The first thing you notice is the silence. Within 10 minutes of leaving London Victoria's Greenline coach station, the majority of passengers on the 8am service to the north of England have adopted one of two positions: slouching into their seats and staring into space, or sleeping with their heads gently vibrating against the windows. Even by mid-morning, the quiet remains largely unbroken: there are none of the business travellers whose booming mobile-phone conversations so bedevil train journeys, nor anyone attempting any kind of on-the-road high jinks. The loudest noises are the serene hum of the engine and a low-level hiss from the air-conditioning; it's a pleasure to report that in the course of the journey's first three hours, I hear only one novelty ringtone.
Having arrived in London on the train from my home on the English/Welsh borders, I've set out on a two-day quest: travelling by coach to Newcastle, Manchester and Cardiff, via Durham, Sheffield, Leeds and Birmingham, with the aim of making it back to the Welsh market town of Brecon by sundown tomorrow. The aim is to shine light on a part of the transport network that very rarely gets any coverage at all, and answer a few beguiling questions: who are the undocumented millions trundling up and down our motorways and A-roads? Is the coach network, as some people contend, the arterial system of the UK's illicit economy, populated by migrant workers making their way from city to city? Or is it still the preserve of pensioners and students? And what of the apparently barmy price war that has led to hordes of people travelling the length of the country for as little as £1?
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