It is thirsty work being a steam engine

After picking Woodpeckers up near Fairford this morning following her sleepover with her brother, sister and cousin we headed towards the north of Gloucestershire for lunch with fellow blipper HerbSusan and her husband John. It was the first time we had met John and I'm glad we did as we had lots to chat about and I was surprised to find he is a keen photographer, although not yet a blipper (Why not we all ask?). We had lunch together in a pub in the ancient village of Winchcombe, which is a place we must revisit as it seems to have much to explore.

After eating we headed another couple of miles further north to the northern extremity of the Gloucester and Warwickshire steam railway, the GWR. Helena and I have been there before on a couple of occasions but not for many years, but it was the first time for John and Sue. This time we didn't go on a train journey but just hovered around the old station, which reeks of the traditions of the old railway system as various trains came and went, some of which were powered by steam engines.

We had some more chats and managed to find time for cups of tea and coffee in the delightful sunshine. I was more tempted to take pictures of the steam engines than the others so kept hopping about near the platforms as they shunted around the carriages and also took on supplies of water which are of course essential to the generation of the steam which drives the pistons to turn the wheels and pull the trains.

As a kid I loved watching trains and even managed to get to drive one for a short distance when I was about ten years old. Seeing this engine filling up with water amused me as I watched the various volunteer drivers and firemen going through their paces. The overflow of water from the water pipe, which Helena accurately likened to an elephant's trunk, is a quite normal occurrence but reminded me of my childhood watching all the different engines all filling up wherever they could find a water tower and a pipe. If there was no water then the engine was in danger of overheating and would become useless.

We finally said our goodbyes and I am sure we shall meet again soon, possibly in or around Oxford one of these days. Our drive home was by way of an ancient 'salt' road which climbed up out of the Severn valley and onto the Cotswold hills to run along the ridges taking us towards Cirencester and villages with enigmatic names such as Guiting Power, Temple Guiting, Andoversford, Brockhampton and Birdlip. The journey reminded me that I must go back there and spend a good day taking landscape pictures of that beautiful countryside before all the harvest is complete. It is a stunning area hardly touched by habitation and reeks of the olden times to me.

More of the steam day here