I was still feeling a little cheated that I could not walk to the water’s edge, (see previous post) but I tried to summon up a little enthusiasm for the other reason we were here on Hayling Island.
We were here at Anita’s request to take a trip on the island’s Light Railway, which was rescued when the local branch line was closed in 1963. The local residents campaigned to keep the railway as a local attraction, running along the seafront.
To be fair, it looked like something out of the ark, but I climbed aboard. After all, I could see more of the sea as we went along, even if it was another torment for me.
I couldn’t tell how old the train and its carriages were, but they had been well cared for. I wasn’t prepared for the worrying rattling and clanking as we took off, and the train’s ear-piercing whistle almost burst my ear drums.
The journey was short, but we had to stay on board for the return journey because we had left the car there.
It was a delightful trip down memory lane, and a bone-shaking Victorian experience…
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