Dear Sir Richard (or do you prefer Mr Branson?),

Firstly let me congratulate you on an excellent choice of name for your business. Short of calling your company “Big Breasted Nympho”, I do not see how you could have chosen a better name. Kudos to you, Sir.

I wanted to start with a compliment so you do not dismiss this as just another letter of complaint, Which I suppose, in the strictest sense of the word, it is.

The reason for writing to you is that I used your train service last week for the first time in a few years. I am normally a significant contributor to global warming, but the lack of snow this past Christmas led to my plan to use public transport more often in 2007, in the hope of snowmen in 2008 and beyond. This is why I chose to get the train to North Wales from London Euston instead of driving.

In purely commercial terms the £71 charge was not overly unreasonable. It would have cost me £50 in petrol anyway, and I got to do a small amount of laptop work, read the papers and peruse a book I got for my birthday a couple of weeks ago. These are all good things.

The bad things started when I wanted to use the loo. I was pointed in the direction of the nearest toilet by the lady selling sandwiches. This was a disabled toilet, but I was assured by the sandwich lady that anyone could use it. Except it did not open. I have never been more pleased not to be wheelchair-bound. The only thing worse than desperately needing a wee, is being in a wheelchair and desperately needing a wee, I would imagine.

After questioning the sandwich lady again, who was surprised by the out of order status of the loo, I was pointed in the direction of another loo, three carriages in the opposite direction. So off I set. For the second time in two minutes I was thankful for working legs.

After a brief walk and attracting the looks that only a man in a pinstriped suit rushing for the toilet can attract, I reached the next loo. To my great relief it was free, and I locked myself in and completed the required number one (it was only a number one, I have a thing about not being able to do number two’s in public places, unless I am drunk, which I wasn’t). Then, as I was taught as a youngster, I went to wash my hands. You have thoughtfully put in place automatic dispensers for soap, water, and warm air, allowing travellers to complete the hand-washing process without pressing any buttons or twisting any knobs. Again, these are good things.

I am very conscious of the billions of germs that are spread every day through people not washing their hands, so my first step was to apply a generous amount of liquid soap to my hands and then to work it into a lather. Once lathered, I proceeded to the water dispenser in order to rinse and dry.

But nothing.

No matter how much soapy-handed waving I undertook, no water was dispensed. I do not know if you have ever tried to wipe off liquid soap from your hands with nothing but cheap toilet roll (you probably have people that do this for you), but it is not an easy process. I genuinely fear for the person who followed me, needing a number 2 only to find no toilet roll, but also no water with which to wash their hands. I am also aware of people will only give a cursory splash of water over their hands when visiting the loo, so I would imagine there were many people on that train who had not washed their hands at all. Imagine that!

I am writing as I understand sometimes these things cannot be helped. I have worked in the service industry and I recognise that circumstances conspire against us, no matter how good our best laid plans. I would just appreciate some form of warning on things that do not work as described, especially before working myself into a liquid soap hell.

Some chicken based sandwiches wouldn’t go amiss either.

yours sincerely.

Mr. Angry