Last Saturday, at an hour far to early for a weekend, we set out into the freezing, but sunny, wilderness in the hope of seeing a train. No I haven't turned into a spotter, I tagged along for the walk. The train was of the steam variety, had just been built and was on its way from Doncaster down to London via our very own station (and probably quite a few more). As we live near to the line we thought we'd have an amble up to experience something my mum has always raved about "you can't beat the smell and noise of the old trains". I also thought it would be a good chance to take some photos so didn't complain too much. The walk was icy, we all did very well not to break our necks getting to a bridge which seemed much further than I remember. The train rushed through in what must have been less than 30 seconds, the snaps hardly worth looking through. But somehow it was an enjoyable experience, nice to spend some time away from the computers and to see the scenery around us covered in a blanket of snow.