The weather has been awful - constant rain and miserable. But in the end I managed to move out my piles of stuff (having sold our house and had extra stuff in store at the house sit made for extra work.)
I managed to keep to the deadline but was sore and sorry for myself. My feet, my legs.... reall complaining to me.
But I had a good sleep and set out early the following morning to take two grandchildren on the promised steam train journey.
The two girls and I travelled by train from Hemmant - it was an interesting conversation. "Why couldn't Mummy drive us in?" I explained the sense of taking the train, and saving Mummy time and money.
When we arrived in the city, we went to platform 3 where our steam train had yet to arrive, but soon it did puffing its way into the station.
I was amazed how many people turned up to ride the train. I suspect all carriages were full. Ours was. We had a wonderful volunteer in our carriage who welcomed us on board and told us the history of the carriage and of course the safety rules. Children were not allowed to hang out the window they way we did when we went to school on the train many years ago.
We were allowed into the engine to see where the train driver worked, and where the fireman used his shovel to move coal into the fire which was of course burning. We learned how hot it was to work there, especially in summer where the heat must have been overwhelming.
Soon it was time to board and we were seated according to details on our tickets, (which the conductor came along during the trip and punched a hole in it) in a carriage with wooden everything. It was amazing to see how we relied on timber in those days!
The train journey took us on a loop down passed Tennyson and the Pat Rafter Tennis Centre, and on over the Brisbane River at Indooroopilly, back into the city and out through the west side of Roma Street Station and around to Bowen Hills, through the RNA grounds, and back through the city centre to Roma Street. An hour's journey in all.
The attendant on our train was Bob, with the same surname as the grandchildren, and we chatted with him about his name, ancestry and family history. The girls were thrilled and keen to speak with their Granddad about the connection. We have a photo of the girls with "Uncle Bob".
When we arrived at Roma Street Station, the crowds had already gathered for the next journey.
I managed to keep to the deadline but was sore and sorry for myself. My feet, my legs.... reall complaining to me.
But I had a good sleep and set out early the following morning to take two grandchildren on the promised steam train journey.
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| Steam Train at Roma Street Station, Brisbane |
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| The Wooden Carriages Await |
When we arrived in the city, we went to platform 3 where our steam train had yet to arrive, but soon it did puffing its way into the station.
I was amazed how many people turned up to ride the train. I suspect all carriages were full. Ours was. We had a wonderful volunteer in our carriage who welcomed us on board and told us the history of the carriage and of course the safety rules. Children were not allowed to hang out the window they way we did when we went to school on the train many years ago.
We were allowed into the engine to see where the train driver worked, and where the fireman used his shovel to move coal into the fire which was of course burning. We learned how hot it was to work there, especially in summer where the heat must have been overwhelming.
Soon it was time to board and we were seated according to details on our tickets, (which the conductor came along during the trip and punched a hole in it) in a carriage with wooden everything. It was amazing to see how we relied on timber in those days!
The train journey took us on a loop down passed Tennyson and the Pat Rafter Tennis Centre, and on over the Brisbane River at Indooroopilly, back into the city and out through the west side of Roma Street Station and around to Bowen Hills, through the RNA grounds, and back through the city centre to Roma Street. An hour's journey in all.
The attendant on our train was Bob, with the same surname as the grandchildren, and we chatted with him about his name, ancestry and family history. The girls were thrilled and keen to speak with their Granddad about the connection. We have a photo of the girls with "Uncle Bob".
When we arrived at Roma Street Station, the crowds had already gathered for the next journey.
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Ericka Muldowney