Shortly after I was born, my family moved into a bungalow in a street which backed on to the Great Central Railway line. From as early as I can remember, I used to wake up to the sound of steam trains, and go to sleep hearing them running up or down the line. My mother used to time my dad's arrival home from work by them, having his food ready to eat when he arrived home.
"That's the four o'clock down train, time to get the food on", I recall her saying, dad arriving home half an hour later, and the food ready to dish up. Trains seldom seemed to be late, then, and neither was his dinner or tea.
A few years later, we moved from there, and it seemed strange to not hear trains running when I was at home. I was school age then, and from the school playground I could see and hear steam trains, and I was happy with that. During the school holidays, I used to stay with my gran, who lived very close to the main station, and there I could again wake up and go to sleep hearing steam trains arriving, leaving, or on shunting duties. It is a sound of my childhood and brings back many happy memories.
Time moves on, steam is no more, the line has closed now and has turned into a nature trail. The other station remains, but there, electric and diesel engines have taken over. The shunting has stopped as the station is no longer a freight handling junction, even the clackety-clack of wheels on rails has changed, the station has had a re-vamp and no longer seems as exciting as it once did. The closest I can get now to those days, is to visit a preserved line, not necessarily to ride a train, just to be on the platform to watch them arrive and depart, and to admire and smell them. There is an unmistakeable smell about a steam loco - a mix of coal, smoke, oil and grease, which cannot be reproduced. The warmth of an engine, and the dampness of steam, coupled with the smell of it all is heaven to me.
Unfortunately, I don't live close enough to a steam line to enjoy it every day and I envy those who do.
I remember a holiday taken in Paignton during my teenage years. This was my first holiday taken without my parents and I had chosen the hotel because it was cheaper than most. Imagine my surprise the first morning when I was awoken by an unforgettable sound of the shrill whistle of a steam loco. A rush to the window confirmed I was not dreaming. Just outside the window was a steam loco approaching Paignton station which was just a little further down the road! I had not noticed it was there the previous evening as I was anxious to book in and get a meal after travelling for hours. First call after breakfast was the station to wallow in nostalgia for a while. The staff got accustomed to seeing me for the entire week I was there.
During my life, I have visited many preserved lines, both in Wales and England, and all have something different to offer, as well as the ordinary day to day running of stations and locos as they used to be before steam was made redundant by diesel and electric hauling. My children had ridden on steam hauled trains more often than diesel and electric by the time they reached their teens. I visited the York Railway Museum and managed to fulfil a wish to stand on a footplate of a steam engine which was on display.
A few months later, I realised that just standing on the footplate of a "dead" or "cold" engine wasn't enough. I wanted to stand on the footplate of a "live" one, an engine in steam, to feel the warmth of the fire, and to experience the feeling of being directly behind the machinery, fire and water which made the whole thing go - a mysterious form of alchemy to some. On enquiry, I was told that as I was a mere woman, I would never be able to do that. The footplate was only for men, and women were not allowed. I have been content to just "hang around" steam hauled trains for years and to take a sneaky look in the cab whenever I could - just like a cheeky schoolchild.
Recently, we took the youngest lad on a day trip out to the Battle Line at Shackerstone to allow him to experience steam for the first time, and to rekindle some memories for me. His interest was not as great as ours, but his verdict at the end of the day was - "It's better than playing the Playstation at home", so I guess that was a favourable comment from his generation. (See previous edition of Steam Corner for the whole write-up.) It was whilst we were there, that he had an opportunity of climbing the ladder to the footplate, although not on board as such, and was given a brief explanation of the controls by the driver - who was a woman! I was green with envy!
If she had managed to train to be a driver, then why couldn't I have a chance too? A trawl through the Internet gave us a few addresses of lines which could offer Footplate Training Courses, and telephone calls were made. Eventually literature arrived to explain the conditions and details of the courses and pricing. Long discussions of where and which and when have lead to booking a Footplate Experience Course at Severn Valley Railway, booked and paid for, for the end of the week. Time off work, suitable clothing and transport have been arranged, and I am off to fulfil a life-long dream. Except this is a little more than my dream, I'll be controlling around 120 tons of loco and pulling a coach with passengers, not just standing on the footplate! I'll let you know how I fared when I come back down to earth.
