Wednesday 23rd December 2015

Tuesday

The first day of the Christmas holiday, and I realise my head is full of stuff about work. This isn't suppose to happen, surely I could just put my brain on hold? No, so it takes some time for me to get used to the idea of not working. It must never happen again!

As I have a full day of train chasing, I need the car which means dropping Jools off at work first ting. So, after coffee, he gets ready, so we can drive to Hythe, then me return. It is a damp morning, with drizle falling, which does not bode well for photography, but hey, we can only try. Or I can only try. On the way back I try to dodge the heavy port and tunnel traffic, which probably means coming up the Alkham Valley takes longer than staying on the A20.

I have breakfast, charge the batteries on my cameras: now, I had mentioned a few weeks back to a friend that there was this tour coming through on the 22nd, but I forgot that, so it came as a bit of a surprise in Monday evening to get a mail asking what time he should arrive in Dover. However, the more the merrier, so he says he will be in town at quarter to ten, after which a day of train chasing.

I am outside Dover Priory on time, and Will is waiting. So we decide to drive to the other side of Ashford to try to photograph the new Eurostar e320, which I have seen a couple of times when traveling between Kent and London; a few are now in service. So, there are these two blokes with cameras standing on an overbridge with cameras with hoofing great lenses in a steady drizzle, waiting for some trains on HS1 below. We stood for an hour, and three Eurostars passed; all the old 373s, but one in new livery. We snap them all, as well as Javelins that pass by too, and a freight train on the Maidstone line.

We decide to quit whilst we were still fairly dry, and drive over to Chartham for the first pass of the steam tour; this is because of the fine old signal box and manual level crossing, it is a favourite sight for me to snap tours, as you may have noticed.

It takes about 40 minutes to drive over to Chartham, and I realise we are running out of time, but we arrive with 20 minutes to spare. With a light drizzle falling, we walk to the station, and get chatting to another photographer there. For a change, we learn from the gate keeper it is on time, so at quarter past 12, we know that it is show time, and soon enough we can hear the locomotive working hard as it acceleraes from a red signal half a mile away. Clouds of steam and smoke appear over the trees away to the left, and soon we can see the Black 5 puffing towards us.

Soon it is past the signal box, over the crossing and level with us. Leaving us in clouds of smoke, it passes through the station, training behind a dozen Pullman coaches, with those inside tucking into a five course festive dinner. As you do.

We now have just under two hours to get to Sandling where we will see it pass again, which means crossing Kent again, passing by all the wonderful orchid sites, which I do know now like the back of my hand. Will, on the other hand, has no idea where we are. Once back on Stone Street, its a simple twenty minute drive to the junction with the motorway. Over the roundabout, a left turn, down a country lane and there is Sandling. We have an hour, not quite long enough to find somewhere for lunch, but long enough for a pint and a pack of crisps. Saltwood is just a few minutes away, and I know there was a fine looking place, The Castle Hotel, so parking outside Will treats me to a pint and a pack of salt and vinegar crisps.

We make them vanish, and are able to return to the station with 20 minutes to spare, park up and take our favoured positions ready for the train to pass by. I go to the end of the country bound platform, so I can see it emerge from the tunnel about a quarter of a mile away. At least the rain had stopped, and I suppose there were about a dozen others here to see the train.

Through the tunnel I could see the clouds of smoke and steam of the approaching train. Then the headlight. It entered the tunnel, and all we could see was the single light, getting closer.

The train emerged from the tunnel, and above clouds of smoke billowed out, rising high into the gloomy skies. Closer it got, as it was already going at a fair rate of knots. We could hear the engine now, working hard as it neared the station, and then was level with me and then gone. A thing of beauty, I take a few final shots, then all was done.

We walk back to the car, and with the light fading, all there is to do is to drop Will off at Dover so he can catch a train back home in Herne Bay. I drive home via the cliff road, along Reach Road, over Jubilee Way, which is chocked with traffic waiting to get into the port.

Jools was home, and had bought rolls and chicken fillets; she had eaten, so I warm the chicken up in a pan, butter the rolls and make a brew. And once I have reviewed my shots, we settle down for some Hobbit action in Lord of the Rings, and with the two halves of the first film, and supper of cheese and crackers, we are all done by half nine, and oh look, bed time. Phew.

But brace yourselves, for tomorrow we must brave the battle that is Tesco at Christmas. Whish us well.