Yesterday I was back in 1907. Or so it felt. We went to a birthday that began in an old train that, slowly and shaking, took us to an old station. Here we had gourmet lunch while the world seemed to slow down outside. The hills were purple with heather, the forrest surrounded the little building clad in vintage decor with 1960s magazines and train tickets from the golden days scattered around the laced tables. We had coffee and layercake in one of the old train wagons before heading back to civilisation, where the world started spinning again.
The grandparents.
Yesterday I was back in 1907. Or so it felt. We went to a birthday that began in an old train that, slowly and shaking, took us to an old station. Here we had gourmet lunch while the world seemed to slow down outside. The hills were purple with heather, the forrest surrounded the little building clad in vintage decor with 1960s magazines and train tickets from the golden days scattered around the laced tables. We had coffee and layercake in one of the old train wagons before heading back to civilisation, where the world started spinning again.
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