The Rail Enthusiast
Mon 12 March
Meet Geoff at Didcot Parkway today for a rare glimpse of a 125, due through at 10.17. In the end it is four and a half minutes late, resulting in a surfeit of passengers on the platform, just alighted from the 10.20 to Oxford. I run over to the far end to get a good shot, with Geoff huffing behind. It looks promising, with no vagrant commuters in the viewfinder ─ but then, at the crucial moment, Geoff’s mac flaps out towards the lens, obscuring everything but an empty crisp bag on the station concourse. I’ve told him to keep it zipped up in the wind.
Tue 13 March
Nigel and Eric are doing the Trans-Siberian Rail Route in June. The 7,650 mile journey takes 13 days, and is equivalent to crossing the United States from east to west three times over. They’ve asked me to join them, but I’m not keen. There’s only five days in Europe proper, and then you’re into Russia and China. I’ve heard the Chinese don’t even eat cheese. What I really fancy is a little break in Bradford-on-Avon; Rodney and his wife had a lovely stay there, hired a cottage by the station. He managed to identify a C37 from the lavatory window.
Wed 14 March
Appointment with the doctor means I miss my morning viewing at Cholsey overground. Dr Soames says my increased weight and lack of a regular movement is down to all the ham sandwiches. He’s advised brown rice and prune juice, which are hardly practical in a lunchbox.
Thu 15 March
Attend a talk on diesel multiple units with Nigel. The speaker is quite well-informed, but we have to correct him on a few points, not least his assertion that the Super Voyager runs on a hydraulic engine (the Super V. is in fact a Class 221, and is therefore electrically powered). We buy lunch at the Didcot cafeteria. Remembering what Dr Soames said, I forgo the sandwich menu and opt for a sausage roll.
Paul drops by in the afternoon, unexpectedly. He wants to know if I have made any enquiries into church halls for Mother’s 90th. I haven’t. Paul looks exasperated and says he only gave me the job of ascertaining venue prices because I seem to like facts and figures so much. Would I prefer to order the finger buffet? I agree to get onto St Wilfred’s and All Saints. I also mention the not unpleasant function room at the Thrush and Snail in Bromsgrove, near Birmingham (which happens to be at the top of the Lickey Incline). Paul says nothing for a while and then asks, “Why would a 90-year-old woman want to travel 70 miles to her birthday tea?” I point out that technically, Mother will still be in her 80s on the Saturday, as her actual birthday is not till the following Tuesday. Paul mutters something and leaves.
Fri 16 March
I notice the ticket office at Cholsey is looking a bit shabby, and inform the station manager. He tells me there’s little they can do since the cuts at Network Rail, but I’m always welcome to bring in a brush and some Ronseal myself.
Sat 17 March
Have an away-day in Swindon, where some teenage louts career past me on the platform, knocking my Minolta FZ10 out of my hands. Thankfully it’s not broken, but I photograph the offending party from behind just in case it’s needed as evidence later.
Travelling home, I think about Bradford-on-Avon. I don’t expect you find such thuggish behaviour there. The station is 150 years old, with many of the original Victorian features still intact. Trouble is, Eric and Nigel are off to Siberia, and Rodney’s already been. And Geoff won’t venture past the Berkshire Downs. £300 to hire the cottage for one seems rather dear. But then there aren’t many places you can see a Hastings-gauge unit from your bedroom.
Sun 18 March
Discover an interesting website on the Marlow/Maidenhead branch line. Apparently it was threatened with closure in 2009! Am just about to click on the link for railway preservation charities, when the phone rings.
It’s Paul: he wants to apologise for being short with me the other day. Oh, I say, I hadn’t really noticed. There is a pause, then he asks me, “Brian, don’t take this the wrong way, but, well, do you think you might be a little ─ autistic?” It seems a funny question, but I tell him I don’t think so; I never did like painting much. “There are people who can help you,” he adds, mysteriously. I can’t really see where the conversation is going, so I inform him of the Thrush and Snail’s hire costs, which I’ve just found detailed on their online booking form. “Thanks Brian, but Jan and I have got everything sorted ─ you just come along and enjoy yourself.” So Mother won’t be arriving via the UK’s steepest sustained mainline railway incline then? “I’m afraid not Bri, the stair-lift at Radley General nearly killed her.”
Retire to bed somewhat disappointed at Paul’s choice of Cholsey Village Hall for the birthday venue. But on the bright side, with the celebrations so local, I can leave early and still catch the last two hours of Didcot Steam Day. I might even take some of the finger buffet with me.
Colette Bernhardt is a British freelance journalist based in Brighton, England. She writes regularly for publications including The Guardian, Times, Independent and Ecologist, covering everything from sleep disorders to snail racing. This is the first fictional work she has had published since the epic Matt, The Cat Who Liked Rats appeared in her school magazine in 1986.
