Monday, April 29, 2013


ST. PANCRAS STATION AND THE TRAIN FROM EUSTON

Sunday night my friend Spencer took me to the renovation of the Victorian neo-gothic railway station of St. Pancras. The red brick and spired edifice held great memories for me from my childhood as one of the landmarks of the city. 



Over the years the station had fallen into a state of disrepair and was earmarked for demolition. A last minute rescue was launched by preservationists, developers, and others who cared about history and wellbeing of the city. This coalition was headed by the great poet laureate John Betjeman who is now honored by a statue at the heart of the now bustling success story that is St. Pancras station.


On the fast Virgin train from London’s Euston station headed north tilting on computer generated Pendolino technology at speeds up to 135 mph. Three hours and three hundred miles later my brother Alan will be meeting us at Penrith to bring us to his home in Cockermouth in the Lake District. The older couple opposite us at our table appear as the archetypal Northerners: he in tweed cap, navy jacket and yellow striped tie, reading the newspaper avidly while wife sits almost meditatively in her olive raincoat.
 











The train darts through the passing landscape; stone walls and slate roofs pass at dizzying speed. Only when we leave the suburbs and emerge into the rolling green hills am I able to look outside and remain oriented as acres of pastureland dissolve into miles of history.

3 comments:

  1. Hi Martin and Cindy,

    Hope you get rested and ready to go. looking forward to following along.

    Chuck

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  2. You guys have aged quite a lot in that last photo. Is that what jet lag does to you?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I thought we looked pretty good for eighty after all this time traveling.

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