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Roddy's mutterings


roddy
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  • 3 weeks later...

Well that's my pre-op assessment done and dusted. All the tests were satisfactory and I just need to phone the hospital at tea time on 5th Feb to find out what time I need to be there on 6th. Looks like I could be in for up to a week if they do the job via keyhole, and certainly a fortnight if they need to sharpen the knives. They will only find out on the day. I went into the office of a stern looking Sister, and she started off by saying something like----So you're coming in for a reversal of a diverticulitis following a Hartmann's procedure? I replied----Well I don't know about that, as far as I'm concerned, you will take away the colostomy bag and join up my plumbing!. She looked over her glasses and smiled, and was as nice as pie after that. Not looking forward to it, and have a fortnight to worry. I know it's daft but can't help it. I'll be OK on the evening of 6th.

I can see no link between sickness and railways. My surgeon told me a couple of months ago that his attic is full of an N guage layout. I shall have to persuade him to get out in the garden!

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roddy said:

....I can see no link between sickness and railways....

Makes you wonder doesn't it, especially when you start reading through some of the threads on the forum. Perhaps the common link is our ages!

Not sure how many of our members are currently parked in the sidings but I'm hoping you're all back out on the mainline as soon as possible. Hope everything goes okay for you on the 6th Feb Roddy.

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Mick, we finally got sort of nationalized health care, so my AGE has worried me as well. Always something going on that I would treat myself somehow. I always wondered why all the train magazines had photos of old guys, and now I'm one of them. ha ha ok, I;m not that old but I crossed the hump of 50 last october so it's all down hill and easy from here right?

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traingeekboy said:

I crossed the hump of 50 last october so it's all down hill and easy from here right?

You will find out as you get older Griff,

I'm personally 10 years ahead of you so could give you some guidance, but its more fun finding out for yourself :)

Ian

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  • 4 months later...

It's been an eventful year so far, but I have had no time at all to get to the railway.

Surgery in February went without a hitch, and after only days I was back home with everything working properly again. In March after I was feeling much better, we went on a motoring weekend with the Mazda MX5 boys. Disaster struck on the way home and I ended up on the hard shoulder 20 miles from home. What seemed like a simple burst water pipe soon developed into a complete change of engine. I was determined to see this job through myself, and with the help of two good friends we removed the useless lump and refitted a much newer one. It appears that poor past maintenance caught up with the original engine, and despite my proper servicing and looking after it, I got the end result. By the time we waited for parts that the courier lost to fix the water leak, then finding that the head was probably cracked, then getting the new engine here and running, 2 months had passed by. In the meantime I had got the greenhouse producing seedlings and the garden tidied up. While I had the opportunity and an empty engine bay, I cleaned and painted all of the hidden areas that get forgotten and slowly start to rust away. The new engine also got a good paint job and a little graphic was added to remind me of the water problems encountered.

rsz_001_zps871b0358.jpg

All is well now, but my wife has gone home to Russia for a six week holiday and I'm fending for myself. Perhaps now, I can find time for nthe railway.

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  • 2 months later...

http://www.kentrail.org.uk/Strood.htm" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;

Just browsing this morning and came across this. I lived barely 100 yards from Strood station between 1953 and 1969. I was 5 years old when we moved there, so the station and goods yard played a big part of my formative years. Unfortunately at that time I had little interest in the rail traffic, but the goods yard and lock basin were my playground. Us boys used to spend hours fishing in the basin. What we hoped to catch, I have no idea. The basin was closed to the river and was nothing more than dirty oil covered filth, but it didn't stop us from trying. The tracks and wagons were all that we needed for our games of hide and seek and cowboys and indians, and later on as a convenient hiding place for a crafty cigarette. Sleepers were a common fuel for our November 5th bonfires. At no time were we ever chased away, and looking back, it is a wonder that none of us were ever hurt. In later years, I used the line through the tunnel to London and my Polytechnic education. The line to Rochester, Chatham, and Gillingham was handy for evenings out, and the Maidstone line served for proper fishing trips further up river. What isn't mentioned in the article is the small single branch line that served some sort of industry from the far end of the yard. A small 060 tank was the engine that ran this traffic. The Strood Junction signal box featured in my O level art exams. The tracks shown in the photos seem much more complicated than I remember.

Our overseas friends may find it interesting to see the third rail method of electrification. For some reason, Southern Region decided that this was the way forward instead of overhead supplies. Pickups were by slippers below the motorised coaches. As youngsters, we were very aware that we had to steer well clear of them. No doubt that railway trespassers are still tripping on them and being found later on beside the tracks.

It can be used as quite an interesting layout I should think.

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  • 2 months later...
  • 3 months later...

I give you this link to my local newspaper for the interesting photographs. The rail lines into the South Docks became disused many years ago. Late last year, a line was reinstated to serve the docks once again. The first "light" locomotive ran on it in February of this year. I'm not familiar with modern diesels, but perhaps the last photograph illustrates this.

http://www.sunderlandecho.com/history-nostalgia/remembering-the-rail-enthusiast-who-captured-sunderland-s-age-of-steam-1-7172874

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  • 1 month later...

For our Australian members.

Tomorrow, I shall be driving from the North of England to the South Coast ending with a night in a hotel. On Saturday morning, I shall meet 31 friends who live in the South. We all drive Mazda MX5 cars. We shall be taking the Channel Tunnel into France, and our itinerary takes us to within a couple of miles of the village graveyard where my Uncle has lain for 75 years since the Dunkirk retreat. I have a poppy wreath to lay on the centre memorial, and a poppy cross for my Uncle's grave. In that small graveyard, lie 5 Australian boys who died in their Lancaster bomber in 1945. I am in touch with a chap who is trying to collect photographs of every RAAF grave wherever it is in the world. He doesn't have these five, so that's a special job for me as well. Just want you to know, that your boys are never forgotten, despite the distance from home.

We shall then be joining with almost 30 French drivers and their MX5s for a mad Sunday. My wife and I are staying on for a couple of extra days to see a little more of France than a simple overnight trip would make possible.

Catch up with you next week.

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  • 3 weeks later...

The new forum layout looks to be OK Mick. Haven't noticed anything amiss so far. Thank you for your efforts.

My French trip was a dream. Found my Uncle's grave easily enough and paid my respects. Also photographed the Australian graves and passed them on as promised. Good time with my motoring Pals, before heading off to St Malo and Mont San Michel. Then on to Cherbourg for the ferry and the long trip home. Must go again next year.

The other day, admin here forwarded an email to me regarding my Uncle. The writer was a Frenchman who lives in a nearby village. He has studied the history of his local area, and has made it his mission to try to find the person behind the gravestone names. I was a little sceptical on first reading the mail, but all seems OK and I have filled in some of what I know of my Uncle. He in turn has told me of the fighting that took place when my Uncle was killed. It seems that unwittingly, I almost followed his exact footsteps on the day 75 years ago. The power of the Internet eh!

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  • 4 months later...

I haven't told this story here before. I was living in Moscow, but every three months I had to return to London to renew my visa. Usually I did the trip by plane, but I decided to do something a bit different. I'll do it by train! I have told this story on another forum so have copied and pasted it complete with spelling mistakes.

Ticket was purchased and the train leaves Moscow at midnight on a Sunday. I believe that there are two trains a week, but I caught the Moscow to Hannover on a Sunday. These trains despite being long distance have no dining cars or other refreshments available. Luba packed enough sandwiches to keep me going, and when I was deposited on the train, she bribed the carriage conductor to keep me supplied in tea. Each carriage has it's own conductor and I was in one of the better ones which had cabins with seats and fold down bunks for three people rather than a normal sort of carriage where passengers made up their own bunks where they could. Our conductor informed us that it was a no smoking carriage, but that he would place a bucket with some water in the end vestibule away from the end where his little cabin was. Please smoke there and use the bucket as an ashtray.

My travelling companions were Russians who took me under their wing despite very little common language. They tried often to dose me with smoked fish and vodka, neither of which I find enjoyable.

The train wandered on a single track through the night. No border controls into Bielorussia and stops at Minsk and Smolensk, both names from history and offering little sight beyond the station precincts.

Late Monday morning we arrived at Brest, on the Polish border. Not only did the Russian border guards storm the train, but the Russian customs as well. They had plenty of time available to them and took full advantage by thoroughly searching everybody's luggage and person, even closely examining the seams in clothing for hidden cash. That is until they reached me!

Not being very fond of their attitude, it was one of those times when I found it beneficial to speak even less Russian than my usual few disjointed sentences. Much disgusted at finding a Brit aboard, and after several attempts to find a common language and being met with me standing very upright and speaking very precisely, "I do not speak Russian, I do not speak German, I speak only English", they turned on their heels and cleared off with my passport.

For those of you not in the know, Russian railways run a broader guage than the rest of Europe. Therefore Russian trains cant run on Eurpean rails or vice verce. Simple solution --- change all of the bogies. The train drew into a large shed. Tracks were doubled to give both guages and cables ran the length of the tracks. The carriages were split into singles and each was positioned at a four post lift. A gang of men crawled under the carriages disconnecting bogies, and when separated the carriages, passengers and all were lifted clear. Bogies were drawn out, new bogies drawn in, carriages lowered, all reconnected, and now we had a Russian train on Euro bogies. Meanwhile the border peple and cutoms were having a field day.

This process took about two and a half hours and eventually, everybody satisfied, we were ready to leave. All except me that is, because I still have no passport. Eventually these two hard faced women returned, almost threw the passport at me with nasty scowls, spun on their heels, and disappeared. At that point, the carriage erupted because somebody had got the better of them and was leaving Russia untouched and unsearched.

The train crawled from the shed between high security fences for a mile or so before crossing a river bridge and entering Poland. It was only another mile or so to the first Polish station, Terestopol or something, but every few yards on both sides of the track stood an armed Polish soldier amking sure that nobody jumped or threw anything from the train. Then it was the Poles turn to take advantage of the poor Russian. Not only were people searched, but carriages were rummaged thoroughly for hiding places and contraband. Here I was OK. British passport and entering Europe, no problem.

Departed on our way again. Train passing through towns and villages. The North European plain is a boring place and I can clearly see why the military consider it ideal tank country.

Sandwiches were slowly being devoured. Conductor kept bringing the tea. Fellow cabin mates kept offering vodka and fruit, and pork fat and smoked fish. Our main conversation was really a heated discussion. The older man was absolutely adamant that the Arctic convoys didn't happen, and refused to accept that my old Dad was on them.

Warsaw appeared in the middle of the Monday night. Nothing to see except the station again. We sat there for a couple of hours and left after two armed soldiers had taken residence in each carriage. WTF! Word had it that the Mafia had boarded the train and that the soldiers would see them off if they tried anything. Squeeky bum time.

Dawn came on the Tuesday morning and we entered Germany. Little fuss here. The customs knew damned well that the train had been well searched beforehand.

Arrived in Hannover at about 08.00 and bang on time. When I alighted from the train after how many hours in a closed non smoking carriage full of heavy smokers, I really thought that I was a kipper.

Next problem is that I need to purchase a ticket for London with only what I could remember of schoolboy German. Found the ticket office and was met by a smiley lady with perfect English. She gave me my ticket and full printed instructions on train times and changes etc. Well armed with these, I caught the train to Cologne, where I changed for Brussels. Perfect service all the way. Onto Eurostar, under the channel, and up to London through Kent. Arrived in Waterloo again bang on time. Only cursory glances from Customs, and grabbed a taxi for Victoria. Quickly nab a ticket for Worthing and run for the train almost leaving.

Pull into East Croydon, and wait, and wait, and wait some more. Eventually an announcement. "Connex wish to apologise for the delay. The guards door has fallen off".

WELCOME HOME RODDY!!!!

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Just reading your thread properly, I note that it was mentioned not knowing why Southern Railways / British railways chose to use Third rail electrification. The reason was that many of SR lines go through tunnels which are too small even for full size carriages, thats without an overhead pantograph to pick up the electricity. It was considered that maybe they could lower the floors of tunnels and or make the tunnels bigger but the cost was too much.

I have just spent most of the day launching and rigging a keelboat for the winters sailing the owner mentioned he too has received his poppy since I last saw him in March, somewhat after you.

I would love to visit the cemeteries of northern France and Libya where My grandfather lost many friends during ww2, he was evacuated from Dunkirk on May 29th 1940 which is the day I'm modelling my railway on. He survived the war

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