What better place could there be on a rainy afternoon than a first-class railway carriage? On this day out, it was none of your B.R. stuff - this was the Primrose Line, bedded down in the Devonshire countryside. As I squirmed myself into the armchair and felt the lord-like leather and the bum-nestling cushions, huge rolling waves of nostalgia rushed over me. This was history on wheels and the ageless sepia prints made me feel the velvet comfort of sensing that I'm a past person.