Sadly, not a lot else remains of the Victorian fixtures & fittings that once gave our station so much elegance, and these stone age photographers no doubt turn in their graves seeing how this fine building now appears as one giant advertising hoarding. Why, one cant even buy a proper BR Sandwich anymore, or the mythical British Rail Cup of Tea (three'pence a slice).

This was the steam age, when travellers dressed formerly for the adventure of train travel to Surbiton. Ladies and Gentlemen would bow and curtsey, mount their railway carriage, and disappear in a mammothly choking bellow of steam and soot. Great days!

The great train shed of Waterloo. This vast canopy of iron and glass shielding our railway activities from those typically ghastly english weatherfronts. Nowadays, where gorgeously coal guzzling locos once chuffed out clouds of choking fumes , one cant even light up ones cuban cigar without fear of prosecution.

Rush hour: circa 'A long time ago'. Some things never change, as commuters fight each other in the scrum for the home straight. Umbrellas at Five o'clock.

The Windsor Bar, a wonderful Edwardian style saloon where one could prime oneself for the horrors of train travel. First, book your seat with the lady at the ticket booth, and then alight to the bar for a first class Gin & Tonic. Splendid. You can still see most of these features today, retained for the main doorway of Waterloo's Travel Center.

And so, to our last pic - the old Waterloo Ticket Office, a masterpiece of marble pillars and wooden panelling, now, thanks to our great leaders, ground into the dust, only to be replaced by, well, it couldn't look worse, could it?

Thanks to all the mysterious benefactors who blessed me with their faded photographic relics. The world is delighted to share your memories. Bon Voyage!

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