The detail is exquisite. The Victorian rail magnates were people who understood a profit and loss account yet also knew the importance of fine architecture. None of the ersatz shoddiness of Warszawa Centralna for them. Like the Gothic cathedrals it was inspired by, St Pancras will stand for centuries. Warm brick, cast iron and glass come together to form a magnificent and functional structure.
Below: A fitting tribute to the man who saved St Pancras from demolition in the 1960s, Sir John Betjeman, Poet Laureate, and my favourite poet. The statue captures the essence of the man admirably - raincoat, bag and trilby hat, head raised in wonder at the Victorian temple to steam. Around to the left is the Betjeman Arms (a questionable name, as Sir John was fond of neither beer nor pubs), yet the atmosphere is nice enough to spend some while waiting for your train. Quotes from the former Poet Laureate line the corridor walls.
Seeing me reading the lines of poetry prompted a member of the bar staff to offer me a selection of Sir John's poems printed specially for the opening of the Betjeman Arms earlier this year, a very nice gesture that shall ensure my return. The food was reasonably priced and unfussy, and there was a summer cider festival taking place with a number of excellent ciders (unavailable in Poland) available on tap.
And so, on time, my train departs for Derby. Modern efficiency coexisting with the timeless magnificence of fine architecture.
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