Just like a road trip, a train journey always holds the romantic promise of possibility, of an adventure that could lead anywhere. Unfortunately, just like a road trip it often fails to deliver. Yet still I love the idea of travelling by train.
Train Landscape, Eric Ravilious 1940
My earliest memory of train travel was aged about four, when I accompanied my maternal grandmother from London Paddington to South Wales from where she hailed, on what seemed to me to be the biggest steam train you could imagine. (Yes, I am old enough to have travelled on a steam train.) I have vivid memories of standing in the station looking at the great big noisy black iron beast, puffing out thick smoke, that would take us on our journey, feeling terrified yet so excited too. All I remember of the journey in a carriage just like the one pictured in Eric Ravilious’ painting, was repeating rhymes to the rhythm of the wheels on the tracks “We’re nearly there, we’re nearly there…” over and over. I was filled with a sense of adventure, travelling somewhere new, without my parents and best of all on a big train.
Today, despite delays and cancellations and exorbitant ticket prices that romantic notion of train travel still persists. I’m not talking about the commuter hell of peak time travel. I have been there and done that when I was young and full of energy. These days I like to know I’m going to get a seat and a bit of leg room without having to endure the pervading smell of pasties or burgers.
Of course, the best train journeys are the ones that are whisking us away on holiday and I love arriving at the wonderful St Pancras station to get the Eurostar to Paris, Brussels or Amsterdam. The whole experience is so much nicer than airports and planes. Quite apart from the train journey itself, St Pancras is such a beautiful station. Built in 1868 it is a fabulous example of Victorian engineering and extravagant Gothic architecture. Despite plans to demolish it back in the 1960s it has survived and was extensively refurbished in the early 2000s to provide the Eurostar terminus. And if you have time to kill at the station there is original artwork, excellent shops, and fabulous places to eat or grab a snack or coffee. We have been known, on more than one occasion, to extend a long weekend away, by stopping for a glass of champagne at the longest champagne bar in Europe that stretches alongside the tracks. As you sip the chilled champagne and possibly snack on some smoked salmon canapes, listening to the arrivals and departures, it is easy to imagine oneself back in a bygone era of train travel.
I Want My Time With You, Neon, Tracey Emin
The artwork is also impressive. There is a twenty foot long neon sculpture by Tracey Emin spelling out “I want my time with you” placed in front of, but not obscuring the famous Dent clock, greeting arrivals from Europe and hinting at the romantic notion of meetings and farewells. And my favourite, the larger than life bronze sculpture of John Betjeman by Martin Jennings, acknowledging the part the poet played in saving the station from demolition. It stands on a plinth around which the following words are inscribed.
"And in the shadowless unclouded glare,
Deep blue above us fades to whiteness where,
A misty sealine meets the wash of air.
John Betjeman, 1906 – 1984, poet, who saved this glorious station".
John Betjeman, bronze, Martin Jennings
Most of my train journeys these days are day trips into London and the biggest attraction for me is that it allows time to actually get stuff done on the journey. I will always have a book with me as unlike when travelling by car, reading on the train does not make me travel sick, but usually I prefer an activity that allows me to observe the comings and goings of other passengers. I quite like to keep a small sketch book and pencil in my bag to surreptitiously sketch my surrounding travellers and I have been known to produce artwork based on these quick sketches, usually of people sleeping or so absorbed in their own activities they don’t notice me.
Faces on the Train, stitched zigzag book
But drawing fellow passengers isn’t always possible. So mostly when I travel by train I prefer to knit. Not only does it provide uninterrupted dedicated knitting time and allows me to observe the comings and goings around me, but it also guarantees plenty of space on the train. It’s amazing how a woman with pointy sticks seems to deter anyone from sitting next to her. I can’t imagine why. It occasionally attracts some interest and sometimes a question or two but for most people avoidance of the mad knitting lady seems to be the default.
Whilst writing this I thought it would be fun to see if there were any paintings of people knitting on trains, in the interests of keeping it art related but sadly I couldn’t find any. Although there is a fair bit of art featuring people knitting in domestic settings, the closest I could find that combines knitting and travel is this rather fun painting by Russell Sidney Reeve which is in Ipswich Art Gallery. It is a comforting image of travel by bus, with each traveller occupied in their own little world on their own small adventure. You just know that the lady knitting is wearing a hand knit cardigan.
The Felixstowe to Ipswich Coach (1939) Russell Sidney Reeve
My favourite knitting picture, and a favourite portrait too, sadly not on a train or even a bus, is the portrait of Virginia Woolf painted by her older sister Vanessa Bell.
Virginia Woolf, Oil on Board, 1912, by Vanessa Bell (National Portrait Gallery)
I would like to see Virginia comfortably sitting with her knitting in the coach of that Eric Ravilious train, so I have taken the liberty of playing around with some collage. Apologies to Ravilious fans but I prefer the version with Virginia quietly knitting.
But back to my own knitting and on a trip into London last week I rather ambitiously took a pattern for some Nordic mittens that I had started twice before but abandoned. The first time they came out too small so were ripped back to start again in a bigger size. Alas, the second time I was following a different chart and the colours didn’t match the ones I was using which confused me, especially because I was switching the pattern around too. I persevered but the mistakes were too many to ignore and once again I ripped it all back. The whole project had sat abandoned for far too long and I realised that before I knew it another winter would have passed and along with it the need for a pair of warm mittens. Unless I started again now they would remain abandoned for another year. Hence my choice of project for my recent train journey which wasn’t very sensible as you will read below.
But I am pleased to report I cast on and all went well. Arriving at the wonderful St Pancras with time to spare, I treated myself to a cup of coffee (alas too early in the day for champagne even for me) and I knitted some more. And with more knitting on the return journey, I had finished the cuff of my first mitten. Three days later and my mitten is complete and all I have to do now is cast on the second. Maybe I need another trip into London?
One cosy hand…
And should you want to pack your own knitting for train travel these are my top tips which as you can see, I mostly ignore.
Tip #1: Pack all your knitting stuff in its own special bag or pouch. That way you can stay organised and avoid losing needles etc in the bottom of your handbag along with everything else you might be carrying. If you really want to go the extra mile you could make your own bag and I even have a suitable tutorial. (Christmas Fabric optional)
Tip #2: Circular needles work well when it comes to travelling when you potentially risk being squashed up next to a stranger. There is less chance of dropping stitches off the end of your needles or inadvertently poking someone. As you can see I totally ignored this tip and was working on four double pointed needles. Wooden needles are also preferable, as metal may look too lethal when it comes to carrying pokey things but then that may be what you want.
Tip #3: Try to take a project that uses just one ball of yarn and then there is less chance of your knitting and yarn getting tangled. I had three colours, but you know… I like to live dangerously.
Tip #4: Preferably have a pattern that is simple and easy to memorise as it saves having to keep looking at the instructions. As you can see I ignored this advice too.
Tip #5: Whether you’re on a bus or train, space is often lacking so small projects are preferable such as hats, socks or mittens. A large sweater will be difficult to manage in a confined space. Unusually I followed my own advice this time.
Tip #6: This last one is something I read and is not something I have ever tried but you can use an empty dental floss packet instead of scissors as the little cutter will get through most yarn, which will save you carrying scissors. This might be useful for flights, although I just discreetly take a small pair of scissors on the train. I have yet to be stopped for being in possession of a dangerous weapon.
You obviously peaked too soon, when you kindly knitted up my mittens ☺️
Was just explaining to Child the other day, that when we first lived here, our trains had slam doors and you had to lean out of the window to open them. And I have similar, very fond memories of long train trips with Granny - in my case, Kings Cross up to Yorkshire, with British Rail pea soup in the dining car.
Beautiful mitten! I’d have to start those now in time for NEXT winter!