Leaving York.

Faster than fairies, faster than witches,
Bridges and houses, hedges and ditches;
And charging alone like troops in a battle,
All through the meadows the horses and cattle:
All of the sights of the hill and the plain
Fly as thick as driving rain;
And ever again, in the wink of an eye,
Painted stations whistle by.
Here is a child who clambers and scrambles,
All by himself and gathering brambles;
Here is a tramp who stands and gazes;
And there is the green for stringing the daisies!
Here is a cart run away in the road
Lumping along with man and load;
And here is a mill and there is a river;
Each a glimpse and gone for ever. (Robert Louis Stevenson)

Am at last on the cusp of starting my RLS mini-series, but first of all a dash to London on the 7 am East Coast. 4 hours and 51 minutes of a beautifully scenic morning. But there's not a lot of blip possibilitiy from a 100+ mph train. Here we are pulling out of York.

I just started a little late - I could have had "I've got to leave old Durham town"!