Sea to City by rail

I've started a course on Literary Travel Writing at Citylit in London and I thought I'd share with you one of the pieces I wrote for it. We were tasked with writing about a journey.

I boarded the train at Southend Central. “Are you ok with dogs?” the lady I sat next to asked. I was confused. Then a little head appeared from under the seat. “She’s very good” I said. “She used to travelling,” the lady replied. “When I first got her she was too little to leave at home, and now I wouldn’t travel without her.”

Stopping at Chalkwell the beach is empty and deserted. The sun tries to break through the mist and cloud. I can see a dulled yellow disc behind the curtain. It casts a bright gloomy light adding a blue tinge to the grey.

Leaving the station the train runs between the sea and the houses overlooking it. And squashed between the track and the river is a footpath that leads to Old Leigh. The town was spilt when the railway line was built and the side next to the sea has retained a village like atmosphere. It’s the place to buy the freshest fish. The little boats, many of whose predecessors took part in the Dunkirk rescue, stand upright in the mud while the tide is out.

We move into Hadleigh Farm. A tractor ploughs a field. The Castle remains stand tall and clear, framed by the sky behind. In front, lies lush green hillside sloping down to the track and the river.

 

The train rolls on. It fills with more commuters as it goes. There’s little conversation. They’re all glued to ipads and iphones. There are a couple of men with fold-up bicycles. A lady applies her make-up. How does she do that on a moving train?

Small boats, in a haphazard crowd fill the channel between Benfleet and Canvey. Then the scenery disappears behind trees lining both sides of the track. Countryside emerges again briefly, exposing a small and lonely chapel, before the trees enclose us again. The next time they thin, we are in Basildon. Then more trees, behind which lie Legoland housing estates.

By the time we get to West Hornden, we are in farmland again. The cows are laying huddled together. That’s a good sign, I think. Nobody notices. They are engrossed in their electronic equipment.

Urbanisation and The District Line begin as we arrive in Upminster. We follow it to Barking and as we pull into the station, so does a tube train. Its driver sits relaxed, with his sleeves rolled up and the door wide open. I wonder what Health and Safety would say.

A short way after West Ham, the two lines separate. If I look one way, I can see the red, whirly monstrosity that is the Orbit. On the other side is the distinctive Canary Wharf building. A canal winds between the blocks of flats. The Docklands light Railway joins us at Limehouse.

Then we are at Fenchurch Street and everyone scrambles to get off.