The first thing you notice is the noise. The murmur of hundreds of voices; the tap-tap-tap of shoes on smooth concrete; the crackling of an announcement over the intercom that says that train number zero two four zero is on is getting ready to depart, will you please present your ticket to the conductor at the appropriate car.
The second thing you notice are the engines. Streamlined and in colorful livery, no two matching, they puff and shudder, giving the impression of barely restrained wild things that your kind has harnessed (but not for long). Roiling clouds of steam and smoke and embers are shooting up towards the glass-and-metal ceiling high above, disappearing as if by magic as they blend together into a blanket of grey fog being sucked up into the whirlpools of large fans that pump the air clean.
There's a hissing of steam and the whining protest of pistons as you walk inside, and you can see a black engine with gold trim pulling out of the station. You hope it's not your train, could you have messed up the timing that badly, but on closer inspection you see that your ticket reads
GRMN0204, Dranhelm-bound. Seems you're right on time. Probably best to hurry on to your platform, though. You think that the announcer said platform H.