However, other things other than football have happened in the world. For us, it has been a hectic week, and to be honest we are just about pooped.
Three days of work, battling with my boss about the aims of the job; is it about money or about quality, or both. In the end, we know the answer, it's money; actually improving the process to make the quality of work seems to be beyond their comprehension. At least it was for three days, as we had bigger fish to fry.
Wednesday afternoon, England were due to play their final group game against Slovakia, and after that Jools and i were to head to London for the evening as we were booked on a trip the next day. England did play better, and did enough to win, just; I left work at half time, with England winning 1-0, which is how it stayed. The roads were so quiet, it was a real pleasure to drive home.
I grabbed a shower and we headed down to the station to catch the quarter to six train to London and once again soon we were whizzing through the Kentish countryside up to London. Out of St Pancras, over Euston Road down to the hotel we had booked, the Wardonia. We had seen it before on a walk round the area, and thought it looked nice, and very handy for the three stations on Euston Road. What I had failed to do was check their website or tripadvisor.com; I should have, as the rooms were tiny and mean; nowhere to hang clothes, just enough room to walk round the bed on two sides, and no air conditioning, and as the room faced the sun most of the day; the room was roasting.
After dumping our bags, we went out to find a place to eat; after the England game, everywhere was still packed, with the staff stressed. But we found an Irish bar with seats upstairs, we got some good simple food and a couple of cold beers, whilst the Germany game boomed out from the widescreen TV.
After eating, we escaped the noise of the TV and headed back to our room, and after the match finished, we hung out of the window watching people pass by down below, many the worse for wear.
Thursday morning dawned bright and warm; we know that as our room was heating up and I have the shot of St Pancras, and the clock is showing 17 minutes past. we grabbed showers and dressed, and then went out to find somewhere for breakfast. we have coffee and paninis in Cafe Nero, and then walk down to Euston Station to catch our train north.
Once in the station, Jools went to get food for the journey, whilst I found our seats and take pictures. we were going by electric and steam train to the far north of England, and it was from here where our journey was to begin.
On the 24th March 1990, some mad people decided to try to build a brand new steam locomotive. It took 20 years, but they did it, and two years ago, Tornado took steam for the first time, and now it roars up and down the country, hauling trains of old and young, eyes wide with awe.
We took our seats in an old BR first class coach, with seats as wide and comfortable as armchairs, it was wonderful. Right on time we eased out of the station and headed north. we stopped at a few places, picking more passengers before we arrived at Crewe, where we were due to lose the electric locomotive and from there be hauled by Tornado.
It took some time to change locos, but it was done, with a huge crowd watching, then, with three blasts on the whistle, it was time to get back on and be taken in style up north.
There really is nothing quite like being behind a steam locomotive racing at full speed; as we went along, there were crowds of people just to look at Tornado, and everyone went away with a huge smile on their face. We headed up the main line, towards the Lake District, where Tornado's challenge lay. Over Britain's rail network, there are hills, inclines of varying steepness; Shap is one of the steepest, and is on a main line. All along the four mile bank, there were thousands of people there just to watch and listen as the engine roared and puffed up Shap; the sun came out and the landscape was alive with light. It must have been quite a sight; it was wonderful just to see the countryside pass by to the soundtrack of a hard-working steam locomotive.
we arrived at Carlisle ahead of time, and so Jools and I got away from the crowds at the station, and made our way to the cathedral, which we knew was graced with a fine roof and wonderful decoration. Indeed this was the case, I took many pictures, but we thought we should maybe have a meal. we had passed a nice looking Italian place a few hundred yards towards the station. We got in just as they were closing the kitchen, but in time to order. we both had pasta with chilli-tomato sauce, it was a good meal, just the right amount. and so we headed back to the station, ready for our journey back south.
Little did we know that plans had gone awry; the local water board had turned off the mains, and so the staff could not top up the tender properly, and when we did pull out of Carlisle, an hour late, we did not have enough water to get us back to Crewe. However, plans were in place, and water tankers met us twice on the next stretch or line to top up the tanks, but this delayed us further.
But, for now, we enjoyed the splendour of the majesty that is the Settle to Carlisle line, heading as it does through the heart of the Pennines. And as we climbed into the hills, we were served fresh cram scones and lots of tea and coffee, all at our window seat. wonderful.
More people came out to watch the train pass, over spectacular viaducts and through tunnels and cuttings. It was rather wonderful, i have to say.
As we were now so late, and the next stretch of line being single track, we got caught at every passing place by trains coming the other way, further delaying us. we creeped into Clitheroe, where people refusing to get off the level crossing meant we were stopped for another ten minutes. We crawled into and through Blackburn, and onto the main line, and then the driver opened her up and we flew down to Crewe, but now some hour and a half late.
A friend of mine, Ang, came down to see us at Crewe as the changed the locos again, and after an hour's wait we pulled out as it got dark and headed back down to London. We crawled into Milton Keynes via the good yard for some reason, and limped through Watford and Wembley, before finally arriving nearly two hours late at a quarter to one; many passengers and staff having missed the last train home, were left with nothing else than a night sleeping on a station bench. we headed back to the hotel, and fitful, hot sleep.
No comments:
Post a Comment