Skip to main content

Magic Miles

The search for ‘GNRI’ on eBay has become an addiction. Postcards, books, pamphlets, posters; all have become must-haves in my quest for railway smarty-pants-ness.

My current favourite is a 1935 travel guide written by J B Stephens entitled, Magic Miles in Ireland, Great Northern Railway. I’m imagining myself as the hard-working colleen Deco-esquely depicted on the front cover, arms akimbo, ready for action. Except she was probably patronisingly expected to peel potatoes, whereas I have my own crops to harvest in the form of endangered railway paraphernalia.
Indeed, being a female in a largely male-dominated field of railway enthusiasm provides me with an interesting perspective, one which wishes to challenge the notion of woolly-headed trainspotters, and not only through my presence but for the men themselves.

I have been honoured to meet civil and mechanical engineers, financial directors, librarians, project managers, train drivers, station managers, heritage officers, professors, web designers, and many others from all over Ireland and the UK. Their ages vary from 25-93. ‘Railway enthusiast’ is not a term which defines them, but is one which unites them, their own myriad of professions providing their status and therefore their unique input into railway history. Women are also not excluded by any means.

On Thursday, 24 May, I was invited by Margaret Mallon to give a public lecture at the Dundalk County Museum for the Dundalk Railway Heritage Society as part of their 60-year commemoration of the closure of the GNRI engineering works. 

Looking back at me were an audience of eyes, female, male, old, young, professional, enthusiast, retired and resident. No-one fell asleep – I shout at you if you do – and a lively discussion followed, with one female resident sharing personal memories of the engineering works and houses built by the GNRI, whilst the female heritage officer at Louth County Council invited me to search their archives.
The Dundalk Democrat provided reassurances that my talk was not a ‘very stuffy subject’ (thanks, I think), whilst The Argus hailed me as a ‘widely recognised authority’, which sets a worryingly high bar to reach for.
Perhaps it is time to readjust the stereotypes we apply to fields of interest – archaeologists don’t all look like Tony Robinson, for example – and instead focus on the significance of differing viewpoints which enrich histories.

As I pack my soapbox away, some blighter has just outbid me on a postcard of Oldcastle Station. Time to roll those sleeves up and continue my battle for GNRI memorabilia domination.

Popular posts from this blog

Valley of the Engineers: The Boyne Viaduct

Leaving my Roman sojourn into George Papworth’s Drogheda railway station , I head northward to the Boyne Viaduct. I pass the original Dublin and Drogheda stone engine shed and then – holy moley – the earth falls from under me and the Mesopotamian arch of Ctesiphon is recreated twelve-fold.  Boyne Viaduct (S. Osgood) Agog, I needed to watch my step and not the towering vertigo-inducing spans which rose piercingly from the River Boyne’s embankment. I stopped, composed and consoled myself that the steep steps down would be worth the ascension after my mooching about.  Boyne Viaduct (S. Osgood) Soaring across the Drogheda skyline the Boyne Viaduct was designed by Sir John Macneill (1793-1880) from 1844 and constructed between 1851 and 1855. Twelve round arches span the southern embankment, with three on the northern side, whilst tapering stone piers support the central section. Boyne Viaduct (S. Osgood) Constructed of hand-cut limestone and granite blocks, visual aesthetics were n...

Howth-a-ya?

Following festive frolics, a dose of a head cold and a birthday (ugh), it’s time to get back to the good stuff: blog posts! So let’s get back to my day of station-spotting which concluded at Howth. Dublin’s riviera promised sunshine, a beach, cliffs and overpriced seafood. The perfect end to a perfect day out. Howth Station's original Georgian frontage Having only seen the Georgian front of Howth Station (I got the bus here a few months back), my eyes deceived me by delivering me to a Mills-style GNRI station, complete with yellow, red and black bricks, as per my first true love, Dundalk. Platform-side Mills brickwork But it was not a mirage. Lurking behind tourists I waited for the platform to clear, camera at-hand ready to snap as-empty-a-platform-as-possible on a busy sunny August Bank Holiday Monday. Taking a photo of the somewhat weed-covered brickwork, a tourist-lemming appeared at my elbow with an irritating ‘cer-chik’. You can turn that sound-effect off, y’know...

Watt a Shock: Sutton

Nearing the end of my day-excursion  stopping at the stations along the way to Howth, the calm twinkling sea guided my train into Sutton railway station. Sutton Station - platform view An unassuming building, Sutton Station is a simple white-washed, single-storey Georgian example of functional symmetry. The projecting iron and wood (not glass) veranda jaggedly but gracefully sweeps towards the building mirroring the ironworks’ curves. The ‘GNR’ emblem finishes the company's decorative addition. 'GNR' emblem under station canopy Opened as Baldoyle & Sutton in 1846, it was renamed Sutton in 1901 until 1916 when it was renamed as Sutton and Baldoyle. It reverted again to Sutton in 1935. The footbridge is a modern replacement of the original lattice-girder design favoured by the GNRI and its chief engineer, William Hemingway Mills. Tickets please!  Shown above is that the station building was originally natural stone colour, and not white. I particularly like...