It really began with an innocuous comment on Facebook. You know how it goes,scrolling without noticing, but something really interesting caught my eye. It was my sister, (I’ll call her the Owl) who had commented on a post “..one day I’d love to do that”. Well it’s not often the gift horse pops up and rides by. And I almost missed it. This innocuous comment put my autoscrolling gear hastily into reverse, hailing me abruptly enough to allow me to relocate the post from the other inane drivel I’d skipped by.
It was a post with a picture of the Flying Scotsman, smoke billowing against stately, bushy green trees, blue skies without clouds, and so alluring in its green and black majesty, I could actually hear it go chiggety chigg from the picture. Really? The Flying Scotsman train? In 59 years of thinking I knew the Owl; I’d shared a bed with her when we were little, played houses with our dolls, made mud pies in the garage, worked with her at Chelsea, stood side by side with her during my marriage, her marriage, birth of my kids, birth of her son, loss of her pet, etcetera etcetera…
And yet this was the strongest signal to me that perhaps I knew nothing at all about her. I didn’t worry too much about that for long, nope time was of the essence and instead of aimless auto-scrolling I quickly linked this most overtly passionate desire to an imminent big birthday. Delighted to have been guided by her, unwittingly, and quite smugly, I will add, to this gift I started looking with devoted fervour. While the birthday was still 6 months away the fact that The Scotsman itself was 100 yrs old and doing her centenary tours now meant I had to get a move on.
After a limited but focused search on my iPhone, I finally located a trip on the Flying Scotsman train at Strathspey Railway Station, Boat of Garten, Inverness. From the website I could see that the final date at this location was October 1st. Thereafter it wasn’t too clear where it was going next. I had to get my skates on.
Limited and focused searching, viz a vie looking only at the Strathspey site narrowed my options; with potentially better journey options available from other stations that may have been highlighted in a more general search. But, when you’re in a hurry to secure the tickets before the inevitable sell out, that can put rather large blinkers on you. In my haste, but still to my delight, I could see there were tickets available and at a very reasonable price. I quickly secured them praising my good planning, my excellent observation skills and my smug big sisterness.
To make up for the low cost tickets I was sure we could spend a weekend there and savour the local hospitality something I knew she would love. With accommodation, dinner and transport nicely arranged and my plans all made well in advance, nothing could possibly go wrong.
This is a Little Dramas site though and my life is full of them so it’s almost natural to expect one even with the most meticulous of planning. The day before we planned to travel, my phone literally erupted with explosive messages. Voicemails, WhatsApp’s, sms and Insta all advising me that the Flying Scotsman had crashed. Shock, disbelief and Horror! We tried, and failed, to be able to confirm the event was going ahead. Public messaging not quite on the horizon of the many volunteers who run this railway. Our social media trawls suggested the train itself wasn’t damaged and may well go ahead. Nevertheless decisions take time and we had a journey to make. Cancellation wasn’t foremost on our minds and hope does live eternal.
With no updates by 9 am the next day, I boarded a train to Perth beginning the journey North. By 1030 am and arrival in Perth there was still no public messaging, nor private information cancelling the trip. We grew expectantly confident from the lack of communication. Following a delightful lunch at the Deli in Dunkeld, highly recommended for innovative food and wine I may add, we headed back onto the A9. Around 5pm arriving into civilisation from the majestic mountains and hillsides of the Cairngorms. A bristling, miasma of hill walkers and outdoorsy types carpeted the sidewalks and pavements signalling this was not our kinda town. Not for us such casual outerwear, we had packed only finery befitting the occasion and for our journey on the train.
Then the email arrived, clunking it’s way into the mailbox with 97 tonnes of steel, cancelling the trip. The desolation of that news slowing the Owl to cruising status in her powerful BMW car. It growled to a purr as she vocalised her disappointment in the most profane of vocabulary. I guessed she was unhappy. Moments later we arrived at our hotel. A costly couple of nights without the main attraction, it was like getting to Las Vegas with no possibility of gambling.
Our cases ( yep several for two days) were trudged across the car park, our gait laden with disappointment. Dresses within that earlier may have been jostling for priority for the main event, now laying neatly, floppy and deflated by the real possibility of remaining unseen in the case rather than be worn.
A couple of flat Proseccos later, I did a wider search for the Flying Scotsman’s next outing. Remarkably I found it and for only a couple of days hence. In a whim of “devil may care” and comments of “you only live once” I booked premium seats on the Edinburgh to Aberdeen Flyer.
And that just lifted us enough to get dolled up for dinner. Among the guests at Alexander’s restaurant were weary travellers in hiking boots and Tees. A quick check of the interior suggested nothing out of the ordinary about them. Us on the other hand, overdressed, over glamourised and tottering on the highest and finest heels, brought jaws quickly from the food to the floor. In a single sashay of the best silk, finest wool, most exquisite of make-up and perfume trailing in our wake we were shown to our seats. The deathly silence as we took our specs out to review the menu had every woman wondering if she’d made the right amount of effort. Don’t worry ladies I have to remind you, we were only waiting for a train….. to be continued.
Life’s little dramas blog 