Getting there?

It’s wise to have a plan. It gives the rain gods something to play with.

In my case, the plan was to travel by train from Buxton to Leominster (pronounced Lemster), with a single change at Stockport. The timing would give a whole afternoon to wander around Leominster, which is celebrated for it’s black and white buildings. Great plan.

The Stockport change was uneventful. Onwards we went; Leominster, here I come! But, at Crewe, the train stopped. Flooding had closed the line. The fact that the rain was still bucketing down was not lost on passengers. The train was emptied. We were told to listen out for announcements.

Enjoying a cuppa in the Crewe station cafe, somehow I missed the invitation to catch a bus replacement to Shrewsbury. Others missed it too.

From every misadventure there lies the opportunity to observe human responses. For instance, at one stage a young woman importantly informed the folk in the waiting room that she’d been told there would be no more trains or buses that day, so the best advice was that we all book into hotels for the night. She seemed to enjoy being the unofficial voice of authority. As a result of her information, many folk, including me, started searching on our phones for somewhere to pack down for the night. Thankfully no-one had time to actually book, before an official railway announcement to please board the train!

We soon discovered this new train was only going to Shrewsbury, but at least we were all heading in the right direction. Another step forward. Then off the train, to await developments.

In any group caught out by weather, there will be such a range of circumstances. A mum traveling with a baby and a lad of about 8yo did a great job of remaining calm, despite the potential difficulties going forward. The only hint of tension occured when the lad asked her for food from the snack machine. She snapped ‘no.’ The way she said it left me with a dilemma… did she say no because he didn’t need it, or because money was tight? The day was long, and cold. Should I offer her my support? It’s a fine line sometimes between being kind and interfering.

An older, very tall, gent who had recently had surgery for lung cancer was looking quite grey. His clothes appeared to be a bit light for the conditions. However, nothing could persuade him to take a seat in the waiting room, rather than on the breezy platform. His manners and quiet resolution had a warm dignity. I bet he’s a terrific granddad. A few of us kept a gentle eye on him, and he was looking a lot better by the time he reached his home station of Ludlow.

There were humorous moments. The bus from Crewe to Shrewsbury which I missed had taken the long way round to avoid road closures; the look on those passengers faces upon arrival when they realized that the rest of us had managed to get to Shrewsbury before them. Was this a rail version of the tortoise and the hare?

In Shrewsbury, after some time, we were told to go to the bus waiting room; buses were coming! And then they weren’t. About twenty minutes later, we were moved to the train on platform 5. We waited…. and waited. Then came the announcement ‘we apologise for the inconvenience.’ Hearts sink. ‘Could the passengers on the train at platform 5 please move to the train on platform 4.’ The response was a mix of resignation and laughter. One or two voiced the lightly-held opinion that this was the train company’s way to make us feel something was happening.

Again, we waited. But then, movement! Hurrah! The ensuing journey had it’s nervous moments though. A couple of times the train stopped completely, and at one point we could see flooding running down the lines beside ours.

But being delayed also provides opportunity to connect with other folk. I was lucky enough to meet the lovely Su. Our conversation began with the usual introductory feelers (weather, where are you going, etc) but soon wandered into a wide range of topics. When I mentioned that there was only one area of the UK I hadn’t enjoyed, of course that would turn out to be where she was from!

As a solo traveller, in-depth conversations with a thinking person who shares many common strands, but comes from a differant environment, is treasure indeed. (And she’s offered to show me the better face of Lancaster!)

In case anyone thinks I’m making light of a serious weather event, I need to acknowledge here that the flooding in the UK from Cyclone Babet over those couple of days caused tragic loss of life, and the aftermath has left problems for both urban and rural folk. These will take years to rectify in some cases, with long-term or even permanent consequences for some.

Despite the later hour, arriving in Leominster was certainly a reward for perseverance.

The inn I stayed at had been built c1630. My room was at the very top; probably originally the servants quarters. Home owners back then didn’t really care about servants comfort, so the final set of stairs are narrower and steeper than the lower sets. But the view of the street made up for it. The timber in the room itself was delightfully original, with no straight lines or level pieces.

Arriving later in the day meant my wanderings through Leominster were undertaken after dark, providing a lovely perspective of beautiful buildings.

What a grand ending to an unplanned day!