On what is one of the most boilacious days Aberystwyth has to offer, Rose, Si, Tom and I decide to take one of the ‘Great Little Trains of Wales’, the Vale of Rheidol steam train from Aberystwyth to Devil’s Bridge.
Si, with great foresight, suggests we sit in an open carriage, an idea which I poo-poo, ‘because it might be cold’(hah!), besides the best seats are already occupied by canny Silver Steamers who seem to have staked out their territory hours in advance. But, never mind, we have comfortable seats by the open window and are looking forwards to our trip through the picturesque Rheidol Valley. Then, just as we are about to leave the station, two passengers climb aboard, sit behind us and suddenly the air is filled with the rank cheesy aroma of wet dog. ‘It’s a bit hot for her,’ her owners tell each other, ‘good job we gave her a thorough soak first!’
Him and Me before the wet dog arrived. |
Wah! The dog is large, hairy and restlessly pants doggie breath at everyone. To add the mix, no sooner have we set off when the couple open glistening packs of stinky sandwiches. Behind Rose, a Silver Steamer has slipped off her sandals and is resting her gnarled feet on the seat, while at the other end of the carriage a group of folks old enough to know better are exchanging innuendos. Bad behaviour, it seems, isn’t ageist.
Fortunately the scenery is truly breath-taking (not that we’ve got much breath left as we’re trying not to inhale the fumes inside the carriage) and travelling on a steam train is really rather lovely – apart from the black smuts that fly in through the window covering us with fine dots of soot.
At Devil’s Bridge we eschew the busy station cafĂ© and cross the road to some tea rooms which offer a lamentably dire selection of tired old cakes and, after much digging round, an Earl Grey teabag which may once have been appeared on Time Team. I know they have a guaranteed captive audience twice a day, but does that really justify the lacklustre service, chunky old crockery and an utterly dreary, depressing atmosphere? I hate being critical, and I’m sorry if the cafĂ© owners read this – but, for goodness sake, would it kill you to buy fresh teabags? Or make a sponge that wasn't iced with something tasting of fish paste? With a bit more effort and a cheery smile or two, the place could be a gold mine!
Me, Rose and Si get ready to grab seats. |
Ah well, I have plenty of time to cool off on the return journey. We know the system now, so rock up early to beat the competition (just) and secure our seats in the open carriage. It’s all very pleasant, a gentle unwinding simply enjoying the view… only this time without the stench of wet dog.
Comments
May I also say that your excellent writing took me right along for the ride in the carriage of many smells, with the beautiful views through the windows somewhat alleviating that sooty stuff blowing in from outside.
Jeepers!
Wonder why some enterprising someone has not set up a competing tea shop of some sort to welcome the regular visitors? Even if it was a seasonal pop-up kind of place.
How great that the return trip allowed you all to truly enjoy all that you surveyed.
xo
Despite the wet dogs, it's a lovely part of the world. You are so lucky to live there.
J X