Tuesday, 22 March 2011

Madonna of the Trainspotters

There seems to be a patron saint for pretty much every occasion, with one glaring omission - railway enthusiasts.
It struck me as a trifle unfair considering their devotion.
When you think about it, they have all the qualities of a religous order:
They are usually recruited at an early age and remain steadfast in their allegiance all their lives.
They gather secretly to avoid persecution, and wear discreet lapel badges so that other brothers may know them when they meet.
They wear a simple habit of beige.
Appearances would suggest a vow of celibacy.

Anyway, for all those delightful, mildly eccentric and very British devotees of the iron road, here is your saintly guardian.

May your ticket be forever clipped by the celestial inspector.
May your summer seaside excursion be not filled with footie fans.
Grant, we beseech you, the grace to smile when rude words are spoken into your microphone by irreverent oafs as you try to record the sound of a Class 5 thundering through Little Knobblington on a wet wednesday afternoon.
And, when your number is up and the Great Trainspotter in the Sky signals that it's the end of the line,
may you be eternally chuffed.

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