I'm not old enough to have ridden in the London tram, which closed the year before I was born. I've ridden on Boston's Green Line, which turns into a trolley, and San Francisco's cable car, and helped turned one around. And, as a New Yorker, I'm happiest traveling around in the subway, dirty, filthy, and rat-infested. We grow attached to what we are used to. We hate having to learn a new routine when the old one was if not particularly easy, rote.
So I understand this sadly sentimental short about the closing of London's last tram line, with its violin music contrasting with a music hall song about the trams. Beautifully edited, and the stiff-upper-lip narration made me tear up.