Passengers in various states of thought and repose, as the train pulled into Rochdale on the way into work. Or, I suspect for the guy immediately opposite me, home after a rather heavy night.
For the duration of this visit, and certainly today, its final morning, Dundee has basked in balmy sunshine that is atypical for the city. It contributed to a pleasantly chilled out wait for the train heading back south, which I think this couple epitomise. (My journey was fine all the way to Bradford, after which it descended into a farce of the kind only Northern Rail seem able to manufacture, but that’s another story, hours in the future.)
My son might have chosen to live out his university years in a place (Dundee) that is about as far as he could have got from us in West Yorkshire, while staying in the UK. But, there are compensations. Over in the distance, Arthur’s Seat and Edinburgh. Closer to the camera, the Firth of Forth, all taken just before passing through Burntisland station.
On the move again. A scene on the train to London, where I will be for the whole week to come. The field of poppies outside — somewhere near Doncaster — was so extensive that I had time to see it, get the camera out, set up the shot and still capture it OK, despite moving at around 75 miles per hour at least. I believe black won the game in the end.
In comes the 16:22 to Leeds, about as on time as it gets. It didn’t get me home at the scheduled time but that’s just natural variation in the Northern Rail time-space continuum.
What goes down South, must come back up North again (at least, unless one wants to be paying hotel bills for an excessive length of time). I don’t know where this train was going, but I was on the 10:30 back to Leeds, and then home.
One of those days where I travelled quite some distance, took quite a few photos of places I had not been before, yet am obilged to admit that the very first one of the day was the best — taken in the familiar surroundings of Hebden Bridge rail station. Ah, the station in the morning — those first steps on a journey that could lead one anywhere. Until, in my case, one gets as far as Preston then has to sit out a 70-minute delay thanks to Virgin Trains not really being bothered. Which pops the romantic bubble somewhat. But at 7.35am all that lay in the future.
We went to Brussels by train, and our return journey terminated in the very marvellous St. Pancras station in London; this has featured twice before on the blog, but both shots were portraits taken down in the subterranean sections and neither featured its impressive architectural features. The pink writing reads “I want my time with you”… I can’t detect any subliminal advertising going on here, and this may just be a feel-good message for the sake of it, in which case, further credit to St. Pancras and its designers.
These two have clearly had a very good weekend. And so have I.
Scenes from the East Coast Main Line… there is plenty to see (like the Forth Bridge which also nearly made it today), but this view of Durham, its cathedral and castle, from the station rivals that of any other railway view in the world. But you have to know when to click the shutter. One of these days I will get out at Durham station and look around, as I don’t think I’ve been to the city since at least 2004.
Being 42 