I'm no longer accustomed to baring my soul in these entries like I used to. Somehow the arrival of the blogging phenomenon made the idea of the original c.1999 'daylog' seem painfully self-conscious and eventually just obsolete. However, for a brief change I'm going to stick my head above the parapet and talk about me rather than where I've been or what I saw. No train pictures, none of the shielded allusion and coded sentimentality of the usual entries.

The bottom line is I've had a really positive, busy weekend. You won't see that kind of unqualified statement much here, and I feel the need to explain to an extent. When I left Weston, things weren't great, but a new job and a new place to live offered a chance to start afresh once again - I've been lucky like that I suppose. Now, the job is more challenging than ever and I'm feeling tested almost to the point of incandescent anger by it's politics, but I can take refuge in a place I've carved out for myself in my home town and my community. When I first moved here, I think people felt I immersed myself in my local pub out of pure desperation and barely disguised alcoholism. It wasn't so, I met decent people who I'm proud to say are now friends and acquaintances. Over the past year, my family has been tested too and has gathered ever closer together which has also changed life much for the better.

Things move on and times change, and I realise that I'm no longer the solitary character I'd become in the final days in Weston. I spent Friday with friends who I rarely see altogether and away from professional circles, and had a silly and entertainingly drunken Saturday. Today I saw my family, and spent a rare sunny afternoon watching music on the Town Green until the jazz band scared us into leaving despite the cheap beer. In short, I had the kind of normal, happy, carefree weekend which people are having all over the place, all the time. It might not sound particularly special to most.

But it was, and now it's back to work to face more of the impossible challenges. The difference is, nowadays I look forward to the weekend - whether it's spent at home or travelling the rails.

For the first time this summer I was in Highbridge and it wasn't raining on a Sunday morning. Headed out to the station to see the Torbay Express thundering by. I'd normally have gone for a better location for a picture, but my nephew was going to the station with his parents and I wanted to see his reaction to the train too!

Typically the sunshine disappeared for a few minutes as the train passed by, but it was good to see the crowds out to see this annual spectacle. Lets hope this means summer can really begin...

Getting home was never going to be easy after the dramatic events of this weekend. Woke to fairly decent weather in York, but it was still raining down south. Amazingly, noted that departures to the south west appeared to be back on the National Rail website. Allowed myself the luxury of an excellent Romley House breakfast and a good talk with one of the other residents who was off to the North York Moors Railway today. After checking out and a leisurely walk to the station, noted that sure enough my booked service, the 0927 Newcastle-Paignton was running according to screens - but rather worryingly advertised as 'standing room only' - likely because of all the people who had not travelled over the last couple of days. Noted all the advice not to travel today had also disappeared from the station. Had coffee and waited. Then in a period of probably less than a minute, lots happenned...

First, the screen flicked from advertising the 0927 to Paignton to stating it was going to Birmingham New Street. It then briefly appeared as cancelled, then Paignton once more. Finally it stabilised on New Street. With the train a few minutes late, but due any second I headed to the Information Desk clutching my ticket. I figured I'd be heading to Kings Cross again provided GNER would honour another operator's ticket again today. A small but angry queue had developed, and whilst I watched the boards and waited I realised with some horror that there were no Kings Cross trains. Everything southbound on the East Coast Mainline was terminating at Peterborough. As a passenger a few feet in front of me was advised once again "not to travel today" I made the decision to head for Birmingham anyway - there were connections to London at Derby and Birmingham, and I had relatives there if I got stuck. Made the train with seconds to spare, and found myself standing in the First Class wheelchair space. It turned out that the 'standing room only' situation was caused by people trying to get to London who'd already had all kinds of wrong information, and were now heading for St Pancras via Derby. Settled in for a long, hot journey. The Train Manager was Kim, a familiar face who was getting a very rough deal from passengers. She turfed out a couple of Standard Class passengers and got some of the less mobile standees seated. On seeing my ticket she looked really downcast and said 'hold on two minutes and I'll sort this out'. I realised she planned to evict another passenger and I replied 'not on my account, not today'. I don't think I've ever been rewarded with such a look of heartfelt gratefulness!

In any case, arrived at Sheffield a little early, and much of the coach bailed to get the Midland Mainline HST on the adjacent platform. Settled into a seat and chatted with the staff who had done an excellent job on a tough morning. Turned out trains were getting through to Bristol, but only one each hour due to a failed tamper at Bristol Parkway. The very kit used to get the line open after the floods had partially closed it again! From here on, things were simpler if still a little crowded. Got the next Plymouth-bound service from New Street, which was naturally packed and the TM sensibly filled the remaining First Class seats with exasperated and dejected looking passengers. Aside from some standing water, Worcestershire and Gloucestershire looked eerily untouched by the weather - despite knowing that just a few miles from the line people were suffering terrible problems.

Grateful to get back to Bristol, and following a traditional will-they-or-won't-they style cancellation on First Great Western's part, home pretty much as expected. Despite a lot of people having a difficult few days in terms of travelling, the railways have impressed me this weekend. I was perhaps foolhardy to make this trip despite all that was going on, and it would really have been my own fault if things hadn't worked out. Whilst it's probably true that companies could have worked better together, stopped trains at additional places or whatever, the staff on the ground have handled a huge amount of very concerned people in a mainly very sensitive way. Our network is a long way from perfect, but in some respects I wouldn't have it any other way.

Should have been doing some fairly unusual track today, but in a very unlucky summer of tours, today's was of course cancelled due to low bookings. Thinking philosophically, it's fairly likely that today's tour would have been abandoned anyway given the rain down south where yesterday's trip which provided our stock would have been impossible. So for today, the plan was simple: cover as much of the passenger track that Pathfinder's Cleveland Cleric tour was meant to cover, quite a bit of which was new to me.

This meant an early start, and unfortunately that I missed what promised to be a pretty good breakfast. Made up for this on arrival at the station, and pretty soon was able to board the 08:36 service for Middlesborough which arrived incredibly early. Found a seat with no trouble and made myself comfortable. Being a fan of high-backed, firm chairs I just don't see the problem with the Class 185's seating arrangements which seem to trouble others! Soon off, and I was pleased to see the weather at least getting no worse as we headed north. The Journey Planner adviser a change at Thornaby for the following Saltburn service, though it would have been just as easy to head on to Middlesborough - except for a likely platofrm change. The Saltburn train was running a little late, but soon enough a rather battered 142 arrived and I found an appropriate seat for a good look at Tees Yard as we passed by. Seemed only a short time since I'd last been here on my trip to Whitby, but took the northernmost fork at Guisborough Junction and carried on through rather bleak industrial landscapes, catching brief glimpses of railway impedimentia and innumerable private sidings branching away into the various facilities. A little before arrival in Saltburn, noted the steeply graded branch to Crag Hall and Boulby climbing away. Disappointed I wouldn't be going that way today at least.

Saltburn itself is a curious town. The impressive and sizeable former railway station building dominates a square with a more modern devlopment behind, including a sizeable supermarket. A car boot sale was in full swing beside the store. A pleasant market square gave way to a wide boulevard lined with local shops which lead up hill and out of town. Even fairly early on a Sunday it was beginning to become busy, and a little cafe near the station was doing roaring trade. Pottered around and brought a drink in the supermarket. Watched my incoming train leave for Darlington, and waited in improving conditions for the next arrival which would form one of a handful of Sunday services through to Bishop Auckland.

Retraced my steps to Middlesborough and Thornaby, this time heading north west at Eaglescliffe South Junction, and passing the poorly used station at Teeside Airport. Familiar track here to Darlington, where we rested for a brief moment or two under the vast trainshed's roof before squealing away and taking the branch for Bishop Auckland shortly outside the station. By now the sun was shining, and I was looking forward to my plans for later. Stuck with the train all the way to it's rather uninspiring terminus, which was a pretty disgusting station seemingly miles from civillisation. Noted the link with the preserved Weardale Railway running away into the distance. The bonus was a decent cup of coffee at the attached station cafe, though the service was a little glum. Back one stop through the seemingly endless tunnel to reach Shildon. Alighted and packed my coat away for the first time this trip, and headed along the footpath to find Locomotion.

I was surprised to note how comprehensive this site is - a long straggling walk beside the tracks, learning the story of rail travel as your progress, and in particular it's local links, as you go. Much of the early story linked with the work of the former Shildon resident Timothy Hackworth, a pioneer of the railway age. Lots to see and do for younger children too - and I think my nephew would have loved it. For me, the highlights were the more recent machines - the prototype Deltic and the APT-E being two which I'd seen many years ago at the National Railway Museum prior to their move here.

A tremendous array of wagons, carriages and track machinery on display too which told the story of the everyday life of the railway perhaps a little better than the NRM's main site, although of course Locomotion lacks the prestige of having celebrity engines on site. Its good to see that the National Collection goes far beyond Flying Scotsman and Mallard. Flagged the useful 'Ecobus' which potters back and forth along the site and walked back to the station in now blazing sunshine. Enjoyed a peaceful few minutes before the squealing of a 142 approaching heralded my departure for Darlington!

Arrived to find the station busy with a few delays, but nothing too drastic unless of course you were heading for the South West which was still pretty much closed from all angles. Hopped aboard a well loaded 185 heading for Manchester Airport, and enjoyed a smooth and uneventful journey back to York. Pottered around the station for a while, watching trains and people passing through before deciding to head for some food and a pint. Not quite the day I'd planned when I booked this weekend away, but with new track under the belt and a visit to Locomotion into the bargain, I can't complain.