Memory Mixtape #17: Waving At Trains

We had a couple of days away towards the end of last week, and stayed at The Whistlestop Cottage in Pickering, a cosy little getaway with a tiny garden that fronts onto the North Yorkshire Moors Railway line. Sam's stayed there before with his mum, so he knows the rule: whenever a train goes past, you have to run out into the garden and wave... 

We booked this before the bank holidays were switched around, so we were pretty lucky that way. The price would have no doubt gone up... that said, we were surprised by how quiet North Yorkshire was over the Jubilee. We'd expected it to be much busier. 

A great view from the garden... made the Cnut in me long for the days of steam engines, and a gentler pace of life.    

Like the last of the good ol' puffer trains,

I'm the last of the blood and sweat brigade,

And I don't know where I'm going, or why I came.

I'm the last of the good old fashioned steam-powered trains.

I'm the last of the good old renegades.

All my friends are all middle class and grey,

But I live in a museum, so I'm okay.

I'm the last of the good old fashioned steam-powered trains.

Like the last of the good ol' choo-choo trains,

Huff and puff 'till I blow this world away,

And I'm gonna keep on rollin' till my dying day.

The streets I left were always wet and grey

To half imagined west I made my way

To where the kettle always sings

And walking down the lane

Your long hair swings