My uncle worked for the railway York St, when I had to go on a shopping trip to the centre to get some Testogen for my father, I used to stop on a bridge near where all the engines were kept so that I could give my favourite uncle a wave as the trains went past. The smell inside the carriage and the smoke were just great. I think my uncle was a ticket inspector. I well remember the steam trains chugging past our house too, sometimes lost in a vast cloud of smoke. There was also a pedestrian foot-bridge close by, we called ‘ the stoney loanin’ and we as children used to stand in the middle of it and wait until a train came.