Trainspotting

In danger of making myself look like a complete nerd, I am going to admit that I love trains. Not in the same way as some of course, I don’t rush out to collect registration numbers nor do I take photos of the 12:21 from Bristol Temple Meads for my vast collection of slightly blurry polaroids of choo choo’s.

I am of course talking about the traveling by locomotion and the romanticism involved with riding in a carriage. 

I was lucky enough to travel through many of the European countries by train when I was 17, an experience I will never forget. But that is a story for another post, in fact I most likely have already written many times about that trip. What I took from that experience is a love of travelling without too much effort and the ability to see the scenery around you and to meet people from different cultures.

Obviously I can’t really do that by traveling around the UK, but I do love hearing the changes in accent as I travel through the different counties of Britain. I also love seeing people saying their ‘hello’s and goodbyes’ at the stations, you can make up your own stories about people seeing each other for the last time or coming back from being at war or traveling the world etc. The vast amount of emotions you can see at train stations are vast.

I have personally met one or two wonderful women for the first time at a train station, some of those meetings end up in relationships others are just fleeting moments to be enjoyed. Each one has been nerve wracking but enjoyable and I can’t think of a nicer place to meet someone rather than at an old Victorian train station. 

It’s a shame that fares are getting so extortionately high and the service so unbearable. I’d personally love to be able to use the trains more often.