Tuesday travels. . . National Railway Museum York

We had visited York on our first trip to the UK in 2003 but we didn’t visit the National Railway Museum so we were insistent that we visit on our trip in 2012.  We were lucky because my brother and sister-in-law were staying in a house swap in Yorkshire and we spent several days with them. Although they had been to the museum before they were happy to take us and go again.

The museum really needs a full day to take in all that there is to offer.

There are trains from many different eras, from Stephenson’s Rocket to the Bullet trains in Japan

and there are exhibits on all the paraphernalia that goes with trains. There are exhibits on artwork, uniforms, posters, films, rolling stock, building railways etc.

There was a mail carriage,

and Stephenson’s Rocket,

but the exhibit I was most interested in seeing was The Flying Scotsman.  Unfortunately it was being restored when we were there so we could only see it in the workshop not looking regal at all.

I have checked the museum’s website and apparently the train is still in a state of restoration and is still not on view in the museum.

While we were in Yorkshire my brother and sister-in-law took us to catch a glimpse of a steam train in operation.

There is something magical about the sound of a steam train. It certainly conjured up many childhood memories for me.

From A Railway Carriage

Faster than fairies, faster than witches,
Bridges and houses, hedges and ditches;
And charging along like troops in a battle
All through the meadows the horses and cattle:
All of the sights of the hill and the plain
Fly as thick as driving rain;
And ever again, in the wink of an eye,
Painted stations whistle by.
Here is a child who clambers and scrambles,
All by himself and gathering brambles;
Here is a tramp who stands and gazes;
And here is the green for stringing the daisies!
Here is a cart runaway in the road
Lumping along with man and load;
And here is a mill, and there is a river:
Each a glimpse and gone forever!

Robert Louis Stevenson.

I have to confess that my sister-in-law and I left the museum a little earlier than the men and retired to Betty’s tearoom.

My sister-in-law knew all about these tearooms and was quick to introduce me to a magnificent afternoon tea.