I was nine when steam disappeared but, despite being taken to watch the trains at Clayton Bridge crossing by my mother, I have only the dimmest memories of it. But I love a steam loco, and probably for the same reason millions of others do. They are the nearest thing mechanical to a living being. You can see the bits moving as they pass. They give the appearance of breathing. And from what old engine drivers have told me, they are all different. Locos of the same class can have wildly different temperaments - some more powerful, willing or faster than others - for no obvious mechanical reason.
When I visited the museum was gearing up for a reunion. Gresley A4 Pacific Mallard and her five remaining sisters were to be assembled together later in the summer. Mallard still holds the world speed record for steam, 126mph, set in 1938. Unlike most of the 1930's streamlined trains, where the cowlings were just for show, the A4's streamlining was windtunnel-tested and integral to the loco's construction. They are beautiful things, looking, like the E-type Jag, as though they are moving even when stood still.
There were these three inside and one other peering through the doors, waiting to be reunited with her siblings. I also saw something that did bring back memories:
This was the trainset that trainee signalmen practised on. It lived at Victoria Station when I worked there.
No comments:
Post a Comment