Now, drive up the M40 or the A43, and you’ll see the real action. Near the Chiltern Hills, they’ve carved out a 10-mile-long cutting through ancient woodland. It’s like a scar on the landscape, but nature is already creeping back—foxes, badgers, and the odd confused jogger. Yes, the environmental protests were epic, complete with people living in treehouses. But now? The pylons and cranes are the new residents.
Government doesn't know how much HS2 will cost or when it will be
The viaducts here are massive. One near the M25 looks like a concrete rainbow that forgot to curve. It’s so big you can see it from a plane. I drove past it last month, and my passenger said, “Is that HS2 or the remains of a fallen space elevator?” I said, “Both, mate. Both.” That’s the spirit: we’re building something that looks like it belongs in a sci-fi movie, even if it’s moving at the pace of a snail on a treadmill.
Birmingham: the party hub
Birmingham is where the first phase is supposed to open—by 2033, they say. That’s the same year my friend promised to finish his ‘novel’ about a detective cat. But honestly, the Curzon Street station site in Birmingham is actually taking shape. You can see the steel frames rising like a giant metal spider’s web. It’s not a train station yet; it’s a very expensive sculpture for cranes to admire.
The boring machines that dug the tunnels from Birmingham to London are now parked up like retired racehorses. They’ve finished their journey, which is more than I can say for my last train from Crewe to Birmingham New Street. That train broke down twice. So, progress is relative. If HS2 is delayed, it’s still faster than most of my actual morning commutes.
