Railway Journeys - Your Responses... Train to the coast. A sight that marked the start of a holiday for many. (Photo - Hugh Irvine)

Yvonne Foster (nee Stewart)
My uncle Ernie (Luney) worked on the trains at York St,when I had to go to the dentist my treat on the way home was to go to a bridge near where all the engines were kept so that I could give my favourite uncle a wave. It was worth getting teeth out just for that. We also had lots of train trips to Whitehead. The smell inside the carriage and the smoke were just great. I think my uncle was a guards man. He used to bring home a little black leather bag that we were told never to touch as it had detonaters inside for the trains. They were left on the track for some reason. I must have been around 7 at the time I remember this, when we went into a tunnel all sorts of scary noises were made to scare us and if that didn't work at the next tunnel we were tickled to death, but as we came out of the tunnel there was uncle Ernie sitting in the same place denying he had tickled us. Oh happy days.

Ronni Sloan, England

Like Matthew Jackson, Dromore, (see below) I remember travelling to Portrush by train, but with the added excitement of getting on the train at Eden Halt, travelling through the Barn Halt, into Carrickfergus, and then onto Belfast, where we had the extra excitement of changing to the 'big' train to go to Portrush.

Neither can I remember anything but sun and that was also in the early to mid 50s. We spent the day (one day only) eating candy floss and ice cream, visiting Barries, and building sandcastles or paddling in the sea. The train journey and the tunnels that seemed to go on forever, especially that big one, added to the excitement. I remember being terrified of getting on and off the train. I had heard of someone falling onto the line and I always thought I would fall between the step and the platform. I was also terrified of that strap on the door window, and of being locked in and not being able to get out before the train moved on somewhere else.

We went every year and it was our big day out. We all got new sandals for the trip and made sandwiches to eat on the train. We were lucky and lived in Eden, just a stones throw from the 'Halt' and we would watch the train go by every day. We loved the big 'chuffer' trains, but at the same time were secretly terrified of them, although we were quite used to train journeys as our mother and us children would often travel from Eden Halt to the Barn Halt, where we would get off to go visit our grandmother. We had many happy memories on trains, and the smells and sights will stay in my mind as long as I live.

Eugene McGreevy, Barrie Ontario Canada

I have recollections regarding my last train trip on the GNR line. I grew up in Maghermayo which is located between Ballyward station and Leitrim station. It was a favorite pastime of mine to look across the fields from our farm and watch the train as it passed through the countryside. Like most young boys of that era I found the long whistle and the chug of the locomotive to be quite exciting. It was a big event when it was announced that the GNR was closing that line. As a teenager I realized that I wanted to experience a farewell journey on the line I bought myself a ticket at Leitrim station from station-master Jimmy Cochran and boarded the train one last time. It was a bittersweet excursion for everyone on board The end of the line was Newcastle. I went for a walk on the promenade and had a wee drop of tea and a bun. I boarded the train for the last time to go back to Leitrim. This last ride back was not only the last trip it was also the passing of a way of life for many communities along the line. I still love train rides. Hearing the sound of a whistle and the roar of the locomotive takes me back to my childhood. I emigrated to Canada in 1966. I operated subway trains in Toronto. My wife and I enjoy taking trips on the polar bear express in northern Ontario.

Matthew Jackson, Dromore:

I remember as a boy of about 6 or 7 going to Portrush on the train. This would have been in the early '60s. Portrush was a very long way away to me then and this was a life-event! It meant sunny days, sandcastles, fish & chips and of course, Barrys! I remember how the excitement of a journey on a steam-train kept me awake the night before. The rattly carriages of the train were painted brown with gold stripes and lettering on the outside and cream on the inside. It was somehow important for me to walk up to the front of the train and see what the name on the engine was before getting on. The train left York St. Station quite early in the morning and I remember how the carriages jerked and squealed and thumped as it lumbered into motion leaving the station. As far as I can remember the seats were red leather and there were overhead storage racks with cord netting. The electric lights were dome shaped glass bowls on the ceiling and never seemed to work. The "communication chain" as it was known was indeed a real chain which was painted bright red. There was a stern sign threatening a £2 fine for pulling it out of mischief.

I can recall clearly how the wooden-framed window in the carriage door slid open and closed vertically and it was held in place by a leather strap at the bottom about 3" wide. The strap had holes in it just like a belt and these engaged with a brass pin on the door. This way you could hold the window open at about 10 different heights. If you let go of the strap before it was safely pinned, the weight of the falling window would fling it outwards and you could easily have been hit in the face with the end of it. As a child I wasn't allowed to touch the strap or the window. I can remember too how to get out of the train at a station you had to first of all open the window and then lean out and open the door from the outside by turning a big brass handle. The first time I was allowed to do this on my own the stiff door opened suddenly and I fell out onto the platform.

It was a small boy's ambition to get into a carriage as near as possible to the front of the train near to the engine and hear the wonderful puffing sounds. Train drivers were very important people and they blew the steam engine's whistle along the way to warn people off as it hurtled along the tracks at a breakneck speed, which probably wasn't over 50mph but seemed like 100 as the big metal snake lunged from side to side over every set of points. We used to sit with our faces glued to the window watching the shadow of the train move back and forth across the blur of the other railway tracks and we tried to gauge our speed by the clickety-clack of the bogies over the joins. Every time we passed under a bridge we'd jump with shock as the sound changed. We even used to scream when we flew into tunnels. I have strong memories of going through a tunnel (which I think was near Ballycastle) and how smoke and steam belched in through the open window and filled the carriage. In the dark nobody could get the window closed. It was a unique tarry smell which clung to your clothes for a while afterwards. I've never smelt anything quite like it since.

I can't ever remember arriving in Portrush in anything other than sunshine. I must have thought that it never rained there at that age. Getting off the train there marked the beginning of two glorious weeks of sand-castles, candy-floss, ice-creams, fish & chips and dodgem rides. Nowhere on earth could have been better.

Des Lyttle, living in Vancouver, Canada.
Your article and the stories sure brought back memories for me. I lived in Portadown, facing the old Armagh railway line. I well remember the steam trains chugging past, sometimes lost in a vast cloud of smoke.

There was 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. As you might guess we were enveloped in the sooty smoke of those magnificent steam engines.

A wonderful article folks which brought back memories of a carefree by-gone era.

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