I could fill this magazine talking about my train experiences but I must choose a few of my best and worst ones.
When I was 6 years old I had to find a guard at Temple Meads station to help us. My aunt’s rather overweight dog had fallen between the train and the platform. He was on a lead but was stuck. Even now I worry when I see people standing too near to the edge of the platform.
Not my only train worry! On route for Switzerland an elderly passenger asked my husband to buy her something from the station shop. Ron, always ready to help, nearly didn’t get back onto the train before it pulled away. I was scared that I would be left alone with our two small children and all our luggage.
Switzerland, however, brings back wonderful memories. Five years in a row we took the mountain railway to the top of the highest mountain. We also took the train in order to watch the hot air balloon race over the snow. Fantastic!
Having moved back to Bristol when Ron sadly died, I used to go to the south of France to visit my family. The plane landed in Nice and to take the coach meant a 6 hour wait. Several times I took a taxi to Nice station and caught the train to Aix en Provence. That is such a gorgeous ride as the track follows the Mediterranean coastline.
Alone and deciding my future, I lived with a friend in Paris for 6 months. Every day we caught the metro to her boutique near the Sacre Coeur. We only disagreed about one thing. As the train left the stop before ours, Victoria was at the door waiting to jump off. I stayed in my seat until the train slowed down! One day a man said to me “I can tell that you are a Parisian and your friend a tourist”. I was so pleased, but I never told her.
Finally, you may ride one day on the Bob Woodward train. I am delighted that Bob and Judy had the joy of seeing a train named in his honour! So well deserved.
Happy March,
Esmé
When I was 6 years old I had to find a guard at Temple Meads station to help us. My aunt’s rather overweight dog had fallen between the train and the platform. He was on a lead but was stuck. Even now I worry when I see people standing too near to the edge of the platform.
Not my only train worry! On route for Switzerland an elderly passenger asked my husband to buy her something from the station shop. Ron, always ready to help, nearly didn’t get back onto the train before it pulled away. I was scared that I would be left alone with our two small children and all our luggage.
Switzerland, however, brings back wonderful memories. Five years in a row we took the mountain railway to the top of the highest mountain. We also took the train in order to watch the hot air balloon race over the snow. Fantastic!
Having moved back to Bristol when Ron sadly died, I used to go to the south of France to visit my family. The plane landed in Nice and to take the coach meant a 6 hour wait. Several times I took a taxi to Nice station and caught the train to Aix en Provence. That is such a gorgeous ride as the track follows the Mediterranean coastline.
Alone and deciding my future, I lived with a friend in Paris for 6 months. Every day we caught the metro to her boutique near the Sacre Coeur. We only disagreed about one thing. As the train left the stop before ours, Victoria was at the door waiting to jump off. I stayed in my seat until the train slowed down! One day a man said to me “I can tell that you are a Parisian and your friend a tourist”. I was so pleased, but I never told her.
Finally, you may ride one day on the Bob Woodward train. I am delighted that Bob and Judy had the joy of seeing a train named in his honour! So well deserved.
Happy March,
Esmé
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