A sequence of connected events

[hirez]

Tea in the side-corridor coach reminded me of going to Barmouth. There and back to see how far it was via Polish steam. A guided potter round backstage and a visit to the Nuclear Flask Escort Vehicle (BR on the outside, MOD on the inside). Nearly flattened by flying lump of garden fence.

Pleasingly random.

Comments

[jendama.livejournal.com]

I really had no clue what to make of this post. Per usual, I didn't "get" it. However, after reading your wife's later post, this all makes sense.

Will we be treated to pictures of said dead fence?

[hirez.livejournal.com]

I'm not sure. Everyone else was a bit shellshocked, and I wasn't aware that I'd been in danger.

I guess the longer version might look like:

The last time I remember being in a BR varnish-and-damp side-corridor coach, it would have been the mid-seventies and the things were failing to fit in with the seventies-modern 'age of the train' advertising even then. It was the school holidays and we'd gone on a day-trip to Barmouth (North Wales coastal holiday destination. Features a remarkable railway bridge across the mouth of the river). The journey there seemed to take most of the day; it felt like we had about an hour to look at people scoffing fish and chips before being dragged back to the station for the journey home.

It would be easy to get nostalgic about rail travel, but it mostly smelled of fried onions, paperless bogs and the vomit of small children. Actually, that about covers all of the seventies.

On the other hand, I rather like the idea of those old carriages. Now if the bloody things weren't entirely insanitary...