THIS MAY EXPLAIN WHY I PASTE POSTS — ALL ABOUT WILDLIFE AND MY ROOTS

Great Western Trains still run and at 18.04 we are on the Cathedrals Express from Reading General Main Line Station heading west and now, heading in the right direction. Our destination is Hereford where I will be renewing my memories from over many decades. Two years ago I spent about ten days in and around the city — my home city — and it impressed me. So much so, I decided to spend my birthday weekend with friends and family there. My acquaintance with GWR was in the days of the power of steam. An affliction that I still have. I am not alone, of course. I can easily remember working at Ledbury Station as a junior porter to witness close at hand the demise of British Rail. The few staff were heading for tending their gardens and annoying their wives. One employee, much older than his years, was suffering by having worked on the banker that pushed good trains up through Ledbury Tunnel into Colwall where another crew on another loco pushed them through and past the Malverns. I was allowed to stand on the footplate and experience the smoke, feel the power, and taste the coal dust. No wonder people got sick. This last paragraph brings out clues into my past and this is why the route into Hereford was chosen. Flight into Gatwick and then by train. It was going well to start with until there was an obstruction on the line. We waited, we pondered and when it look like an ultimatum we took the employee’s advice for a circuitous route to Reading General. We were booked via Newport and other points very Welsh but with the line being blocked we went for this GWR Cathedrals Express via Oxford and other places direct to Hereford. The announcements were reminders of many past journeys — Moretón-in-Marsh, more than one Worcester, more than one Malvern, Colwall and Ledbury where I hung out of the window gleaning in the memories. The next three stations, that were of my past, are only ghostly to me now. They don’t exist in the era they were created in. Maybe adapted to todays’ need and a bit of a new life. The power of steam and the trains into London Paddington directed, even pulled me, to a life beyond and so different from where my roots and memories still lie. I have moved on. There is some irony in sitting on this train. On-board service brought a can of San Miguel, brewed in Madrid and of Tribute Pale Ale brewed in St Austell neither of which would be my choice. A bag of crisps each is a fine way to dine out. Tomorrow is another day. The names of stations announced are like memory trips and that is a favourite place to go — its all there in the memory bank. Finally, having heard and read about rail strikes, inadequate services, late arrivals and so on. This has been an experience. We chatted to delayed passengers and had wonderful conversations. All staff whether at stations, on platforms when we needed help, to a man or woman they were bloody good. So helpful and friendly and gave us what we need to know. Great interactions that reassured me of people’s kindness.”