OK guys, the thread's been reopened now. Please try to make all discussion rail-related, I'd love plenty of feedback. And now, my first ever journey report! Ever!
backie's musings: 1 - a festive trip
You see, we used to live in York and we always used to see the panto there at York Theatre Royal. It’s not like the normal homogenized, cheesy holiday fare - instead of starring soap actors and CBeebies presenters, it always has the same cast, and it’s always really funny, with actual comedy instead of risque jokes and toilet humour. It’s something we return to every year, despite not living in York anymore. This year, the theatre was under refurbishment, so the panto was being performed in the Signal Box Theatre at the NRM. So I could watch the panto and see Mallard as well. What’s not to love?
So soon we were up at silly o’clock to go to the panto. The 395 Javelin pulled in and we settled down in a window 4x4 table (!) on the right hand side of the train. I plonked myself down in the window seat with my back to the train as we headed through east Kent and the North Downs. Soon we passed through Ebbsfleet International and headed into the fug of London. We really sped up here and it felt like we’d clocked up 140mph at Grays, which was good news as Grays is really one of those places you can’t get away from too quickly. Soon Stratford ‘International’ passed. For those who don’t know, Stratford International was going to be the London stop for Eurostar trains that ran, not to St Pancras, but in a tunnel under Camden to surface at Old Oak Common and the HS2 network. These ‘regional’ Eurostars would reach destinations such as Manchester, Birmingham and Newcastle from the European subcontinent. But due to the delays to HS2, the plan was abandoned.
And thus Stratford International is nearly abandoned too, too big for the function it serves. No Eurostars stop here, only trains like mine to places like Dover or Margate. But still, there are some passengers who do get out, unlike at Ebbsfleet. For us, however, the journey would continue. We plunged through yet another tunnel (there are lots on this route), rose back out again and were swinging round a curve over the tracks leaving King’s Cross (why is he angry? :P) station. The sky still looked quit dull and grey as we came to a halt at St Pancras. I’ve used St Pancras a lot, but disproportionately it’s always for SE Highspeed, although I used Thameslink once to arrive here from London Bridge during First Capital Connect days. But, I’ve only really looked round the main platforms of the station, which can take you to altogether more exotic destinations, such as Paris, Brussels, Avignon, Provençe, and Nottingham (which will no doubt soon be known as ‘the Gateway to Dentdale’, judging by another thread on here). I remember looking at all the sleek, shiny looking trains - the e300s, the e320s, the Javelins and the Meridians - and then contemplating the delights that you could experience just a couple of escalators below.
It was here that that the really big part of the journey began. For there was a monumental voyage ahead. It would take weeks and months, years to complete. We would continue travelling for almost a weekend, until we reached -
“We’re here”, I said. I thought it was useful that King’s Cross was just across the road.
OK, I rather cunningly tricked you there. I’m sorry if you expected me to jump on a Deltic and cross the UK in a railtour via Sheffield and the Settle and Carlisle line. But I needed to pad this out a bit more. Apologies.
Still, there was the usual hubbub of excitement as we entered King’s Cross station or, as I have renamed it due to its exterior aesthetics, ‘The Non-Millenium Blob’. Trust me, the resemblance is huge. We entered the station, and after briefly stopping off at Boots, came into the main concourse, which as always was bright purple.* There was a big Spotify booth that advertised Spotify Premium, and kept playing adverts. A bit like Spotify except without the actual songs. They’re always advertising something here. Once they were handing out boxes of Yorkshire Tea. But enough rambling.
Anyway, I thought it was time to break out the camera. I only have a digital camera, not a big one like the rest of you probably have (I’m patronising you again! Sorry!). What’s more, my camera got its ‘snout’ jammed out and doesn’t work anymore. So I had to borrow my sister’s, which was bright pink and older than mine, though used less often. The shutter button was a bit sticky, but I persevered anyway:
Our train was announced as being on Platform 0, which it almost always is whenever I’m at King’s Cross (although occasionally it’s Platform 1). When I arrive into King’s Cross it can be any platform. Our reserved seats were four completely apart (in the same coach, though), but due to some kind offers, we ended up with two airline pairs. Soon we were creaking out of King’s Cross and into north London. I had my DVD player with me, but for now I was just happy to look out of the window. Alsom I had breakfast to eat - we were out of the house too quickly to have any. Whilst shopping for food the day before, we’d seen a Dorset Cereals multipack under offer, so I was tucking into some toasted spelt and fruit muesli as we burrowed into a tunnel. Soon we’d passed Arsenal’s Emirates Stadium, trundling through Finsbury Park, Harringay and Hornsey, accelerating as we passed through Alexandra Palace, where a diesel was stabled - I didn’t see what kind.
Now we started to speed up further, passing Stevenage and Hitchin. I saw a wind farm and regarded this as a kick in the teeth for renewable energy antis, as well as those who want to frack under half of York.

A Stagecoach bus wound its way through the country below us, which reminded me of The Titfield Thunderbolt, and I surmised whether or not we could race it to Biggleswade. I also saw a large field full of solar panels, which must also be regarded as a major coup for those fighting against climate change - especially as a partridge had perched on one of them and was sunning itself on top of it. Mind you, not much sun was to be found today, as the sky was still grey and gloomy - though turning bluer as we passed through St Neots, where buses can be caught to Oxford and Cambridge. I chewed into a cheese & tomato pizza swirl as we steamed (not literally) through Huntingdon, and I started to read the Private Eye, which I have really got into recently - it’s very funny. There was a gang of men in the two tables in front of me (I was facing London) who were reciting parts of the Monty Python cheese shop sketch (“The cat’s eaten it!” “Has he, now?” “She, sir!”). This reminded me of my DVD player, and I decided to watch some episodes of The Simpsons. In no time at all we were pulling into Platform 9 at York railway station.
When we got to the NRM much later on, I had a small amount of time to look round the museum. So I made my way to the Great Hall, and after a quick run through Shinkansen 0, made my way to the turntable, where I took some photos of Mallard, Duchess of Hamilton, Evening Star, The 'Chinese Engine' and Bauxite (and also Eurostar 3308, who was at the hall entrance):

Here's a photo of Royal Scot from inside the Station Hall:

Another of these can be seen in the post below.
The panto was great yet again, but soon it was time to leave York again and return to the station. So I headed over to the footbridge, on the way seeing 220012 leave on its way to Dundee. Our train was delayed, so I managed to take some more (albeit blurry) photos on the camera - my first moving trains. These are all in the post below.
And so we boarded the train back, finding that we had reserved a table (hallelujah!) and so we settled down to reflect on a great day. The seats were either blue or grey, while on the way there they’d only been blue. I only saw the DVTs of each train, but thought that I must have been on an HST set for one direction. The journey was surprisingly quick and soon we got to King’s Cross, where we were surrounded by a colourful group of liveries - the two trains on our right were For the Fallen and Claus 91. As we got to St Pancras I cursed myself for not taking a photo of a Velaro train for POTW, but the camera was now buried in the bottom of my rucksack. And so we boarded our Javelin and soon were back home after a great day.
*For some reason, King's Cross seems smaller now. I guess this may be to do with how massive Euston and St Pancras are - particularly the latter - and that almost everything at King's Cross is upstairs, and, like a Dalek, I've never been upstairs at King's Cross, plus the fact that I've never been to the ticket office. But I have been to the Waitrose, and King's Cross is the only one of the three that has one - yet.
EDIT: Click on the images to expand them. I couldn't fit all of them in this post because of the ten attachments limit, but hopefully I can add them into another post.