They have excellent catering and visitor facilities, exhibitions, a museum, steam trains to ride, a book shop and a various old stock and track to view and inspect; past visits have seen exhibitions of 1940's fashions, vintage cars and Penny-farthing bicycles.
Ours is an annual pilgrimage for the dear SO has family connections with both the station and its village and to-still-resident family members, and its church holds the key to past generations.
It was a spur-of-the-moment trip, just because we could, and looking forward to their memorable roast beef lunch with real Horseradish sauce, imagine our surprise then, to discover a special exhibition for Easter, of The Thomas the Tank Engine and his friends of The Island of Sodor, in full sway as we arrived.
Children, with parents and grandparents in tow, filled the Centre with lively enthusiastic voices and their presence, and all to celebrate the writings of the Reverend W. Awdry of Thomas the Tank Engine and his friends of Sodor Island. We even met The Fat Controller, walking about the exhibition, greeting visitors in-between story-telling sessions. It was definitely a day for the young and young-at-heart with Thomas happily chuffing up and down the track, taking excited passengers for rides, and another engine, Swanscombe, being made ready by her young engineer. Swanscombe, built in 1891, was giving out great black plumes of foul-smelling smoke from his funnel. It was the coal being used, explained the engineer, quickly shovelling more coal into the fire, and the coal dust being burnt off. Once the required running temperature had been reached, the thick black smoke was replaced by that of a cleaner and sweeter smelling emission.
We were most fortunate to view
Swanscombe today for it’s been kept in the work-shed since last Christmas,
undergoing renovation work, which was only brought to a happy conclusion the
previous day. Its gleaming and polished
green body-work a testament to the hard labours of the Centre’s enthusiastic
work-force. The young engineer was blackened
from head to toe and his hands were so very black, it looked as if he was
wearing black leather work gloves, his hands so very, very black!
The Museum is a constant source of
fascination and we soon fell into conversation with its Station Master about
their collection of memorabilia. The
dear SO was especially keen to discover if their archives contained any
photographic record of a certain local station, now closed, but which once was
of great importance to his family. Our
guide could not furnish any definite details but he took us into the library for a
quick scrutiny of the records and, whilst there, I found many reference books
for my own future reading and enjoyment.
Before we parted company, our
knowledgeable guide, pointed us in the direction of an especially poignant
exhibition, containing his personal documents, which he had donated to the
Museum. They were his family’s ration
cards, brought into use after the end of WW2, and there they were, all neatly
encased in their green leather wallet, faded by the passing years, and constant
family handling. They were such a small
memorial to early childhood days, still held within our collective living consciousness, and of eager inspection to the three of us. Such exhibitions are of much importance to
our national collection of railway memorabilia and of historical significance
to the workers who once committed their existence to the great steaming engines
bestriding our green and pleasant land, not to mention the great industrial
cities.
And we laughed over shared
recollections of cod liver oil, orange juice and the malt and cod liver oil I
was fed! Our memories so tangible, momentarily
engrossing and captivating, calmly holding us in spell-bound joy, by the
presence of an ancient green leather wallet.
In its entirety as a whole, the Railway Centre is a living testimonial to the early days and workings of our
national transport system and its workforce, who, undoubtedly, knew arduous
conditions of employment, of alarming machinery and engines.
For it is in remembrance that our present and forthcoming history is strengthened and made surer.
Cheerio
Daisy
Daisy
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