U3A Writing: Train Of Thought
"She was only a railwayman's daughter, but she knew all about signals.'' Marjorie Upson recalls rail journeys - and a moment of high embarrassment.
Whilst thinking about trains recently, I remembered some of the journeys made in my youth. In addition to the almost weekly visit to Grandma at Thornhill, the train was often used.
Sunday school outings during the war were sometimes to Sunny Vale, or Sunny Bunces as it was locally called at Hipperholme. This very often meant going by train from Elland. I think we must have changed at Halifax and then on to Hipperholme, and a long walk down to Sunny Vale for the afternoon where all sorts of delights awaited us.
We could use our strip of ten 1d tickets to go on the swing boats or helter-skelter, or even get lost in the maze, which was quite difficult as most of it was falling down anyway. It was there I first saw Roy Castle as he performed Down on Jollity Farm and did a clog dance with the rest of Mildred Crossley’s dance troupe.
Later in my teens Easter Monday was the day when almost everyone went rambling. This particular year the ramble was to Hardcastle Crags, and the plan was to leave Elland Station and travel to Hebden Bridge. Sadly this failed to materialise, as we were informed the particular train wasn’t going to stop at Hebeden Bridge but carry on to Todmorden.
Most of us got the message and didn’t get on, all except one gentlemen who did and was hanging out of the window as the train chugged away, asking us why we were all on the platform. We caught a train to Halifax and then a bus to Hebden Bridge and walked into Hardcastle Crags wondering what had happened to Frank. Undaunted, he arrived later in the afternoon, having walked into the Crags from the other end.
The journey back was also by train, a very crowded one, which meant we teenagers were crammed into the guard’s van, which was quite nice really. I remember airing my scanty knowledge about why the signal was up and not across or vice versa. Brian, quite the best-looking lad in the group said, “She was only a railwayman’s daughter, but she knew all about signals,” at which I turned a bright scarlet and was most embarrassed, being a shy girl. How times have changed!
Among my more recent memorable train journeys, to name but a few were: the Flam Railway in Norway with all its tunnels and bridges; through magnificent scenery travelling in Switzerland where the timing is very precise; the Eurostar; tilting trains into Italy; and more recently the Pukerangi Gorge Yellow Train in New Zealand, which made one marvel at the skill and bravery of the engineers and first settlers. The modern and quick M.R.T. (Most Rapid Transport) in Singapore, which was very crowded, was not my favourite experience.
In June we are having a trip to Pickering and hopefully a trip on the North Yorkshire Railway, now a preserved treat, but very similar to the ones I remember so well from Elland to Thornhill.
