DUNGENESS (continued)
Yet people have a tendency to fall in love with the place and its peculiar charms. My three year old son Louis is one of them. Louis would happily spend all afternoon exploring rabbit holes or picking up pebbles that have spent 5,000 years working their way along the south coast from Cornwall and lobbing them back in the sea. There are two lighthouses and numerous beached fishing boats to admire; a constant, buffeting breeze to hoist our fine, shark-shaped kite aloft and world-class fish and chips to be enjoyed at The Pilot Inn.
But the best thing about Dungeness, especially when you're three years old and mad about "Thomas Takengine", is that it's the end of the line for the magical Romney Hythe and Dymchurch Railway. As if the setting itself isn't strange enough, the sight of a grown man in a cap and greasy overalls chuffing past at the wheel of a highly polished miniature steam engine adds a superbly surreal flourish to a day out at Dungeness.
The RHDR is the world's smallest public railway, an inspired folly built in 1927 for a pair of millionaire racing drivers: Captain J.E.P. Howey and Count Louis Zbrowski. Celebrities of their era, both were famous for their daring exploits at Brooklands circuit, where Zbrowski raced the original Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. Yes, that Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, later immortalized in Ian Fleming's books and Dick Van Dyke's outlandish accent. The 15 inch gauge line was requisitioned for military use during WW2 and re-opened afterwards by Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy.
To this day all 10 of the original locomotives remain in service and despite the trains' diminutive dimensions, for much of the year the railway operates daily as a regular passenger service for the coastal towns it links. That's the most appealing thing about the RHDR. This isn't a novelty attraction; contrived, plasticky theme park nonsense purpose-built for the plundering of parental pockets. No, it's a proper railway, just smaller, that carries more than 100,000 passengers each year including local children commuting to and from school. Lucky kids.
Louis was a year old and barely walking when he took his first trip on this pint-sized steam train. We have returned regularly ever since and he enjoys it every time. But then it's hard to imagine any child failing to be thrilled. Pull the sliding door shut on the tiny, draughty carriages, listen for the guard's whistle and you're off, rattling across the sheep-dotted marshes, past back gardens and over level crossings with wisps of steam drifting past the windows. Locals who see these trains several times a day, every day, still stop and wave. Maybe there's not much else to do around these parts. Or perhaps they're just proud this quirky British gem is still theirs.
The journey from Dungeness to Hythe, the entire length of the line, takes a little over an hour but there are four stops in between if you prefer a shorter ride. And if your little one's boilers need re-stoking when you get back to Dungeness, the station has a café to put most mainline stations to shame. Then it's time to stretch those legs and breathe the sea air. Binoculars are a good idea for exploring this wildlife haven or scanning the waves for the seals and porpoises often spotted offshore. You can nose around the famous sculpture garden of film-maker Derek Jarman's Prospect Cottage or even take an official tour around the nuclear power station whose monolithic presence dominates Dungeness. And of course no family trip to Dungeness is complete without lunch at The Pilot. Or rather no family trip is complete without dad making his utterly rubbish 'fission chips' joke that wasn't even funny the first time.
©Richard Fleury 2006. A verion of this story originally appeared on the Times Online website.