All aboard...
I was sat here yesterday, on Christmas Day, wondering what I hadn't posted. A topic that had slipped my mind. What was it?
The arrival yesterday of the 10:45 Mallard service from Darton Central didn't remind me, nor did the MIL's tale of Grand Central's maiden voyage from Sunderland to London resulting in a breakdown and no further service (poor sods only have one train). I have no idea why, but there was a train from Plymouth to Edinburgh running yesterday, and is was the sight of that the reminded me. Yes, Junior met Santa the other weekend!
The next train from platform 1So why all the talk of trains? Because Santa was on a train when we met him.
We've been on a trip with the Scottish Rail Preservation Society before, heading up the West Coast to Mallaig. That was a long day, but worth every minute. So when MOTS thrust the leaflet for the Santa Steam Trains special under my nose my first reaction was "get it booked". With a little negotiation on date and time we were joined by the Gents.
All aboard...
The station was brimming with anticipation, like a Victorian scene of people cramming on the last train from Euston to Glasgow. Assuming Virgin Trains ran back then. Mind you, I'd rather take my chances with a Victorian train than one of Branson's, was it last year or two years ago now that he had a train load of passengers stuck on Christmas Eve? Right, that's going to bug me, so I promise to try and find the answer by the end of this post.
As the previous train pulled in, the happy children (clearly not Railway Children, they were miserable, no?) who had just met Santa were ushered into their road based transport by their parents. All happy. Well, of sorts.
Seats found, boy on the table pressed to the window (true to form on a train) and off we went. Clementines for the kids came through, and as we trundled up the line so did the big fella himself.
Mind the gap...
The jaw dropped. The little guy was in awe of the big guy. The eyes were fixed as Santa passed through the carriage, handing out presents to all the little boys and girls. I have to say little boys and girls because big boys like Genters (and I use "big" in the loosest sense) didn't get a present. Hence the sulking later. Pacified by having two warm mince pies. Hmm, pie.....
Oh, yeah, little guy. Santa reached out to him with his present. The little fella reached out with both hands and gently took his gift. And the big man carried on, all the time with a pair of eyes fixed on him.
Jaw-dropping. Fantastic.
All change...
A sing-song on the way back set the festive mood. And highlighted to me (and Mr G) that we have some serious reading to do, becaue "Good King Whatshisass" didn't fall out of a window onto red hot cinders, apparently. It seems a giggle at the time to put the "adult" words into songs, but when they become the only words you remember it doesn't help in a family environment like that in which we found ourselves. So, humming quietly, I decided it was time to learn some basics for teaching Junior.
So, back to the station and all change.
The last BR microwave burger
At the station a welcoming cuppa and mince pie was available for the older kids. Pah, keep your books, junior! None of the old fashioned microwave burgers the Great British institution that was British Rail used to serve, but a nice simple warm fare to end the trip on. Jubbly. Jubblu jubbly for those with two pies. Who ate all the pies.......?
Many thanks to the Gs for the company. Apologies for the flying key that almost took out Mr G's left eye (I will try and get Junior to improve his aim for next year!).
Choo-choo.............
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Right, promise fulfilled. I would have said the breakdown was in 2003. Wrong, it was 2001. And here it is, the story on the BBC.
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