I was in Didcot yesterday. I'm pleased to see they're upgrading the front of the station to one of those ubiquitous and grim paved spaces that seem especially keen to associate themselves with train station frontages. Every town and city needs one. Rumours has it that they ship the slabs from Limbo, which explains the soul-sapping desolation of such spaces. It's not complete, of course. Half the vegetation in the planters needs to die, and the other half needs to look like it's planning to do so quite soon. There's no harvest of crisp papers and chocolate bar wrappers in the beds. Nor does it yet have the piss-stains, the mystery human-or-animal turd, the discarded cans of Special Brew, or the two bored teens with skateboards. Give it time.