Maybe it was because of his own journeys in pre-war Poland or his experience of interminable days and nights aboard crawling troop trains but my father could never really understand my interest in steam railways.
I must admit that it was only after BR steam finished that I took any interest in the odd-looking locomotives of continental Europe but all that changed at the first glimpse of a DB 012 Pacific at Rheine in 1971. I had in fact almost gone to Poland back in 1969 and I got as far as the Polish consulate before finding that I was too idle to complete the visa paperwork and opted instead for a week with a WR railrover. Now anyone who has read my Black Fives and Blunders will not be surprised at this missed opportunity of visiting a country where the majority of locos were the fire-breathing variety. But six years later came the chance to make amends.
My father invited my wife and I to visit him in Warsaw in the summer of ‘75 and this time I leapt at the chance. With no cheap flights in those days, it was natural to go by ship and rail via the Hook, a journey of around thirty hours. Yes, we had couchettes but very little sleep courtesy of frequent visits by passport and customs officials as well as money changers who warned us that we must not change our Sterling except at
