It occurred to me the other day, walking across the wind tunnel concourse to Euston, that I'd never given a thought to Chertsey station, the transport hub that gave my boat its name. My second thought was that maybe it no longer existed; after all, I'd never heard it subconsciously in a list of suburban station announcements. My third thought was how many of the stations that gave their names to Grand Union boats still exist, and how many - if any - fell to Beeching's axe. That's still a question for the future, but I came home and looked on the National Rail website, telling it that I wanted to journey from London to Chertsey - and there it was, going out of Waterloo, which is why it has never impinged upon my consciousness.
So I had a look to see if I could find any pictures, and instead I found a Wikipedia article, written in a way that suggests, perhaps worryingly, perhaps hearteningly, that there is one for every station in the country. And my, what a handsome station Chertsey has. I'm so glad it's not a grim damp peeling box, at least not on the outside.
My fifth thought was to compile a list of all the boat-name stations that I've been to, or through, but I thought at that point that I should go and have a little lie down, perhaps.