The unending romance of train travel
I love trains. Correction, no, I love travelling on trains. I'm not interested in engines or specifications or what-have-you. It's about the romance, and the opening of the new St Pancras Eurostar terminal has made me realise just how much I love it. There's so much romance around trains and railway stations: think of Brief Encounter, Murder on the Orient Express and The Railway Children, and countless other literary and cinematic moments involving people arriving or departing on trains. Getting on a plane just isn't the same when you know the person you're saying goodbye to is about to spend the next 2 hours sitting still in a departure lounge.
Anyway, I'm hugely excited about St Pancras. The gothic splendour of the Midland Hotel on a sunny day is one of my favourite London sights. Growing up on an island, when for my whole life leaving the country meant getting on a boat or a plane, it was -- and still is -- amazing to get on a train in London and get off it in Paris. So now, that one of my favourite London buildings is part of the whole Eurostar experience makes me more happy than I can say. This description of the new terminal was the first one I read back in October, and you may think me odd, but it almost moved me to tears. This guy gets it. Other wonderful articles on the station can be found here and here; with an amusing and celebratory piece by Simon Jenkins about the opening ceremony, here:
The Royal Philharmonic blared Walton. Giant spotlights hacked through the enveloping darkness. A choir rejoiced, Lemar and Katherine Jenkins sang, mauve, purple and blue danced across the great parabola roof, refashioned as an auditorium. The climax was billowing clouds filling the northern arch from where, for a thrilling moment, we thought a steam engine was about to thunder into view. Instead there emerged three silky, gleaming snakes of steel. Thomas the Tank Engine had been reclad for Star Wars. The cry went up: "Let the great world spin forever, / Down the ringing grooves of change." (Tennyson never mastered the geometry of rail.) Eurostar had arrived.
Doesn't that make you want to go and catch a train right this minute?
It's made me think about all the train journeys I've taken on various continents. Most recently, from Glasgow to Fort William, a spectactular journey through the lochs and hills of the Highlands of Scotland (photos I took from the train are here). Before that I went by train to Barcelona - a picture of the train waiting to take us back to Paris is here. I've taken trains across the USA, through Thailand, Australia and Russia; across the roof of Norway from Bergen to Oslo; all over Europe, and one day I want to do the holy grail of train travel, the journey from Moscow to Beijing. Since I discovered The Man in Seat Sixty-one, a whole new world has opened up to me.
Anyone want to come?
Anyway, I'm hugely excited about St Pancras. The gothic splendour of the Midland Hotel on a sunny day is one of my favourite London sights. Growing up on an island, when for my whole life leaving the country meant getting on a boat or a plane, it was -- and still is -- amazing to get on a train in London and get off it in Paris. So now, that one of my favourite London buildings is part of the whole Eurostar experience makes me more happy than I can say. This description of the new terminal was the first one I read back in October, and you may think me odd, but it almost moved me to tears. This guy gets it. Other wonderful articles on the station can be found here and here; with an amusing and celebratory piece by Simon Jenkins about the opening ceremony, here:
The Royal Philharmonic blared Walton. Giant spotlights hacked through the enveloping darkness. A choir rejoiced, Lemar and Katherine Jenkins sang, mauve, purple and blue danced across the great parabola roof, refashioned as an auditorium. The climax was billowing clouds filling the northern arch from where, for a thrilling moment, we thought a steam engine was about to thunder into view. Instead there emerged three silky, gleaming snakes of steel. Thomas the Tank Engine had been reclad for Star Wars. The cry went up: "Let the great world spin forever, / Down the ringing grooves of change." (Tennyson never mastered the geometry of rail.) Eurostar had arrived.
Doesn't that make you want to go and catch a train right this minute?
It's made me think about all the train journeys I've taken on various continents. Most recently, from Glasgow to Fort William, a spectactular journey through the lochs and hills of the Highlands of Scotland (photos I took from the train are here). Before that I went by train to Barcelona - a picture of the train waiting to take us back to Paris is here. I've taken trains across the USA, through Thailand, Australia and Russia; across the roof of Norway from Bergen to Oslo; all over Europe, and one day I want to do the holy grail of train travel, the journey from Moscow to Beijing. Since I discovered The Man in Seat Sixty-one, a whole new world has opened up to me.
Anyone want to come?