Saturday, November 08, 2008
"You're too late," said the lonely-looking man stood at the entrance desk. "It takes a good two hours to look around the museum, and I'm locking up in half an hour." He handed me a leaflet to show me what I was missing - street of shops, telephone museum, tramcar, lawnmowers! - and suggested I arrive rather earlier next time. But there won't be a next time. His no-doubt delightful museum isn't easily accessible to the car-free and I'd had to endure a lengthy cross-estate yomp to get here. Opportunity lost. So now I'm sat on a dusky not-so-nearby station, awaiting wheeled deliverance. Fifty years ago, in the age of steam, this was a major inter-city refreshment stop where I could have rested awhile with a slice of battenberg and a cuppa. Today not one single original station building remains, let alone an institutional tea shop. So Alix, if you're still around, mine's milk no sugar, cheers.
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