Intrepid reportage, indeed. There were only two stories in the news - the horrific train crash in Selby, and the woeful tales of foot-and-mouth disease sweeping the country. Yet here I was, on a train, going to visit the countryside.
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I was going to my home village, deep in the heart of Archers territory - an unremarkable Midlands dormer village, with about 2000 inhabitants and a lot of new houses. The village is surrounded by farms, but it is not exactly a farming community - in fact, I am not sure it is a community at all. You don't go there for quaint local customs, or to find another Ambridge. Like many, many of Britain's villages, the only reason you would ever go there is because you live there, and work nearby.
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My home village is a nice, safe place. Growing up there as a teenager, of course, it was always rather too nice and way too safe - only in later London-based years did it become something of a haven. But on Thursday 1 March, this nice, safe, unremarkable village took on a glimmer of ominosity.
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Much of that had to do with getting there. You know, when boarding the train at London Euston, that the chances of another Selby disaster happening are one in a zillion, and that the chances of experiencing another Hatfield, Paddington or Clapham are pretty damn slim. But the palpable failure of nerve on the part of those running the trains guarantees that you will feel like you are hurtling (or, in my case, crawling) towards your imminent doom.
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Virgin Trains pioneered the phrase 'Stay out of the countryside!' way before the Ministry of Agriculture thought it up. Who needs an exclusion zone to prevent the spread of foot-and-mouth when you have the UK railways? As the train reached its departure time, we were breezily informed by the train manager that we were just waiting for a locomotive, and as soon as we had 'the loco', we would be on our way.
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We left an hour late and came to a half-hour stop somewhere south of Rugby. The train manager told us she was investigating the delay. The next we heard from her was after 10 minutes on the move, when she sang, 'As you can see, we are back on the move!'. Good to know that some people are on the ball.
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The local papers told me that foot-and-mouth disease had finally reached a couple of places in the Midlands. Expecting page after page of local hysteria, I turned to page two of the Staffordshire Newsletter - to read that 'Borough wage bill "is out of control"'. There was a special report about foot-and-mouth on page seven, and something on the front page - between stories about a Stafford householder fined by magistrates for playing loud music, and the Stafford saddle-maker who had scooped top awards at the National Master Saddle-Makers' honours in London.
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The Shrewsbury Chronicle, meanwhile, had as its front-page lead, 'Trio are pub fire heroes'. Journalists in their London offices might be filling the national papers with the problems of the countryside, but the countryside seems pretty keen to keep talking about other things.
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Of course people in the countryside are worried about foot-and-mouth disease - even the non-farming commuters. The reaction to the disease, with its exclusion zones and movement restrictions, is already having a significant impact. From hauliers to butchers to local colleges, for whom links with agriculture provide them with courses, students and business support, the ricochet effect of these outbreaks will be considerable.
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But most people in the countryside are not living and working on infected farms. And it seems that, when you're living in the middle of a national crisis, the concerns are that much more practical.
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'What everybody's talking about is, where do we walk our dogs?' said a family friend, from a village up the road. They had just been served this missive by the local police, delivered through their Neighbourhood Watch leader:
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'FOOT-AND-MOUTH DISEASE - Police Message
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'As and from midday Thursday 1 March, 2001, it is an offence to proceed along any countryside pathway or bridle path under the above Order. A maximum fine of £5000 can be imposed.'
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All right, we all know that we are supposed to lay off the rambling for a while. But as my friend pointed out, the area surrounding her house could be called a countryside pathway. What is the 'above Order'? What does 'any countryside pathway' mean? Is the £5000 fine just an arbitrary sum - or did somebody decide to add extra pathos by setting the figure at what we keep being told is farmers' average income? It gets the point across. But where do you walk the dog?
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On Midlands Today news, the reporter reeled off a string of no-go areas, concluding that these amounted to 'anywhere in the countryside, really'. (He also announced that the postponement of the Crufts dog show would bring huge disappointment to thousands of dogs...and their owners.)
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The landlord of a nearby pub had just come back from the Canary Islands with his wife, and was joking with everybody around the bar about the joys of holidays. I wanted to ask about the impact of foot-and-mouth, but I just didn't have the heart.
Read on:
Read more on the Foot-and-mouth issue
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