Wednesday, 10 June 2015

Tracks of my Years

Taking the train into Cambridge is for me like sitting in front of one of those cheesy 1930’s Hollywood flashback sequences. There's a green blur of trees and fields then a house I used to live at, then another blur and a place I used to go running. More blur, an old cycle route, blur again and a favourite riverside walk. It's a bit like examining a core sample of my last 30 years as I pass three of my old houses and numerous old haunts within the space of 10 minutes. I wonder why all my previous residences were so close to a railway line and think I could perhaps take part in Radio Two’s “Tracks of My Years” feature.

The flashbacks of nostalgia soft-fade into the open flat black fenland and the three carriage train achieves a hypnotic beat across the horizontal landscape. My mind starts to drift.

We reach Ely. A sea of laughing, chattering youth pours into the carriage with their bags and bikes and smells of deodorant and fresh coffee. I'm jolted back to my present where I wouldn't change places with a living soul.


Tim said...

You were on that train in the 1930s?? And surely it was in black and white?
Seriously, though, a beautifully evocative post. It took me back into my own parallel universe.

Rose Blackthorn said...

A very mellow post for you.

A trip down memory lane.

Thank you for sharing.

Rog said...

Tim: You spotted an analogy-flaw but thanks!

Rose: Trains always make me mellow - providing they are in Norfolk where there's no phone signal to get on Facebook, Twitter or other diversions ;-)

Mike and Ann said...

"I wouldn't change places with a living soul." That's an enviable position to be in, Rog.

Z said...

Lovely post, Rog.

Pat said...

Tracks of my years! The boy can't help it.:)

savannah said...

i miss traveling by train, sweetpea, so thank you for taking me along! xoxoxo