Blogue d'un québécois expatrié en Angleterre. Comme toute forme d'autobiographie est constituée d'une large part de fiction, j'ai décidé de nommer le blogue Vraie Fiction.
Thursday, 21 April 2016
A birthday memory about trains
I took this picture at the National Railway Museum in York, maybe my favourite museum in the world. It illustrates this post's topic. Today is my birthday and as it is often the case on my birthday I reminiscent of some of my past birthdays. Maybe it is because I'm getting older, maybe it is because the birthdays from childhood are always the best. But anyway, as far as I remember, I always loved trains, especially the family's electric train. This is likely why on one of my birthdays my parents bought me a book about the history of trains, one of these educational books for children. And... And I barely read it, only bits here and there. I remember being very underwhelmed by this present, shame on me. I don't know why, maybe because for me trains were either very fancy toys or very big ones, things that were dynamic, impressive and the images (none were photos, they were only simple drawings) did not convey the majesty and beauty of trains, railways and train stations. Maybe because it was not a story book and thus I didn't find it really exciting like fiction is. But now that I am a grownup and I have learned about the history of trains and railways, I would love to read this book again and see if it was any good. I think I'd appreciate it more now. My parents must have given it to charity, so this is unlikely to happen. All the same, I thought about this present today.