The fiasco of British Rail having been sold off piecemeal to other European countries' railway services (we still subsidise travel in the EU despite having left it) meant that my mum and I had incompatible tickets to Bedford this morning. Yes, same starting station, same destination, different train company. It's tempting to imagine that the UK can't get any madder but there seems to be plenty of evidence (e.g. the Tory leadership race) that there's still quite a lot more scope for that.

Tivoli's ticket meant she had a choice so travelled with our mum. Our trains leapfrogged each other along parallel tracks and as theirs pulled out of Luton Airport International I even saw them. My train was crammed full of gregarious football fans on their way to Nottingham but they were almost the only people in their carriage.

I'd never been to Bedford before and loved the grassy banks of the Great Ouse, wide enough for strolling, cycling, picnicking, listening to music at the bandstand, playing games, dog-walking and much else. Pleasant, varied-use communal space is a huge plus for any town and Bedford adds plenty of attractive bridges for pedestrians and cyclists. It feels like a place where we count. I think Tivoli's picked a good home.

She and I went out for a drink in the evening and met some, um, interesting people. No thanks, Craig. Actually, forget the thanks.