Description
The station has two ranges of buildings, each 244 feet (74 m) long, built in local grey rubble stone on either platform. Deep canopies on composite iron and wood girders cover the platforms; there are further canopies on the road side of both buildings. Only the building which faces the sea at Abbey Sands and the town is still used and this houses the ticket office and a cafe; the building on the other platform is locked out of use although the gate from this approach road is open when trains are running. The one remaining signal box (now rented out for commercial purposes) is situated at the south end of this platform near a decorative cast iron bridge across the tracks.
The forecourt in front of the main building is shaded by trees and is raised above the road by an arched retaining wall. The Grand Hotel is on the right of passengers leaving the station, and the sea front is just beyond. Buses to the harbour and town centre stop on the sea front by the road leading to the station.
The platform nearest the sea is served by trains towards Paignton, the opposite platform being used for trains towards Exeter St Davids. There is step-free access to both platforms and a wide footbridge links them.
Read more about this topic: Torquay Railway Station
Famous quotes containing the word description:
“To give an accurate description of what has never occurred is not merely the proper occupation of the historian, but the inalienable privilege of any man of parts and culture.”
—Oscar Wilde (1854–1900)
“I was here first introduced to Joe.... He was a good-looking Indian, twenty-four years old, apparently of unmixed blood, short and stout, with a broad face and reddish complexion, and eyes, methinks, narrower and more turned up at the outer corners than ours, answering to the description of his race. Besides his underclothing, he wore a red flannel shirt, woolen pants, and a black Kossuth hat, the ordinary dress of the lumberman, and, to a considerable extent, of the Penobscot Indian.”
—Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)
“God damnit, why must all those journalists be such sticklers for detail? Why, they’d hold you to an accurate description of the first time you ever made love, expecting you to remember the color of the room and the shape of the windows.”
—Lyndon Baines Johnson (1908–1973)