IT seems a tad ironic that after taking years to convince Whitehall that the A66 was a vital transport artery which was inadequate, slow and downright dangerous, the region faces opposition from another part of London to plans to upgrade the road.

From its offices in the city (no doubt handy for the Tube and bus services) comes Transport 2000 ridiculous argument that there are other ways to improve the road's safety record which do not involve making it a dual carriageway along its entire length.

Junction improvements and "speed management" have already been tried in a number of places along the trans-Pennines route and none have made an appreciable difference. The mix of single and dual carriageway is obviously lethal.

The problem for city-based pressure groups like Transport 2000 is that it doesn't understand that isolated rural areas like the North Pennines need decent transport links as much as a protected environment. That doesn't just mean improved roads. We also want better rail and bus services, we want to see freight shifted from road to rail, we want to ensure the flora and fauna of our countryside is respected. But more than anything else right now, the region wants a half-way decent road between the North-East and the North-West.

It doesn't seem much to ask.

Steamed up

While on the subject of transport it is good to see jam roly poly pudding making a return to the menus of GNER trains connecting the North-East with London.

It is part of a GNER initiative to re-introduce traditional, wholesome British food to its restaurant car once more. Spectator looks forward to slopping the custard down his suit.

Euro dream

Steamed puddings may be a step forward for British railway companies but the extent to which we have fallen behind our Continental cousins was brought home last weekend during a day trip to Paris on Eurostar.

The French SNCF-operated train was spotless, on-time and lightning fast - at least on the French side of the Channel Tunnel. Its staff were universally polite, charming and attentive and the food was excellent.

On the plus (British) side the terminal in Ashford was also spotless and welcoming.

By the way, what happened to the idea of trains running direct from Darlington to Paris?

Spectator can recall back in the 1980s the tantalising idea of boarding at Bank Top and five hours later getting off at the Gare du Nord, without the need to change in the London. Spectator trusts a rail expert will put him right.

A new dawn

SLOWLY, oh so slowly, rural life is hauling itself back to something like normality, but there are indications that some effects of foot-and-mouth are only now coming to the surface.

This year, owing to Defra restrictions, Hexham mart had to be the venue for three sales which, hitherto, have been separate events.

Bellingham, Scots Gap and Rothbury would each have marked the start of the autumn lamb sales with their own opening sales - and just as shows are more than competitions, these sales were a meeting place and a day out for the farming community. Although the average price was an encouraging £30.13 up on the 2000 sales, it won't have been the same.

At Hexham there were not enough of that Northern standby, Mule ewe lambs, for the buyers, which bodes well for prices.

The North of England Mule Sheep Association reports that there are 200,000 gimmer lambs forward in total for the autumn sales, from one of the best lamb crops ever.

Southern and Midlands buyers are on the move again for Mule lambs. Maybe things are beginning to look up at last.

Ignorance is...

Darlington market cross was refurbished and repositioned just in time for modern demonstrations of public grief and, five years ago this weekend, began to carry the drift of flowers left in memory of Diana, Princess of Wales.

At the moment, it carries a smaller but no less well-meant array of flowers for Holly and Jessica, the two Soham girls we all hoped so desperately would be found alive and well.

Passing the cross this week, one of Spectator's colleagues heard a trio of girls, probably about 14 though it's hard to tell nowadays, puzzling about who had died. Which pile of sand had their heads been in for the past four weeks