Are the Tories planning to cut Crossrail 2? And how can they deliver HS2 without it?

Euston station, the scene of the crime. Image: Getty.

At first sight, the transport section of the Conservative manifesto published yesterday looks rather bland compared to the drama elsewhere.

It pledges to continue “putting some £40bn into transport improvements across the United Kingdom over the rest of this decade” and to “continue our programme of strategic national investments, including High Speed 2, Northern Powerhouse Rail and the expansion of Heathrow Airport”.

The first response to this is relief. There are several ideas that have been floating around the Conservative Party and affiliated think-tanks for a while which would be less than great – from dropping the new Heathrow runway to the cancellation of the HS2 high-speed north-south rail link or George Osborne’s Northern Powerhouse project, via the privatisation of infrastructure operator Network Rail, through to the abolition of all rail subsidies and safety regulations.

Transport is a sector that’s all too likely to experience major reorganisations, funding and scope changes halfway through major projects based on political whims. Given the change in government focus after the Brexit vote, more radical changes to transport policy could have been on the cards.

The manifesto pledges greater government involvement in private-sector areas such as energy and banking, so it’s perhaps not surprising to see Network Rail privatisation disappearing from the picture. A sell-off would go against Theresa May’s desire to appeal to former Labour and UKIP voters as a break from the Cameron government’s City of London establishment.

Indeed, the one major project that does appear to have got the axe is a London one. The Crossrail 2 project, providing a new heavy-rail line between north-east and south-west London – which was included in the 2015 Conservative manifesto – isn’t mentioned at all this time round.

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The Department for Transport was scheduled to report on the business case for the program that Transport for London has created by the end of this month, but has now delayed any decision till after the election. So things are looking shaky for the project’s future, despite its strong backing from the Mayor and TfL.

The obvious question is why. Crossrail 2 is one of the highest benefit/cost ratio (BCR) schemes going in the UK, with a BCR of 1:2.7, compared to about 1:1.8 for HS2 and about 1:2 for the Elizabeth Line (Crossrail 1) that’s currently being completed. (The Northern Powerhouse Rail scheme hasn’t even calculated one.)


Partly this is because of the nature of BCRs. Transport investment in London always shows up more productive in BCR terms than transport investment in the rest of the UK, because it’s a bigger, denser city containing more people who earn more money than people anywhere else. It’s also the only place in the country where all transport networks continuously run at or above capacity.

As a result, it’s easy to show how capacity enhancement projects will have benefits, because you can see exactly who will use them and what they’ll use them for. Regeneration and massive change projects require much more of a wing and a prayer outlook – and while “If you build it, they will come” may have worked for Kevin Costner, it’s hard to factor into economic appraisals.

So if the government wants to move away from its predecessor’s focus on London, it pretty much has to neglect high BCR London projects in favour of lower or incalculable BCR projects elsewhere – and accept the economic hit that will ensue if this means further crowding on the capital’s commuter lines.

There’s one problem with this for Crossrail 2, though. The current plans for HS2 – which have gone through parliament and detailed design, and are almost ready to start – rely on the new commuter line. The terminus for HS2 will be at Euston, which is on the north side of central London. It’s an hour’s walk from Euston to Westminster or to London Bridge, and the three tube lines connecting Euston directly with everywhere southwards are already well over capacity.

The biggest economic case for HS2, national showing-off aside, is that commuter routes to the north of London are saturated. Moving high-speed trains to a new line allows more commuter trains to run on existing lines – both by swapping them, and by improving the line’s capacity. (When all trains on a track go at the same speed, there’s room for more trains than there is if fast ones keep catching up with slow ones.) This increases the number of people who can be moved from northern suburbia into London.

But without Crossrail 2, everyone who arrives into Euston will then find it hard to get anywhere else. The commuters who HS2 has made room for will be using up the last vestiges of space on the Victoria Line; and the time benefits of the new line will seem irrelevant when you have to queue for just as long before you can get on the Tube.

Is this an unintended consequence that the Conservatives haven’t thought through? Is it an excuse to cancel HS2 after the election? Is the apparent disappearance of Crossrail 2 actually just a total red herring, or even an attempt to play hardball with TfL over funding splits? We’ll see – but the plans as they appear now just don’t seem to make sense.

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What’s behind the rise of the ornamental restaurant toilet?

Toilets at Sketch restaurant, London. Image: Nik Stanbridge/Flickr.

A few weeks ago, I found myself in the toilets of a zeitgeisty new Italian restaurant in east London called Gloria. As with so many contemporary restaurant toilets, those in question were an aesthetic extension of the establishment’s soul. The inventive menu was matched by two-way mirrored toilet doors.

The setup was this: cubicle occupants could see out while the unisex crowd milling around the taps could check their outfits on the exterior mirrors. All fun and games, I thought. But then I found myself mid toilet with a guy peering into my door to change his contact lens. Either he had spectacularly bad manners or he was unaware of the two-way door thing. (Let’s hope it’s the latter.)

Gloria’s toilets aren’t unique in their attempt to be distinctive. The loos at nearby Mr Fogg’s Maritime Club & Distillery are adorned with specimen boards of dead spiders. Meanwhile, Edinburgh’s The Sun Inn invites patrons to pee in buckets, and trumpets double as urinals in The Bell Inn in East Sussex. Men can wee into the vista if they’re dining in the Shard. And Sketch’s ovum shaped loos are the stuff of urban legend.

Further afield, transparent doors become frosted only after they’re locked at Brussels’ Belga Queen. In Otto’s Bierhalle in Toronto, diners can press a button to activate their own private rave. And the toilets in Robot Restaurant in Tokyo have gold-plated interiors and dancing robots.

What’s behind this trend? Are quirky toilets just a bit of fun – or an unnecessary complication to the simple act of going for a wee and checking you don’t have tomato sauce on your chin?

Yotam Ottolenghi’s London flagship restaurant Nopi crops up often in conversations about restaurant bathrooms. A hall of mirrors glitters enticingly ahead of loo-bound diners. “The bathroom needs to be the nicest part [of] the whole place because that’s where you’re on your own,” says Alex Meitlis, the designer behind the space.

But no one is truly alone in 2019. If surveys are to be believed, nearly 65 per cent of millennials take their phone to the bathroom with them. Mike Gibson, who edits the London food and drink magazine Foodism agrees that the bathroom selfie – searches for which, incidentally, yield over 1.5m results on Instagram – is part of the reason that contemporary lavatory design is so attention seeking.


“Any new venue that's opening will be super aware that there's probably not an inch of their restaurant that won't be photographed or filmed at some point”, he says. But bathrooms like Nopi’s predate this trend. Indeed, Meitlis believes he has created a haven from the smartphone obsession; Nopi’s mirrors are angled in such a way that means you have to seek out your reflection. “You can choose whether to look for yourself in the mirror or not.”

Another driving force is the increasingly competitive restaurant landscape. “It’s almost like there’s some sort of ever-escalating competition going on amongst new openings, which makes every visit a faintly terrifying experience”, says food writer and New Statesman contributor Felicity Cloake. Gibson agrees. “Restaurants want an edge wherever possible, and design definitely comes into that.”

So novelty bathrooms get you noticed, promote social media engagement and entertain diners who are momentarily without the distraction of company. (Although, it must be said, quirky bathrooms tend to make the loo trip a more sociable experience; a Gloria spokesperson described the restaurant’s toilets as somewhere you can “have a good laugh and meet people along the way.”)

Nevertheless, I’m not the only one who finds bathroom surprises disconcerting.  One TripAdvisor user thought the Belga Queen loos were “scary”. And a friend reports that her wonderment at the Nopi bathroom was laced with mirror maze induced nausea – and mild panic when she realised she didn’t know the way out. Should restaurants save the thrills for the food?

“I think it's important not to be too snarky about these things – restaurants are meant to playful,” says Gibson. Cloake agrees that novelty is fine, but adds: “my favourite are places like Zelman Meats in Soho that have somewhere in the dining room where you can easily wash your hands before sitting down and tucking in.”

So perhaps we should leave toilets unadorned and instead ramp up the ornamentation elsewhere. Until then, I’ll be erecting a makeshift curtain in all mirrored toilets I encounter in future. An extreme reaction, you might say. But, as I wish I could have told the rogue contact lens inserter, it’s not nice to pry into someone else’s business.