You don’t need to be a trainspotter in a anorak to enjoy this. You just need to be someone who’s ever looked at a crowded train to Brighton and thought, “I’d rather be boiled in oil.” These trips are the antidote to modern travel. Instead of a seat reservation app that crashes, you get a wooden carriage, a scuffed leather seat, and the distinct smell of coal smoke that somehow smells like freedom.
Take the Bluebell Railway, for example. It’s about an hour from London Victoria, but it feels like you’ve crossed into a parallel universe where people still say “tally-ho” without irony. The train doesn’t rush. It saunters. You’ll find yourself waving at cows—yes, waving at cows—because the rhythm of the engine makes you feel like a five-year-old again. The cows, frankly, look unimpressed, but that’s fine. You’re having a moment.
The Proper English Picnic, Misunderstood
Most people bring sandwiches on these trips. God, the sandwiches. They’re the kind you make when you have intentions of being healthy, but then you also pack a flask of tea so strong it could strip paint. I once sat opposite a bloke who pulled out a whole pork pie wrapped in a napkin, like he was presenting a christening gift. He ate it with a plastic fork, staring out the window as if he was in a BBC period drama. No one judged him. That’s the magic of steam trains: everyone is a little bit theatrical.
Then there’s the North Yorkshire Moors Railway, which is a longer trip but worth the extra coffee. You get out at a station like Goathland—that’s Hogsmeade station from the Harry Potter films, by the way. You half-expect a wizard to walk past with a shopping bag from Waitrose. The air is cold and clean, and you stand on the platform feeling like you’ve done something profoundly sensible with your weekend. No emails. No deadlines. Just a whistle in the distance.
Steam Train Day Trips from London
