Railway stations age like old words. With every repetition we precipitate new meaning.
BroadstairsSo there ought to be another train in... Wait a moment.
ChalgroveI've lost sight of him again.
ApplebyHere I am.
BroadstairsIn an hour or so. Eighty minutes.
We're in a country town very welcoming to visitors. Too many of its fine men fled to Hughenden, so in 1848 they made this terminus in a Tudor style. For sure, it facilitates departures, but secretly it invites us to stay.
BroadstairsAnyone hungry?
ApplebyI'd like to wander around first.
ChalgroveLet's not forget, we need to keep an eye on the time.