William Shakespeare, Charles Dickens, Oliver Cromwell, The Black Prince and Alfred the Great all waited their turn. Lord Hurcomb took precedence in the naming of the steam locomotives built to propel the rail passengers of Britain into the second half of the 20th century. Who he? Why, none other than the chairman of the British Transport Commission. Nice one, Cyril (his first name).

But while Hurcomb settled for No. 70001, pride of place in the 55-strong class of 7P6F Pacifics was given to Britannia (hoorah!). She hit the rails, No. 70000, in January 1951, at around which time (assuming a standard nine-month human gestation) my appearance on the scene had just been settled.

During my years as a trainspotter — whose pleasures, viewed in retrospect, rival almost everything I have enjoyed since — I never once clapped eyes on the doyenne of the class, which were dubbed ‘Britannias’ in honour of the female personification of our island. Clive of India and Sir John Moore were familiar sights, though, on the King’s Cross-Grimsby-Cleethorpes expresses previously hauled through my home city of Peterborough by Edward Thompson’s B1 4-6-0s, often Mayflower, which is also now preserved.

What a huge pleasure it was, then, to greet the mighty locomotive for the first time as she prepared to speed a trainload of passengers south in — another first — The Cathedral Express’s inaugural trip starting from Oxford. Immediately following a careful restoration this was (dare I write ‘first’ again?) the engine’s 21st-century debut on the main line.

As she pounded into the station, it was a surprise to see that she had been turned out in unlined black. She was also without the nameplates that had been bestowed upon her by Minister of Transport Alfred Barnes (no locomotive name for him, I think) at Marylebone — a station I have still, bizarrely, to set foot in — on January 31, 1951.

In consequence she seemed to be attempting an impersonation of her classmate No. 70047, aka ‘the unnamed Brit’. “For some reason the London Midland Region was slow to name its allocation of the last batch [of the engines] and 70047 was never named,” says my definitive sguide to the BR ‘Standard’ engines. But for what reason, I wonder.

Britannia made a sprightly run on a 315-mile trip that took us through London and the Kent countryside to Canterbury and then back, via Dover and Folkestone.

Having visited Canterbury on another steam trip last year, we decided not to explore its somewhat limited provision for tourists (I naturally exclude the cathedral from this dismissive observation) and headed instead by bus to Whitstable. This proved to be a seaside town of great charm, to which I intend to return soon to sample the oysters and other seafood delights on sale at stalls along the seafront.

They went untasted on the day of the steam ride because, travelling Pullman class, we had enjoyed a champagne brunch of scrambled eggs and baked ham, and could look forward to a dinner of ricotta tartlet, rump of lamb and orange crème brûlée and cheeses on the return trip.