
Cloudy skies loom over the English countryside
Green fields and tiny houses with well trimmed gardens
The train is packed with commuters
Everybody is glued to a smartphone
Annoying Rap music escapes from headphones but nobody says a word
Brits love to suffer in silence with a stiff upper lip
Vandals leave their mark with colorful graffiti on bridges
A stark contrast to the dark stone aged by centuries of pollution
We are riding the TransPennine Express
Mighty steam trains first conquered this route
No billowing smoke and steam from today’s silent electric trains
The smell of soot replaced by the bitter aroma of hot brake linings
Tired white faces fill the platform at Wigan North Western station
Patiently waiting to be swallowed by the electric propelled tube
Going home after a long boring day at work
We pull out and pass a cricket field with manicured turf awaiting the white suited players.
They always stop playing at 4pm for tea and cucumber sandwiches
England is so civilized
The train picks up speed towards Preston
The hills of the Pennines gently roll by
Train commuters oblivious to the moving canvas of breathtaking scenery
Green fields surround the tracks but the wind swept hill tops are bare
The train carves a path through the once thriving industrial heartland of England
Cotton weaving mills are mostly gone or converted to trendy apartments
The coal mines closed after Prime Minister Thatcher crushed the industry
Shopping malls replaced factories
Wind turbines fill skies once littered with mill chimneys
Tourism has outstripped manufacturing industry
Sleepy villages become overloaded with summertime visitors
White collars outnumber blue collar workers
The train parallels the A6 road to Scotland
Once a stagecoach route slowly taking passengers by horse
Now congested with BMWs and Range Rovers
Our train pulls into the historic city of Lancaster
Born from a Roman camp on the banks of the river Lune
The ghost riders of forgotten steam trains don’t recognize the changed lands of jolly old England








