Abbeyhill Halt

You could be forgiven for thinking you'd walked into an episode of Sapphire and Steel, unless that's the kind of thought which you consider unforgivable. Clicking on that faded old advert for Cranston's Waverley Temperance Hotels is your last chance to take refuge in the relatively safe pursuit of wandering about on the east coast main line.

If you're feeling intrepid, brave the rotting floorboards, disturb the pigeons and peel back the corrugated iron which blocks the old stairway from the platform to what's left of the station. Hold your nose in one hand and a torch in the other. See if there's anyone there who'll sell you a sausage sandwich.

Otherwise pick your way through the rusting overgrown lines and the sheathing of old cables, the copper long stripped out. Only thorny bushes wait on Platform 1, sitting on broken plastic chairs amidst the detritus of under-age drinking. Platform 2 has been buried completely by line dancers. Try not to wake the sleepers.

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