Wednesday, 11 January 2017
The romance of steam.
Landsborough station harks back to a time when things moved at a slower pace, when trains were powered by coal which sent romantic wafts of searing steam into one's ankles as they passed, and spat cinders in one's eyes and choofed and puffed and kept one awake at night.
Ahh for the good old days.
We are still there in a sense, with a rail system that finds getting out of bed in the morning something of a challenge, and running consistently on time something of an anathema.
That's not poorly exposed shade beyond that window, it's the black hole into which timetables disappear.
Landsborough.
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1 comment
I find that at the commuter train station near my place- where one train coming in from one direction arrives... while the other is routinely two minutes behind getting from the other direction.
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