THE OLD RAILWAY STATION

Here’s part II of the great 60^th birthday celebrations as promised.

Just how do you commemorate such a momentous occasion as a 60^th birthday? Last year, alpaca walking was how I ushered in my new year but this time I’ve gone for a ‘murder on the Orient Express’ theme minus the murder itself by booking an overnight stay in a quirky pullman carriage at the Old Railway Station near Petworth.

The Old Railway Station near Petworth

First a spot of lunch at the pub next door called ‘Badgers’. A traditional country pub on the outside and cosy bistro on the inside.

Badgers

Very cosy on the inside

Food delicious! Interesting clientele too. As I was busy tucking into my medium rare venison steak, a chuffing steam engine pulled into the front car park desperately trying not to flatten any of the local Chelsea tractors already cluttering up the driveway. Amazing!

Popping in for a quick pint

Was it a birthday surprise?

Bellies brimming with vino and venison, a stroll back to the Old Railway Station conveniently a 5 minute walk away.

After reporting to the ‘Ticket Office’, we were escorted to our sleeper berth located in a pullman carriage called Flora parked next to what was once the station platform.

Our room for the night aboard 'Flora'

Flora after dark

And what a delightful surprise awaited. All aboard! Clambering up the rickety British Rail steps into the carriage, we ventured along a narrow wood panel clad corridor past a spaciously modern bathroom to reach the main pullman room.

Tickets please

The wood panelled corridor

It was fabulous! A large antique metal framed bedstead at one end of the carriage and a small living room area with comfortable chairs, lovely old furniture and tea making facilities.

Inside our carriage

Cosy seating area

Perfect for a cosy night in with a bottle of birthday wine.

Room service

For a moment I felt like that grand old duchess in the movie, half expecting a pompous little Belgian detective to throw open the door and announce that a crime had been committed. It wasn’t me Guv! Honest. Although I did see out of the corner of my eye, the other half try to surreptitiously sneak a couple of packets of drinking chocolate into his back pocket. Guilty as charged.

No sign of Poirot

No 60^th birthday would be complete without a decadent afternoon tea and I’d pre-ordered one instead of an evening meal inside the Old Station House, the interior of which had been restored to its former glory in a tasteful manner.