We met in the station foyer at York and made our way over the footbridge that took us above the platforms and out behind the main buildings, down onto the small path that cut between two wire fences, passed the rail parts yard and through the car park. Ahead we could see the main entrance to the National Railway Museum and to the left the railings that guided the queues into the Railfest 2012 exhibition. Our excitement grew as we wound our way through them, gave our tickets to the inspector and made our way into the dark engine shed that lead out to the main exhibition yard corralled between the curve of the East Coast Main Line and the link route from the goods yard to the west.
We came back out into the light and the damp air was filled with a confusion of sounds and smells and tastes and sights. Crowds of people were everywhere, queuing to get into engines or carriages, walking between the exhibits, stopping to eat their sandwiches or looking at and reading the information boards. A sharp whistle and a cloud of white steam from an engine to the right of us was followed by a hoot from a larger one on the next track while in front of us a class 37 grumbled its way down the tracks with its short rake of Hogwarts Express carriages. We took a few steps and followed a narrow track which funnelled us into the narrow gauge carriages of the Ffestiniog railway. The peaked capped volunteer slammed the door, blew his whistle and waved a green flag and with a jerk the beautiful Palmerston engine breathed hard and pushed us along the track.
The smell of coal smoke filled our throats and reminded us of winter Sundays at Grandma’s house, sitting in front of the fire and watching the flames lick the back of the hearth. The smoke whirled and eddied and mixed with the diesel exhaust and the smell of burgers and frying onions that made the air thick enough to cut and heavy enough to hold the cacophony of sounds that surrounded us. The grinding of ballast underneath our feet mixed with the screech of the rails and the chattering of a thousand voices against the constant background hum and puffing of the engines. Every now and then the Tannoy would cut in to let us know of some forthcoming and exciting event.
And then there were the colours, different colour blues of the Direct Rail Services 20s and the new GBRF 92 with orange flashes and the superfast South-eastern Hitachi 395 and the British Rail blue of the King’s Own Yorkshire Light Infantry Deltic with its bright yellow nose. The different colour greens of the old British Rail 37 and 40 and the British American Rail Service 31, the Peckett Yorktown and Mardy Monster and then the red of the Hogwarts Express and the maroon of the Princess Coronation and the silver and red of the Virgin 57 and their Super Voyager diesel multiple unit and of course the unusual matt black finish of the Flying Scotsman that is undergoing restoration.
We made our way up and down the rows of exhibits, across the rails, across the clinker and over the sleepers and In every direction there was something interesting to look at, something new or old that had played its part in the development of the railway industry. We clambered in and out of the cabs, sat where the drivers would be, stood where the firemen would be and imagined the scenery rushing by. We looked on in awe and amazement at the sense of power and majesty and the engineering effort that had gone into making these beautiful machines that had shaped our past and still play such a role in our modern lives.
After several hours we had seen everything we could take in and done everything that our feet would allow and thankfully the rain had held off. We made our way back into the exhibition shed to have a cup of tea at the Brief Encounter restaurant and talked about our favourite engines and our special moments and who was the star of the show but the real stars were not the engines or the rolling stock but the people who had organised and managed this wonderful event. The National Railway Museum really is a great experience, well worth a visit and Railfest 2012 had just made it even better. I’m already looking forward to our next visit.
Thoughts from a Guerrilla Worker 