tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84911970680028939362024-03-10T02:45:49.330+00:00The Blog That Used to be StarcrossBoats, Beer and BusesJimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14502754753792780008noreply@blogger.comBlogger929125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8491197068002893936.post-58697547532788188082022-09-19T21:29:00.003+01:002022-09-19T21:30:53.663+01:00Milestones<p> <span style="font-family: verdana;">I took advantage of the lack of traffic on the main road up the Lune Valley from Lancaster today for a cycle ride to Kirkby Lonsdale and to take some photos of this set of milestones along the way that have been meticulously restored, although I know not by whom.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiusd65xQvXZARw98ZtsjCZ4A0_5nlK-U6vsJ4WZBChYbhvtgCG90iQKoBJRf6Pg8uR0sl-Nw4DjSOHxKxpcVIj24XRCQYb3amlzXIa6pELEBYR2JwEXDXOZlPEdOOToz4VsNJSQJDKWwGVe4YXVB01FbxTriShhNWQgwEc4dyk5hb4LkowVFAbrKoJqQ/s4608/P9190002.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiusd65xQvXZARw98ZtsjCZ4A0_5nlK-U6vsJ4WZBChYbhvtgCG90iQKoBJRf6Pg8uR0sl-Nw4DjSOHxKxpcVIj24XRCQYb3amlzXIa6pELEBYR2JwEXDXOZlPEdOOToz4VsNJSQJDKWwGVe4YXVB01FbxTriShhNWQgwEc4dyk5hb4LkowVFAbrKoJqQ/s320/P9190002.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimUBSIJ41ILvqKtaTXmVg0AV7aNKQWh8gbb38HdiRad_qUSP1n2VRFcIHrMI_7BFSI3bL-PPcQcZ-9CSDNMZohh68tF-vqe4SRRl_57czkEsExPu-lIptSdPzsgLqCd1ULd4mQQ-1LCK1naAoaV9rzSUyuxUSb93t6r2zBJItzMn5jxlLozqTBC4icYw/s4608/P9190001.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimUBSIJ41ILvqKtaTXmVg0AV7aNKQWh8gbb38HdiRad_qUSP1n2VRFcIHrMI_7BFSI3bL-PPcQcZ-9CSDNMZohh68tF-vqe4SRRl_57czkEsExPu-lIptSdPzsgLqCd1ULd4mQQ-1LCK1naAoaV9rzSUyuxUSb93t6r2zBJItzMn5jxlLozqTBC4icYw/s320/P9190001.JPG" width="240" /></a><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfQqVkToO6Ton8Yv1qlVg1LUNsb2uePClIr0cyGzzmf3xlrCipH1TpkxjRfoMXaf_NkaCHmn2L9Lt6F8JgihNe2pdUt2lEEbNZin6d4HsSZ3TuROgzo27E5khGwU-gQpNROPnOoGctIxGi5FhEvVKOUF3ZPtDvnwKiKC-nnTVGg_q41QjissDo32AMWA/s4608/P9190023.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfQqVkToO6Ton8Yv1qlVg1LUNsb2uePClIr0cyGzzmf3xlrCipH1TpkxjRfoMXaf_NkaCHmn2L9Lt6F8JgihNe2pdUt2lEEbNZin6d4HsSZ3TuROgzo27E5khGwU-gQpNROPnOoGctIxGi5FhEvVKOUF3ZPtDvnwKiKC-nnTVGg_q41QjissDo32AMWA/s320/P9190023.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPHs8pmzYlDgbnJSyPI5RW5-9RzCdsHLmh4xQQH1uB7p7VUeZvIwU6DxRg3_YNoR0qELmQfCS1aessPrxSjrRSUkrn9b1FUsa0v8jRSyJv9cBq85_4tgcDH3Uzm2wEj6SweZI8eZiW2J3d5myI31A3l5cOlqQkK9Vvf9wepzzpITd1OnZD7r5j4bcESw/s4608/P9190023.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPHs8pmzYlDgbnJSyPI5RW5-9RzCdsHLmh4xQQH1uB7p7VUeZvIwU6DxRg3_YNoR0qELmQfCS1aessPrxSjrRSUkrn9b1FUsa0v8jRSyJv9cBq85_4tgcDH3Uzm2wEj6SweZI8eZiW2J3d5myI31A3l5cOlqQkK9Vvf9wepzzpITd1OnZD7r5j4bcESw/s320/P9190023.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The Lancaster - Kirkby Lonsdale road, the A683, is also the site of another transport curiosity - the first ever white line to be painted in the centre of a British road! Here's a photo:</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRLux8P7v3vWWtjdktK0UQQRFEm6UQhy0_ZnN2tLLSmpMqPVsI3KaDbYTecUDZTa9LYFAbgA6eul4LI2ygnTM7x2yXRg_V6xC7Wvwiv33EHLJ0GfY7Vx92N-vf2sOFmIpDG6cSRrju_ynnobNbj7VBIcbW68iOmNJcO4eh9Jdd7vXG4UgrJHyKd_1Epg/s4608/P9190009.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRLux8P7v3vWWtjdktK0UQQRFEm6UQhy0_ZnN2tLLSmpMqPVsI3KaDbYTecUDZTa9LYFAbgA6eul4LI2ygnTM7x2yXRg_V6xC7Wvwiv33EHLJ0GfY7Vx92N-vf2sOFmIpDG6cSRrju_ynnobNbj7VBIcbW68iOmNJcO4eh9Jdd7vXG4UgrJHyKd_1Epg/w640-h480/P9190009.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">That's not the original line, obviously, but the story goes that about 100 years ago, in what were still the early days of motoring, the owners of a garage that stood on this site, adjacent the white house, were distressed at the number of head-on collisions and even more near misses between cars taking the bend in the middle of the road. </span><span style="font-family: verdana;">To encourage drivers to keep to the left on the bend they painted a white line down the centre of the road.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Rather than being thanked for their public-spirited actions, they were taken to court and prosecuted for causing criminal damage to the road and only later was the system adopted nationally.</span></div>Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14502754753792780008noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8491197068002893936.post-70594305442785370512022-05-31T18:38:00.000+01:002022-05-31T18:38:10.636+01:00Back on the Buses<p style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcJfwfNXWiAWlfRtIm3tJNO2Rpgz_65-SKHBv3ka9A0JZ_NFZsHcnuwtc-nstvEjjUFj1aaMeYE0s39H8xJ4-IRWHVHogxi88mTCwXmwsISx_V8bFcm9FwmW-z70Pdtqdl2HX1nUx8VmsiAHCRZX5o5TtjR7jOjpHsjbNRevuQXPpA2EvregNuHJ66Gg/s4608/Volvo%20B5LH%20-%20Enviro%20400MMC%2098%20seater%20at%20St.%20Ives.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcJfwfNXWiAWlfRtIm3tJNO2Rpgz_65-SKHBv3ka9A0JZ_NFZsHcnuwtc-nstvEjjUFj1aaMeYE0s39H8xJ4-IRWHVHogxi88mTCwXmwsISx_V8bFcm9FwmW-z70Pdtqdl2HX1nUx8VmsiAHCRZX5o5TtjR7jOjpHsjbNRevuQXPpA2EvregNuHJ66Gg/w640-h480/Volvo%20B5LH%20-%20Enviro%20400MMC%2098%20seater%20at%20St.%20Ives.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Back on the buses - Around the County Towns.</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> <span style="font-family: verdana;">Since selling Starcross, which I now realise was eight years ago (!), I've been spending more time pursuing my other interests, principally buses. Between 2015 and 2017 I undertook a bus tour <a href="http://aroundtheedgeofengland.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Around the Edge of England</a>, using my free bus pass and I followed that up in 2018 by beginning a similar exercise, this time visiting every English county and every county town, in what I called my "Around the County Towns" tour.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">In September 2019, having reached Huntingdonshire, I had reason to pause the exercise, fully expecting to be able to recommence in the Spring. We all know what happened next.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Buses and trains were recognised as a potential problem as far as the virus was concerned early-on and the government went into overdrive on its "avoid public transport at all costs" messaging. So effective was this that almost immediately bus use fell to 10% of pre-pandemic levels (train use fell to 5%). Even now, with all restrictions lifted and life pretty much back to normal for most people, the buses are still missing about 20% of the passengers they once had. With the last of the "emergency support package" funding due to run out in October, and service cuts expected to follow, I thought it was high time to get back on the buses and do my bit by resuming my journey.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Not all the issues that led to the original suspension of the project in 2019 have been resolved, so I had to start slowly and see how things went, but last week I was able to restart, visiting the Isle of Ely and Cambridgeshire on a two-day trip<a href="https://aroundcountytowns.blogspot.com/2022/05/the-journey-resumes-peterborough-to-ely.html" target="_blank"> "Around the County Towns"</a>. I have a separate blog for the trip and anyone interested can read all about it <a href="https://aroundcountytowns.blogspot.com/2022/05/the-journey-resumes-peterborough-to-ely.html" target="_blank">here.</a></span></p>Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14502754753792780008noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8491197068002893936.post-39434496185292580252021-10-27T18:11:00.001+01:002021-10-27T18:11:54.236+01:00The 50th Anniversary Trip - Days 7 & 8: Atherstone to Rugby Wharf<p><span style="font-family: arial;"> <b>Thursday 7th October 2021</b></span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">Day 7 Atherstone to Newbold</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">There is not a lot to say about today's boating. After we got away from Atherstone we settled down to enjoy the long, lock-free stretch of the Coventry Canal, passing a very run-down Hartshill yard shortly after setting off.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Ken was at the helm for the 180 degree turn at Hawkesbury Junction. He realised straight away that he had started his turn too late, but then - like many occasional steerers - failed to put any "welly" on, meaning that he had to have a few shunts to get round. He didn't actually hit anything - even the badly moored boat just above the stop lock - so I gave him a B+. The "watchers-on-the-bridge" may have thought differently!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">In 1971 we had found the time to go all the way down the arm into Coventry and back, which in those days was considered quite an adventure, but there was no enthusiasm for it today, so after I'd penned us through the stop lock that really was it for the day, with the only other feature of note being the footbridge across the cut at Brinklow, which was mildly amusing I suppose.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVWd6vgmfzS288qeN5-xaPLJQ3I-hl2pppxARitefH12T6VxmhPHdV6f7RxlcG2QAzCxiQkceq41TSACQzekV1KxGW-eVtd_zQ88vOTKQ_aDiMEXdYlxe9o24ipUFPR9-LxYqN3zdj9EIg/s2048/Grebe+at+Coventry+Basin.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1275" data-original-width="2048" height="398" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVWd6vgmfzS288qeN5-xaPLJQ3I-hl2pppxARitefH12T6VxmhPHdV6f7RxlcG2QAzCxiQkceq41TSACQzekV1KxGW-eVtd_zQ88vOTKQ_aDiMEXdYlxe9o24ipUFPR9-LxYqN3zdj9EIg/w640-h398/Grebe+at+Coventry+Basin.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: arial;">"Grebe" at Coventry Basin in 1971. It's changed a bit since then!</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFHwDeprgLPouekZqfec8PwT5SvzPqQ9YOndVlxqONtxkdCQwXxQf9xZz1ppfS0OewoAKRgEGfoPAM0RN4hvrjceDqqf7B55zZ0aBCblSjBTREZWgc9d1I3ufFgoN8jErhDSYVw-G4zV5A/s2048/PA070152.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFHwDeprgLPouekZqfec8PwT5SvzPqQ9YOndVlxqONtxkdCQwXxQf9xZz1ppfS0OewoAKRgEGfoPAM0RN4hvrjceDqqf7B55zZ0aBCblSjBTREZWgc9d1I3ufFgoN8jErhDSYVw-G4zV5A/w640-h480/PA070152.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: arial;">Ken opening the footbridge at Brinklow</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaB9Ug8AKIo_6VLIhMuWXVe_xUJJYjvIFEi4Egy0LqR3PyyoCjmfadvQImnicWvz2CeHE2i3G2Beq9LO1K_R_U3cAsGB-Fp8BNBgDpQX41QalHWkDxc5QKof16_CFAWsZH7Gqc9QgLb2Fx/s2048/PA070153.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaB9Ug8AKIo_6VLIhMuWXVe_xUJJYjvIFEi4Egy0LqR3PyyoCjmfadvQImnicWvz2CeHE2i3G2Beq9LO1K_R_U3cAsGB-Fp8BNBgDpQX41QalHWkDxc5QKof16_CFAWsZH7Gqc9QgLb2Fx/w640-h480/PA070153.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: arial;">and hurrying to catch up with boat afterwards!</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Wilow Wren had told us that the boat needed to be back at their base for 08.30 on Friday, but when we asked whether we could bring it back the night before, to save us a rushed start in the morning,we were told this wasn't possible. The obvious stopping place for the night was therefore Newbold, where we were pleased to see a mooring space outside the Barley Mow. It was only after we had struggled to tie up there and complained about the state of what we assumed was a visitor mooring that we realised we were on the well-hidden and badly signed water point! By now it was not far off dusk and as we would be away very early in the morning we decided to play the "ignorant hire boaters" card and stay where we were.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Like many pubs these days the Barlow Mow looks inviting from the outside...</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl0ZQk7lQHcKwjblSVYKL5XPoQhS8d_-_qdkWiPWLCYx0Zg2Ng4eTQX7Pu5HBOZLkjTqb6Fg7PMYW2pRN055tbfO9LTBZ8EM5NpeKmdhmfD9-GBk4LL8g5W70PtRRFzrkSof-Q_hTPHkci/s2048/20211007_202959.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><i><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl0ZQk7lQHcKwjblSVYKL5XPoQhS8d_-_qdkWiPWLCYx0Zg2Ng4eTQX7Pu5HBOZLkjTqb6Fg7PMYW2pRN055tbfO9LTBZ8EM5NpeKmdhmfD9-GBk4LL8g5W70PtRRFzrkSof-Q_hTPHkci/w640-h480/20211007_202959.jpg" width="640" /></span></i></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: arial;">The Barley Mow</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;">...but inside it has, unfortunately, been mucked about with in ways that have left it with an incoherent and rather unfriendly, un-publike layout. In fairness though, the food was good and I'm told the beer got better as the evening wore on, although I was back on the boat by then.</span><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><b><span style="font-family: arial;">Friday, 8th October 2021</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: arial;">Day 8 Newbold to Rugby Wharf</span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></b></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">We'd assumed that Willow Wren had asked us to be back by 08.30, an hour earlier than stated in the brochure, in order to stagger arrivals and prevent mixing on the wharf due to Covid. But no, it seemed that everyone had been given the same arrival time, resulting in a convoy of boats approaching the arm on which the base is situated at the same time. A boat coming from the south had to wind before it could enter the arm (we'd had to do the opposite manoeuvre when leaving a week ago) and then it was our turn to follow it almost back to the wharf where we'd all been asked to wind again before reversing onto the wharf itself. By the time we had winded, there was a third boat waiting its turn.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">The company were taking Covid precautions very seriously and we were asked to vacate the boat as soon as we had tied up, irrespective of any last-minute cleaning and tidying up and the crew were asked to wait in a designated spot whilst Mark and I, as the "designated crew members", completed the hand-back formalities.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">With those done we all set off to walk to the station where Pete, Clive and I boarded a northbound train to take us to Manchester, Lancaster and Cambridge (via Nuneaton) respectively; Ken and Mark headed westwards to Wolverhampton and Oxford, leaving Spike to make a lonelier journey back to Slough.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><p><b><span style="font-family: arial;">Hire Boating v. Ownership</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Having owned a boat for ten years, this was the first hire-boating I'd done for over twenty. It does have certain advantages:</span></p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-family: arial;">Cost. The week, including the daytime food kitty, cost us £175 each. Boat owners will recognise that sum as small change when it comes to boating.</span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;">Lack of worry. The broken alternator - and anything else that might have gone wrong - was fixed by a simple phone call to the boatyard. A more serious failure would presumably have resulted in a replacement boat and/or a refund.</span></li></ul><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">But also some disadvantages:</span></p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-family: arial;">When hiring you commit yourself to a route and a timetable which, especially if you do a "ring", can be difficult to change. We had a couple of days when the weather was such that on Starcross I would have declared a "cabin day" and not bothered untying.</span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;">As part of a crew, especially an all-male crew, there is an expectation that every night will be spent in the pub! Much as I like pubs that wasn't the way things were on Starcross (believe it or not).</span></li></ul><div><span style="font-family: arial;">So would I do it again? Well, not for a while and then perhaps with a smaller and more select crew and definitely, although I'm now showing my age, on a less-ambitious route!</span></div><p></p></div>Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14502754753792780008noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8491197068002893936.post-16812615621251694332021-10-24T16:48:00.002+01:002021-10-24T16:53:54.464+01:00The 50th Anniversary Trip - Day 6: Dog & Doublet to Atherstone<p><b> <span style="font-family: arial;">Wednesday, 6th October 2021</span></b></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjptzgB-6ADOFSgwhqoed9L5GEuz1PZ1iF0Ibi7nAfhQhkDXe8XvY-aFIY1J8wNik0xxw1Dp5dIvziygknP2poGbi6zulJ55w-IgxdfF28eQVynbAay_NsA9_7KpKCYUJ7SLtwl-KAj4XyS/s2048/20211006_073243.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjptzgB-6ADOFSgwhqoed9L5GEuz1PZ1iF0Ibi7nAfhQhkDXe8XvY-aFIY1J8wNik0xxw1Dp5dIvziygknP2poGbi6zulJ55w-IgxdfF28eQVynbAay_NsA9_7KpKCYUJ7SLtwl-KAj4XyS/w640-h480/20211006_073243.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: arial;">Sunrise at the Dog & Doublet moorings</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The early risers amongst the crew were rewarded by a spectacular sunrise as they prepared to untie and set off on another long day's run, with Atherstone as the target for the night.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Bloody Hire Boaters </b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">With seven of us onboard, some of whom had by now worked out how to use the shower, the first task was to take on water and this could be accomplished at Fazeley Junction. The water point here is not ideally suited for boats coming from the south as it involves making the right turn on to the Coventry Canal and then reversing a boat length or two to reach it. I had almost completed the turn and glanced behind before preparing to reverse when I saw a boat coming up behind. I pointed and shouted that I was headed for the water point, but the steerer kept coming, choosing to come between me and the towpath on my inside. By the time I'd got the bow out of his way and he'd passed without a collision (or a word of thanks!) I was in a hopeless position for the water point, resulting in much manoeuvring with the engine and the shaft to get to it.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Whilst we were filling the tank a couple off a boat on the moorings came along and in response to my greeting, the lady said "I won't tell you what my husband has just said about typical hire boaters!" As I doubt that they had seen the incident in its entirety it just goes to show that you shouldn't pass judgement without knowing the full story.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">As Glascote Bottom Lock <i> </i>I was reminded how much the cut has changed in the last fifty years, and how much less interesting it has become. O</span><span style="font-family: arial;">n the 1973 boat trip my partner Hilary, who was on Willow Wren's "Guillemot", took this photo of Union Canal Carriers' "Bexhill", on which I was captain, leaving the lock.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGW3JmqwW57tHsLGDgPIMCA-LutAwu_ZEeRvNVv6XdCdED03l1OSElV4LHrCalr3JuKB475VquLYxaxbTId6jHHY_I0dTr_Q11ICWzVcjWRTawcso-Ds6EEpk7EznpmisSKzOEbEOsDUIE/s1858/Glascote+Bottom+lock+%2528cropped%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1160" data-original-width="1858" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGW3JmqwW57tHsLGDgPIMCA-LutAwu_ZEeRvNVv6XdCdED03l1OSElV4LHrCalr3JuKB475VquLYxaxbTId6jHHY_I0dTr_Q11ICWzVcjWRTawcso-Ds6EEpk7EznpmisSKzOEbEOsDUIE/w640-h400/Glascote+Bottom+lock+%2528cropped%2529.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: arial;">Glascote Bottom Lock 1973</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />I wasn't really sure it was the same place when I took the 2021 photo, but the unusual roof line of the lock cottage is a giveaway...</span><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtkHe49voGG2stXT_sAVabMVXVWtwsBCxh9ZR3Q2pydHo0sBIjcyk3EHTfMEotvPOQweFTpr2LndPqmBsFOvF68IsI8-vThVF3rE-eV3xmmDov-iAX2nJe8za4JisrhWLRWMdLS_TMK4wP/s2048/PA060144.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtkHe49voGG2stXT_sAVabMVXVWtwsBCxh9ZR3Q2pydHo0sBIjcyk3EHTfMEotvPOQweFTpr2LndPqmBsFOvF68IsI8-vThVF3rE-eV3xmmDov-iAX2nJe8za4JisrhWLRWMdLS_TMK4wP/w640-h480/PA060144.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: arial;">and again, in 2021</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-family: arial;">After that it was a pleasant, but uneventful, day on the Coventry Canal. Jeanette, who had been staying in holiday accommodation in Kenilworth whilst her husband Hugh was on the boat, joined us for the afternoon near Polesworth, having had some difficulty in parking her car in Atherstone due to road closures for a cycle race before walking back down the towpath to meet us.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Bloody Hire Boaters (again)</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">As we started up the Atherstone flight there was a minor incident with another boat at lock 6, which no doubt led its crew to roll their eyes and say "bloody hire-boaters" (although if they did they didn't let us see it).</span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe81YcFx0Er3Pp_UCsjaQVLqeHQWGAyUA_92E2HFvcFQAGzpZ_sNk49mUQ1C4otsaDTQiMU_AgsuxS-cC7HKmP6rxLc6mmSDQlImyYCBX_ZDUquKZq9TsBQVI2_5ezdnupync_I8BPSdXm/s2048/PA060147.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe81YcFx0Er3Pp_UCsjaQVLqeHQWGAyUA_92E2HFvcFQAGzpZ_sNk49mUQ1C4otsaDTQiMU_AgsuxS-cC7HKmP6rxLc6mmSDQlImyYCBX_ZDUquKZq9TsBQVI2_5ezdnupync_I8BPSdXm/w640-h480/PA060147.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: arial;">Ken and Jeanette waiting for lock 6</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />Ken was holding Grebe perfectly in position waiting for the lock to empty. I suppose it might have been a clue if he had realised that two of the people leaning on the lock gates weren't part of our crew, but neither they nor Mark, who was one of us ,seems to have mentioned that there was a boat descending in the lock and which would need to come out before we could go in! As a result, Ken's expert handling was all in vain...</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZdgRRYlmvCBBcHwlxpGCXHG6K_USjwLXxe2i93DYHAAywN1CFwki7a0wALV217t5CtyxNSvFx8S_2tTqMQZX_qEXVvH-fjFLNLlycKbmlj-DuBTN1C9wcq8tDTZEPvJd1q4TrCtpNTC-k/s2048/PA060149.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZdgRRYlmvCBBcHwlxpGCXHG6K_USjwLXxe2i93DYHAAywN1CFwki7a0wALV217t5CtyxNSvFx8S_2tTqMQZX_qEXVvH-fjFLNLlycKbmlj-DuBTN1C9wcq8tDTZEPvJd1q4TrCtpNTC-k/w640-h480/PA060149.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: arial;">Why didn't anyone tell me?</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-family: arial;">It wasn't as serious as the incident in 1973 when we arrived at the bottom of the flight when it was already dark, but decided to go up anyway. Approaching the top we were stopped by an irate lock-keeper who told us in no uncertain terms that we shouldn't have done it and that he would now have to walk back down the flight to check that all was in order after our passage. I did manage to deflect some of his ire by telling him that there was another boat - our companions on Guillemot - behind us in the hope that he would reserve some of his anger for them!</span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">Back in 2021 there was then a debate about where we should stop for the night. The crew of a downhill boat had told us that the moorings above the top lock were choc-a-bloc. The alternative was to tie up lower down the flight, near the A5, although this would mean a much longer walk into the town that evening. Pete went ahead to check the situation at the top, but in the meantime the rest of us decided that we would press on to the top anyway as the information we'd had from the other boat would be over an hour out of date and, rather optimistically, some boats may have moved on. Hugh was also leaving us at Atherstone and it would have been a long way for him to walk with his luggage, even if Jeanette could remember where she had been forced to abandon her car due to the cycle race.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">The moorings above the lock were indeed full, but by asking nicely, Mark persuaded canal trader Kay on "Pea Green" to move up to create a space long enough for Grebe just beyond the bridge and opposite the atmospheric remains of what was once Atherstone's largest hat factory.</span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdnpxreapwkQt-JitKYV033_HyIf4A53064G1GEdi78QfoU_2mY45czPIKPzPKYMeZZr8JfzVYGYTFyi4urnvvyzmolyOjA_BFW3WOSoOIea9TgzaT_QDUmCgq1GMp4i3WrRSviIHv-Wrk/s2048/PA060150.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdnpxreapwkQt-JitKYV033_HyIf4A53064G1GEdi78QfoU_2mY45czPIKPzPKYMeZZr8JfzVYGYTFyi4urnvvyzmolyOjA_BFW3WOSoOIea9TgzaT_QDUmCgq1GMp4i3WrRSviIHv-Wrk/w640-h480/PA060150.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: arial;">Wilson & Stafford's Britannia Hat Works</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-family: arial;">Thank you, Kay, and in return here is a link to your website: <a href="https://kayscanalcraftyarts.co.uk/" target="_blank">Kay's Canal Crafty Arts.</a><br /></span><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><div><br /></div></div></div></div>Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14502754753792780008noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8491197068002893936.post-56278595210095961582021-10-22T12:32:00.002+01:002021-10-22T12:44:36.816+01:00The 50th Anniversary Trip - Day 5: Gas Street to the Dog & Doublet<p><b><span style="font-family: arial;"> Tuesday, 5th October 2021</span></b></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqCUTWovVDQcxvOuxtW3KQOkEcWrGK6bxJeFdJY-enFSeZOhYgmDtoWBtTP6S7KmTKlTKrBwvkbnHYeWi0zhV19XxNCpq5KYqMtnbNNlNyg9cmGuCxh15jUWDPP83UgYJKe67WLeSEYOTm/s2048/PA050136.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqCUTWovVDQcxvOuxtW3KQOkEcWrGK6bxJeFdJY-enFSeZOhYgmDtoWBtTP6S7KmTKlTKrBwvkbnHYeWi0zhV19XxNCpq5KYqMtnbNNlNyg9cmGuCxh15jUWDPP83UgYJKe67WLeSEYOTm/w640-h480/PA050136.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: arial;">The road ahead from Gas Street and a threatening sky.</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />Spike was up and about early this morning, managing to catch the cleaners at work in the Tap & Spile and retrieving his waterproof left there last night. As Hugh had also managed to find his missing wallet we were good to go shortly before 09.00. Mark was on the tiller at Old Turn for the slightly awkward turn towards Farmer's Bridge locks, again managing not to actually hit but needing a bit of shunting, so he got A for technical ability but only a B for style.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">We were met at the top lock by a volunteer lockie, who asked us to tie up as we would be waiting a while for the flight to be re-filled after having been drained by persons unknown overnight. The delay turned out to be shorter than promised and we were away after about thirty minutes. Despite us being mob-handed as far as crew was concerned the lockie attached himself to us for the journey down, when I thought he would have been better employed helping the couple ahead of us, who had just bought their boat and were still getting used to it.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">At one of the more awkward lock entries in the middle of the flight, where the lock chambers are close together but slightly offset,I saw him using a foot to push our bow away from the lock wall. When I jokingly asked him whether he had done a risk assessment on that manoeuvre I was told in no uncertain terms that he was a "retired health and safety professional" and knew what he was doing, thank you very much.</span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWcFsW4CS18p_nQuy3GdIt87GZucmTWHMq1DR8je2LSgwnyYwU7XmGYz28eNhPyOD-y9WzsJj3Ej9Px7KLLOPkhv3LLyBu72Qpg1FIdaWksj2tGTU7xzBf8mLfwtM43ZZnRBc-xff2T1jf/s2048/PA050138.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWcFsW4CS18p_nQuy3GdIt87GZucmTWHMq1DR8je2LSgwnyYwU7XmGYz28eNhPyOD-y9WzsJj3Ej9Px7KLLOPkhv3LLyBu72Qpg1FIdaWksj2tGTU7xzBf8mLfwtM43ZZnRBc-xff2T1jf/w640-h480/PA050138.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: arial;">Graffiti everywhere in Brum</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /> The canals in Birmingham, as with most urban areas, have always been plagued with graffiti, but the situation seems to have got much worse since I was last there, with almost a continuous tide stretching from Farmers Bridge to the edge of the urban area. Some see it as "street art", but to me it's just boring scribbling.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The locky's beat only extended to the Farmer's Bridge locks and no assistance was on offer for the following Aston flight. I went on ahead to set the locks for the couple in the boat in front and met this ex-working boat coming up, amidst yet more scribbles.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNz2P1dBSGkvBN_bko4Mj55vp_KqcOlWjFabKexrmFHlLIu0nUeo59IFiDVW5m8VaE55t1MwxDQfIs8xoNphua9fG2lM_3hok9pZyegWDwxiC5NnEpfG-n136i97Uhu8ubJuU8jf-RtF7n/s2048/PA050142.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNz2P1dBSGkvBN_bko4Mj55vp_KqcOlWjFabKexrmFHlLIu0nUeo59IFiDVW5m8VaE55t1MwxDQfIs8xoNphua9fG2lM_3hok9pZyegWDwxiC5NnEpfG-n136i97Uhu8ubJuU8jf-RtF7n/w640-h480/PA050142.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><h4 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Put that light out!</span></h4><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I took over the steering as we approached Salford Junction and quickly noticed that the ignition light was glowing bright red, something that previous steerers had either not noticed or chosen not to comment on! The previous trick of revving the engine failed to extinguish it and a glance at the gauges showed that the domestic batteries were not being charged.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">A phone call to Willow Wren quickly followed (one of the advantages of being a hirer is that things like this are someone else's problem) and after dutifully trying revving the engine again they agreed to send an engineer out. The person concerned had just left for another call out, so we agreed that he would meet us at the Dog & Doublet, which was where we intended to stop for the night.</span></p><h4 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Locky with a grudge?</span></h4><p><span style="font-family: arial;">We had a problem at the second of the Curdworth locks when having emptied the chamber we couldn't fully open the gate to get Grebe out. When raking and poking about with the shaft failed to find any obvious obstruction we re-filled the chamber and emptied it again, although we had to do it twice before the gate would open all the way. This meant that the boat we had been following down Farmer's Bridge, but which having stopped for lunch was now following us, caught us up. They said they were surprised to see us as the locky at Farmer's Bridge had told them we would be stopping at Minworth and had suggested that they did too. That locky had asked us where we intended to stop and having been told the Dog & Doublet, had advised us very strongly against it, saying that after a change of landlord it had gone downhill fast and was now a "very rough" place and to be avoided! He had indeed "advised" us that the pub at Minworth has a much better bet.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I'm always wary of the advice of strangers when it comes to pubs and we had decided to ignore it in this case. In the event those who went to the Dog & Doublet pronounced it excellent, having received a warm welcome from the landlady and enjoyed excellent beer and food, after which they felt compelled to tell her of the warning we had received and where it came from.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I say, "those who went to the pub" because when the engineer arrived he diagnosed a failed alternator and consequently fitted a new one. By the time he'd finished it was after seven o' clock and he advised us to run the engine for at least a couple of hours given that it had not been charging the batteries all day. As I was still in recovery mode from the "cold from hell" I offered to stay with the boat when the rest went to the pub and as they apparently enjoyed some tasty Thai cuisine I also enjoyed one of the emergency tins of Irish Stew accompanied by some instant mash which was on board for emergency use and was just the sort of comfort food my condition required!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The other item of interest at Curdworth was crossing the line of the HS2 railway, on which construction has started. The following image of HS2 is widely used by the media when reporting on the project</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx8rYakfCzRYv6xUawc54482In-fWWAFrZLGdhMux4NkouOB12849L73OEDMLmFn-B2V0Oh8IDqzbGRtmC4e74VO-asirkgMi9gle_FG9d-kJpk9tg92j1qpkHkcLvCbw0Zib5rTLDwvRl/s2048/RAIL-HS2-08113147-scaled.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1244" data-original-width="2048" height="388" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx8rYakfCzRYv6xUawc54482In-fWWAFrZLGdhMux4NkouOB12849L73OEDMLmFn-B2V0Oh8IDqzbGRtmC4e74VO-asirkgMi9gle_FG9d-kJpk9tg92j1qpkHkcLvCbw0Zib5rTLDwvRl/w640-h388/RAIL-HS2-08113147-scaled.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">I'd always suspected this was meant to be at Curdworth locks and I think the following image, albeit taken from a different angle and with evidence of the work site on the right, confirms it.</span><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_PFSo92zixXdRes1_2dOv5rVMa66ZMscM_5pGYEKYPhi2xrMWUQsDQUiSa4o0shUQFt7d4qPGoTcKSToSIrxXgoIZ-wIe4DoE0dy5B1KRpo_ShN7s35OlBmypCtLaT3dGnA5gswMLM0XX/s2048/20211005_160707%255B6954%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_PFSo92zixXdRes1_2dOv5rVMa66ZMscM_5pGYEKYPhi2xrMWUQsDQUiSa4o0shUQFt7d4qPGoTcKSToSIrxXgoIZ-wIe4DoE0dy5B1KRpo_ShN7s35OlBmypCtLaT3dGnA5gswMLM0XX/w640-h480/20211005_160707%255B6954%255D.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><p></p>Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14502754753792780008noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8491197068002893936.post-68750300654789693812021-10-19T16:00:00.149+01:002021-10-19T16:00:00.231+01:00The 50th Anniversary Trip - Day 4: Lapworth to Gas Street<p><b> Monday, 4th October 2021</b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Most hire-boat trips are necessarily relentless affairs and a one-week transit of the Warwickshire Ring is no exception, so we were due an early start from Lapworth. Despite all the crew having been hire-boating for many years it still surprised me that detailed knowledge of the canal system could be a little lacking at times. Admittedly, the geography and history of the junction at Lapworth is complicated and bound up in canal company politics, but I was a little surprised when Pete announced that he had set lock 21 ready for the off, whereas our obvious route would be via lock 20. The following illustration might explain.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR2VntUM89vLBlRVvSzIrOY9_WmUJIQELaHoz2SjOr8D-AN1Nia2tTbEeqwFj8XUhwM1WrCucF1-SEJoupsIka2bljBlgI1OFTN2Z49O_Bi52RZ2e5pbbUuMWk8wwcY8E9F91Km5CfoKBK/s762/Lapworth+link.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="762" data-original-width="722" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR2VntUM89vLBlRVvSzIrOY9_WmUJIQELaHoz2SjOr8D-AN1Nia2tTbEeqwFj8XUhwM1WrCucF1-SEJoupsIka2bljBlgI1OFTN2Z49O_Bi52RZ2e5pbbUuMWk8wwcY8E9F91Km5CfoKBK/w606-h640/Lapworth+link.jpg" width="606" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: arial;">Lapworth, as explained by the Canal & Rivers Trust. Which way would you go?<br /><br /></span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;">Having got underway, the rest of the ascent of the Lapworth flight was uneventful and, with a large crew, very easy. Pete was keen to replace the missing washer on the hosepipe connector so he persuaded us to call in at the Earlswood Motor Yacht Club, where not entirely to my surprise they announced that they did not have such a thing and had no idea where one might be obtained! Perhaps if we had been on a "motor yacht" rather than a hire boat things might have been different? </span><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">There then followed the straightforward passage of the northern Stratford Canal, interrupted only briefly by the electrified lift bridge at Shirley, where we suffered a slight delay when the crew member sent ahead to open it wandered off on the wrong side of the cut to find the control box! There was also a slight contretemps between the steerer (me) and one of the crew who insisted that we had to tie up here to wait for the bridge, because the notice said so!</span></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjds_vZUvxjele3cGFH3iUfaNvPRKEeI_zjvJicW1oyUdmNPUYHxzX_44fEL1M-iTISjq_IZZyBMGjHbUUdBWqaDURAY07phhVkBCzh0oEEeenEUPtPA0cru1HMxJn0zXw5TtzLmNHf-UZB/s2048/PA040134.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjds_vZUvxjele3cGFH3iUfaNvPRKEeI_zjvJicW1oyUdmNPUYHxzX_44fEL1M-iTISjq_IZZyBMGjHbUUdBWqaDURAY07phhVkBCzh0oEEeenEUPtPA0cru1HMxJn0zXw5TtzLmNHf-UZB/w640-h480/PA040134.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Now where's he gone?</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><span style="font-family: arial;">After a fine sunny day yesterday, the rain returned in the afternoon, but despite it being particularly heavy at the time we stopped at Yardley Wood for water, on the basis that we had only taken on half a tank at the Cape the previous day.</span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFX5a9bJN9ZGEB6Hd5eYk5wr_QhHKhiq35dXkLQ_hnNZE5VbiUqrbyAgEhcgsmJXVu1BP1hrBELZ-d4xGyWMHr-7YwXPmDiIievpeaz0kXU9p0yLjQ9xJXWYAI7kabPu7DfW9PqpUygisx/s2048/20211004_141737.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFX5a9bJN9ZGEB6Hd5eYk5wr_QhHKhiq35dXkLQ_hnNZE5VbiUqrbyAgEhcgsmJXVu1BP1hrBELZ-d4xGyWMHr-7YwXPmDiIievpeaz0kXU9p0yLjQ9xJXWYAI7kabPu7DfW9PqpUygisx/w640-h480/20211004_141737.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: arial;">Taking water at Yardley Wood</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-family: arial;">The connector was still leaking badly, but somehow we didn't feel the need to worry about getting the towpath wet. </span><span style="font-family: arial;">With the tank now refilled I took over the steering again and noticed that the ignition light didn't go off immediately we got underway, which I thought strange. However, a few revs on the engine quickly extinguished it and I thought no more about it.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">Mark had bagged the steering for the awkward turn onto the Worcester & Birmingham Canal at King's Norton, which is much tighter than it initially looks and quickly leaves you with very few options if you misjudge it. Like many, he started the turn too soon and then failed to give it enough welly, but he did get round and under the bridge with only a few shunts and without hitting anything, so I gave him a B+, upgraded to A - on appeal!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><h4 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Lost Property Aplenty</span></h4><div><span style="font-family: arial;">After an initial attempt to tie up opposite the Mailbox in central Brum was abandoned due to the downdraught from the surrounding buildings blowing the boat away from the bank we headed around Salvage Turn and tied up near the Tap & Spile, where we went for an evening meal. The food was good, but the beer range was a bit restrictive for our party - and very similar to that in the previous two night's pubs - so I offered to lead us to the Wellington on Bennetts Hill, which has more than a dozen beers to choose from, and to which the quickest way was through the Convention Centre and Symphony Hall complex.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">After we were settled in the Wellington, Spike began agitating for a return to the Tap & Spile, on the grounds that he had left his waterproof jacket there. This was rejected on the grounds that it was now raining heavily! Unfortunately for Spike it was still raining heavily at closing time, even more so as by now, with the route through the Convention Centre being closed, we had to follow the tram tracks from Victoria Square to Broad Street. This went well until we reached Paradise Circus where the pavement stops and "No Pedestrians" signs appear as the slip road from the Inner Ring Road crosses the tracks. Fortunately traffic was light, so we carried on walking until, eventually, we were able to get off the road - and the tram tracks - and back to Gas Street. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">The Tap & Spile was closed and locked-up for night, so no hope of retrieving Spike's coat and when we got back on board, Hugh announced he had lost his wallet - probably in the Wellington! No one was in the mood for another wet walk and a phone call to the pub elicited the advice that they were too busy to look for it, but would do so in the morning! Hugh then announced that he had now found his wallet - in a pocket of his new coat that he didn't know existed!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><p><br /></p></div></div>Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14502754753792780008noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8491197068002893936.post-19754894269511058812021-10-18T10:59:00.001+01:002021-10-18T10:59:13.411+01:00The 50th Anniversary Trip - Day 3: Cape to Lapworth<p><b> S<span style="font-family: arial;">unday, 3rd October 2020</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Mark's timetable didn't require an early start this morning as we weren't due at the bottom of Hatton locks until 09.42, where we were due to pick up two visitors for the day, his daughter Beth and her boyfriend Ben, who were arriving on a train due at Warwick Parkway at 09.38 and who brought down the average age of the crew considerably.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">We used the time to take water above the second of the Cape locks, where we discovered that the pipe supplied with the boat was missing a vital washer in the connector, which resulted in almost as much water ending up on the towpath as in the tank. When the amount of water on the path became embarrassingly large we gave up, although the tank was far from full, and set off.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Partly because of this we arrived slightly early at the locks, but as there was a single boat waiting to enter we paired up with them and carried on, with Beth and Ben joining us a couple of locks farther up the flight.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The crew on "Georgina", a hire boat from Kate Boats at Warwick were regular hirers and heading for Stratford, As the locks at the bottom of the flight are well-spaced, we travelled singly between them with Georgina leading the way. The steerer apologised for not always being able to keep his boat neatly alongside the lock wall and giving me space to enter cleanly. I told him not to worry, but suggested he might like to follow my advice, which was "Always let the other boat go first!"</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">After that, I had no option but to go on ahead and didn't really do much better than him!</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwJYm681vVSTju3quyRXol4_S_X85PAbxWjhyphenhyphenWBvRixKxz7i_bNMieDZDERDcopvGaatdwlSmCP0ch-9ssCqpcYy6z2su9ZLO9Coq9515TIwmjFKKhCunmUC03BsUgzM3bgO2S0lpMrTiK/s2048/PA030121.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1484" data-original-width="2048" height="464" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwJYm681vVSTju3quyRXol4_S_X85PAbxWjhyphenhyphenWBvRixKxz7i_bNMieDZDERDcopvGaatdwlSmCP0ch-9ssCqpcYy6z2su9ZLO9Coq9515TIwmjFKKhCunmUC03BsUgzM3bgO2S0lpMrTiK/w640-h464/PA030121.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>Two single-handers on the Hatton flight</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><p><span style="font-family: arial;">As we approached the thick of the flight, where the locks are close together, I handed over the steering and set off to to a bit of lock work. It seemed as though we were being held up by the pair of boats in front of us soI set off to assist But when I got to them I realised that they in turn were being delayed by two single-handers who had the locks against them, so my help was of more use there.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Once I was able to set the locks ahead and then return to help them through the lock below we got on much better. It would have helped even more if they had breasted up and entered each lock side-by-side as a lot of time was being lost by manoeuvring, but they were both experienced boaters and it wasn't my place to say anything. Nevertheless we were now keeping well ahead of the following boats and I even had time to raise a bottom paddle for them.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">What with running ahead to set each lock and then doubling back I was quite exhausted by the time we reached the top and was looking forward to a brew and a cake at the cafe, only to realise that I had left all means of payment back on the boat!</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN0Pb3GwqqqtEhP7rpoOYq9VT4colSzvBJdMuSktS4rwhTEeffWfOINIScTV00Sd8_82J5m5x-x5Lt3CTRrF4i57-PSZdBCu5-A4R5C6x7VtYqZSTliW5RGUFzGpzmwNAKx4R0_VDirFy6/s2048/PA030128.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><i><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN0Pb3GwqqqtEhP7rpoOYq9VT4colSzvBJdMuSktS4rwhTEeffWfOINIScTV00Sd8_82J5m5x-x5Lt3CTRrF4i57-PSZdBCu5-A4R5C6x7VtYqZSTliW5RGUFzGpzmwNAKx4R0_VDirFy6/w640-h480/PA030128.JPG" width="640" /></i></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>Georgina and Grebe showing how it should be done</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />When Georgina and Grebe arrived I was pleased to see that the two steerers were working together and showing how it should be done, entering the ,locks side-by-side.<br /></span><p><span style="font-family: arial;">After Hatton I spent most of the afternoon recovering in the front well watching the world go by until we reached Lapworth, tying-up on the Lapworth Link moorings as close as possible to the railway bridge, where Beth and Ben left us to catch a train back to London from Lapworth station.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiFVrVNp78DC09ZJuUJeKKNF0zB_m1XCWsHj-YKKkEqMMD3xPSg0ExguRYFBSbOV_yFifI2k2_aGboxW84uflXJEC4azYb4aLAeIYnhBWUhV-yoxtwcDdhx4oXRHS2l9DJmDHjmp_tv9iW/s2048/PA030130.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiFVrVNp78DC09ZJuUJeKKNF0zB_m1XCWsHj-YKKkEqMMD3xPSg0ExguRYFBSbOV_yFifI2k2_aGboxW84uflXJEC4azYb4aLAeIYnhBWUhV-yoxtwcDdhx4oXRHS2l9DJmDHjmp_tv9iW/w640-h480/PA030130.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>Ideal mooring for railway enthusiasts at Lapworth,</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />After the experience at the Cape of Good Hope, we'd taken the precaution of booking a table in the Navigation and I was pleased to see that albeit with a bit of redecoration, it was still very much as I remembered it from the day in 2004 when I "sealed the deal" to buy Starcross from its previous owner over a pint there. It wasn't really much different from New Years Eve in 1973 when they happily accommodated <b>three </b>boat loads of scruffy students that descended on them without warning. They even sell "M&B Brew XI", which was suitably nostalgic for an anniversary trip as in 1971 half the pubs in the midlands sold it (the other half sold Ansells Bitter), although after an obligatory pint we switched to something rather better, in my case Taylor's Landlord.<br /></span><p><br /></p>Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14502754753792780008noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8491197068002893936.post-52631862648915937942021-10-16T18:00:00.001+01:002021-10-16T18:00:00.207+01:00The 50th Anniversary Trip - Day 2<p><b><span style="font-family: arial;"> Saturday, 2nd October 2021</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Before continuing with the account of the trip, it's time to introduce the crew.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHiWrKpeO1kl6f4NbjIqKCsGx5VFUV8lcTtIVsfnBQYN2TP22HdSNs3_z34wv01dkbksJ8LzqoEZYO7wE4Nm6JhVkhOl8vdWJMKOtGFHqNWq0sbgGOYLiKydWwp5OcY3R-RKW-F3s-GrG5/s1600/IMG-20211005-WA0000.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHiWrKpeO1kl6f4NbjIqKCsGx5VFUV8lcTtIVsfnBQYN2TP22HdSNs3_z34wv01dkbksJ8LzqoEZYO7wE4Nm6JhVkhOl8vdWJMKOtGFHqNWq0sbgGOYLiKydWwp5OcY3R-RKW-F3s-GrG5/w640-h480/IMG-20211005-WA0000.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Here they are, waiting for their meal in the Navigation at Lapworth.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Clockwise from the left: Mark (the organiser), Pete, Clive, me, Hugh, Ken and Spike. Missing is Duncan, who had to pull out at the last minute due to illness. Hugh, Duncan and I had been on the 1971 trip. Mark, Clive and Ken joined in in the early 70s, whereas Pete and Spike are of a later generation of crews.</span></p><h4 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Day Two</span></h4><p><span style="font-family: arial;">On taking over the boat yesterday, we had assumed that the heating was on and working, although by the time we stopped for the night it was obvious that it wasn't. As it was time to go to the pub, we decided to leave it until the morning to do something about it. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">It was obvious that the boiler wasn't lit, but getting it to light was another matter. The handbook wasn't much help, as the section on the heating system appeared to have been written for a different boat. The engineer showing us over the boat had only made cursory reference to it as well. After much head-scratching and discussion it turned out to be a two-man job, with Pete lying flat out on the floor, which was the only way to see what the pilot light was doing, whilst I bent over him to press the ignition and spark buttons until it fired up. Job done...</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">...or so we thought, until a few hours later we had to admit that the boat hadn't actually got any warmer! After fiddling with the radiator thermostats and various levers in the boiler compartment failed to achieve a result someone realised that it was all very well having a tank of hot water, but it wouldn't find its way into the radiators of its own accord. Somewhere, there must be a pump! It took a while, but eventually we found an unmarked switch, tucked away on the rear wall of the boiler compartment which, when turned on, led swiftly to a warm boat. It's just a shame no one at Willow Wren thought to mention it or include it in the instruction manual!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I have to admit that I don't remember a lot about the rest of day two. Earlier in the week I'd developed a sore throat and what appeared to be the start of a cold. I'd had a negative Covid test, so I knew it wasn't that, but now it was rapidly getting worse and as the weather had also taken a turn for the worse, I spent much of the day in the cabin with what became the cold from Hell.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I do remember Ken joining us at Stockton Brook, having made his way over from Wolverhampton by bus and train and arriving just a few minutes before the boat. This wasn't as lucky as it sounds. Being an ex-railwayman, Mark had devised a timetable for the trip, with timings down to the last minute. It said we were due at Stockton Brook at 10.24, so that was what Ken was successfully aiming for on a bus that arrived at 10.14.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUm4CkaBbeheMEUmfOuOEYk5b3j980VvZvenvrDcE05iMzbgn32Gh3Ie2KgL4NWjs6lj5rC2MjLUi1dFreZ-PH24aCwVC1ySrDqMM1CUzMBEMDo2XjhgUjl6wojgfSHVlg9mNdE3XA7WrJ/s2048/PA020116.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUm4CkaBbeheMEUmfOuOEYk5b3j980VvZvenvrDcE05iMzbgn32Gh3Ie2KgL4NWjs6lj5rC2MjLUi1dFreZ-PH24aCwVC1ySrDqMM1CUzMBEMDo2XjhgUjl6wojgfSHVlg9mNdE3XA7WrJ/w640-h480/PA020116.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>Coming down Stockton Brook locks in the rain</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgVRV10Ekd9XQ6Zk3n9cYqUi8-HlbX7ApWEIVb1XwRCYLT8LaBrBlmDxbU5dg9w93GVM1g5zdZj8A6fCCzYnpwrEQr42kZfk1-y77guDCimROsMtLIlQZf8_BScm1qK_oiiNDVwufaVor2/s2048/Grebe+and+Teal+on+Grand+Union.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1302" data-original-width="2048" height="406" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgVRV10Ekd9XQ6Zk3n9cYqUi8-HlbX7ApWEIVb1XwRCYLT8LaBrBlmDxbU5dg9w93GVM1g5zdZj8A6fCCzYnpwrEQr42kZfk1-y77guDCimROsMtLIlQZf8_BScm1qK_oiiNDVwufaVor2/w640-h406/Grebe+and+Teal+on+Grand+Union.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>Better weather (but no lock ladders) in 1971</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I emerged from the cabin at Bascote, where a single-hander had been waiting for another boat to come along to go through the staircase locks with. I must admit that when he asked me if I knew how the staircase worked I thought he was making assumptions about ignorant hire-boaters, but when I told him I did he said "Oh good, I'm not sure that I do". I told him to just stay on his boat and let us see him through, which he was more than happy to do.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The shopping needed to be topped up, so we stopped at the huge Tesco near Warwick. Our intended destination for the night had been Leamington, but we were ahead of schedule so decided to push on to the Cape of Good Hope, where we tied up on the moorings between the locks. Mark came back from a recce to the pub with "Good News and Bad News". The good news was that they were doing food until 8.30, the bad news was that they were fully booked for dining. We decided to go over anyway and perhaps try and persuade them to serve us some food at one of the outside tables, but when we got there they told us that a large party was already half-an-hour late for their booking so if we wanted their table we could have it.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The beer and the food at the Cape were both excellent, but my cold was now so bad that after eating I had to call it a day and return to the boat for an early night.</span></p>Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14502754753792780008noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8491197068002893936.post-20893993505643670482021-10-15T15:26:00.088+01:002021-10-15T15:26:00.197+01:00The 50th Anniversary Trip - Day One<p><span style="font-family: arial;"><b> Friday 1st October 2021</b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVPtbZfPnMEM3SRPAqyerNRbZD4mXcAnUfBIzgffOz2lGp9tlXiijYp2-H8xBu-dNNY6G3HokWTBxEaYuP3_rAQkgxQwSSb5OyeBjRHyChcQXJdAp6oaC4qoEfN3GcjUTrQNcjJLh1u23m/s2048/PA040133.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVPtbZfPnMEM3SRPAqyerNRbZD4mXcAnUfBIzgffOz2lGp9tlXiijYp2-H8xBu-dNNY6G3HokWTBxEaYuP3_rAQkgxQwSSb5OyeBjRHyChcQXJdAp6oaC4qoEfN3GcjUTrQNcjJLh1u23m/w640-h480/PA040133.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Our route was the "Warwickshire Ring", which Willow Wren say is "100 miles and 100 locks", although that underestimates the lock count by a significant number! In 1971 we had begun to do the ring anti-clockwise, but turned round at Brinklow after the first day: nobody is sure why. Despite the shorter days we also found time to do the Coventry Arm from Hawkesbury Jc, but this time round we opted for the plain-vanilla clockwise version.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">With Hillmorton locks closing to boats at 16.30 we'd negotiated a 14.30 start from Rugby Wharf. I was the first of the crew to arrive (unlike the rest I didn't go via the "Steam Hammer" pub between the station and the wharf) On presenting myself at reception I was asked to return to car park "beyond the cones" and wait there until the rest of the crew had arrived, whereupon we would all be admitted to the wharf together!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Further Covid precautions meant that only two of us (named in advance) were then shown over the boat and told where everything was and how it worked (except, it became apparent later, the heating!). Only then were the rest of the crew allowed to board. Having confirmed to Willow Wren that we had all arrived we then had to admit that one crew member was missing. Hugh was the only one coming by car and the only one who had been unable to find the boatyard. Unfortunately, having the only car, he was also bringing the food for the first few days. By now we were anxious to get away and Willow Wren were equally anxious to get rid of us as they had other boats to despatch. Fortunately, Jeanette, who was driving Hugh, rang at just the right time to say they were still lost so we arranged to meet them at Hillmorton and got on our way.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNp0xj7hoW-9hVYczcvdQ7rCsJt30MAOkDzQdukraMMkVdLwJetqbmI2Nv0rIVOtm6rjou_zWHJMF9B4GIIyXOtXPN1IEdChbjpk9_ErUFohxtsA_BW4J_Zb6leMSwm_IGAyjT61njyAdp/s2048/PA010111.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNp0xj7hoW-9hVYczcvdQ7rCsJt30MAOkDzQdukraMMkVdLwJetqbmI2Nv0rIVOtm6rjou_zWHJMF9B4GIIyXOtXPN1IEdChbjpk9_ErUFohxtsA_BW4J_Zb6leMSwm_IGAyjT61njyAdp/w640-h480/PA010111.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Getting ready to load supplies at Hillmorton. Clive in a tangle with the ropes!</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />At Hillmorton there was a prime example of how hire boaters can be treated differently on the cut. Having been helped through the bottom lock by the volunteer lockies, the obvious place to load the food into the boat was on the upper lock landing. It would only take a minute and there were no other boats around, but no sooner had we stopped than one of the volunteers was over to tell us we couldn't tie up there. In fairness, she accepted our explanation and we were soon on our way for an uneventful run to Braunston, arriving just as it got dark and managing to find the last available space to tie up before the junction.</span><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">We'd been planning a meal in the Old Plough in the village and, with it being Friday night, had attempted to book a table by email, albeit with no response. Fortunately, passing the Boat House, we decided to eat there instead. The food and beer were good enough, but it wasn't really "pub-like" enough for us, so we headed off to the Old Plough - to find that at 9pm on a Friday night we were just about the only customers and that there was only one ale - "Hobgoblin" on tap. Some of the party headed off to try the Wheatsheaf, but the rest of us just made the best of what was a disappointing Friday night.<br /></span><p><br /></p></div>Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14502754753792780008noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8491197068002893936.post-49889066089267703242021-10-14T15:23:00.003+01:002021-10-15T10:15:40.760+01:00The 50th Anniversary Trip Day O<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijcRWR6IlfuOWN92GY0LmN91IC7HiPFWB-QLGbBLbJPP4Ns7x2X5EV3aQ7u-YucD6ozI4Qh2ikGdhBCCiTGliqxH6RCz5bwo8R6eHZt1k7vn-EtOgIRdz7VcSaapX8RCfYsTTyS8DxesLN/s2048/PA020118.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijcRWR6IlfuOWN92GY0LmN91IC7HiPFWB-QLGbBLbJPP4Ns7x2X5EV3aQ7u-YucD6ozI4Qh2ikGdhBCCiTGliqxH6RCz5bwo8R6eHZt1k7vn-EtOgIRdz7VcSaapX8RCfYsTTyS8DxesLN/w640-h480/PA020118.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The modern "Grebe"</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br />I<span style="font-family: verdana;">n 1971 I organised a hire-boat trip for members of Salford University Inland Waterways Society, which was my first experience of boating. Such was the interest from Society members and friends of friends that we needed two boats, both 70-footers, "Grebe" and "Teal" hired from Willow Wren in Rugby for a week over the New Year holiday. I don't have much memory of the trip, but you can read what little I do remember <a href="https://theboattripyears.wordpress.com/the-winter-trips/1971-2-grebe/http://here.">here.</a></span><p></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8l4AcyeHA4V2mIngJMfUaZ_iL_0iPHDIsyz4649Tax4Ug3zWeUsSnL8vKrgn7Abhk0T3gZ5-eXJnezz3jIOVWRhpFlZ37eOpyhbEG7XfaiER0vt_tCEk8RjvsGSBDLXaQbihbC4t4whRO/s2048/Grebe+at+Willow+Wren%2527s+Yard%252C+Rugby.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1405" height="375" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8l4AcyeHA4V2mIngJMfUaZ_iL_0iPHDIsyz4649Tax4Ug3zWeUsSnL8vKrgn7Abhk0T3gZ5-eXJnezz3jIOVWRhpFlZ37eOpyhbEG7XfaiER0vt_tCEk8RjvsGSBDLXaQbihbC4t4whRO/w258-h375/Grebe+at+Willow+Wren%2527s+Yard%252C+Rugby.jpg" width="258" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grebe in 1971 at Rugby Wharf</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"> A boat trip became an annual event, switching in 1979 to the Spring and involving an ever changing list of participants. I went for the last time in 1985, but the trips carried on and, as I found out only a week ago, only came to a (temporary?) end in 2019 before Covid struck.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"> By then, none of the original crew members had gone along for many years, but we still reminisced about them and, this year, we were persuaded by Mark, who was a regular, to do it "one more time". In a nod to our fast approaching old age and increasing eccentricity (and our beverage of choice) he dubbed it "The First of the Autumn Ale Trips"</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"> Recreating the full winter experience by hiring in January was deemed a step too far, so we settled for April, although that had to be postponed to October due to Covid. We did, however, follow (most of) the original route, omitting only the Coventry Arm and the "false start" to Brinklow, to do what is now referred to as the "Warwickshire Ring", which Willow Wren describe as an "energetic" one-week cruise, even more so when the youngest of the crew is in his late 60s and the eldest just shy of 80! </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">From my own point of view I thought it would be interesting to see that being a hirer was like, after many years of owing my own boat.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">When it came to a choice of boat, we couldn't resist <a href="http://www.willowwren.co.uk/boats.htm" target="_blank">"Grebe"</a> as this was the name of the boat we had back in 1971. With 12 berths in its 65ft length, Grebe is described as "perfect for larger groups". Fortunately there were only seven of us to share the space. Lack of WiFi and only 12-volt electrics made "real time" blogging impossible, so this account is being written retrospectively, as and when time permits.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Stay tuned for "Day One"....</span></p><p><br /></p>Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14502754753792780008noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8491197068002893936.post-10990485871401002872021-06-16T17:18:00.001+01:002021-06-16T17:18:21.576+01:00Good Timing at Swinderby Station<p style="text-align: justify;"> <span style="font-family: verdana;">We are just back from a few days away in Lincoln. One of the highlights of our stay was a cycle ride we made on Sunday covering thirty-eight miles of old railway lines and quiet country roads to the south and west of the city.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">One railway line we came across was very much still in use - the line from Lincoln to Newark and on to Nottingham - which we crossed at Swinderby station. The station isn't very convenient for the village it purports to serve, being 1600m distant and seemingly in the middle of nowhere.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The first sight you get of it coming from the north is the signal box</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglbjGl-GyRVkh2DhJsQiSHGVlf9QuvjHVdgXFZ96KO-fFXO7G3SPrj5_eMmT7uPkUP_XL-ZTZFSWeJDFuv18OYa7MWRN7Y0O93CbjDlLNXcoF6mUUhMjzIKrfSspOxHswxMLKq8hEo77h1/s2048/Swinderby+Signal+Box.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglbjGl-GyRVkh2DhJsQiSHGVlf9QuvjHVdgXFZ96KO-fFXO7G3SPrj5_eMmT7uPkUP_XL-ZTZFSWeJDFuv18OYa7MWRN7Y0O93CbjDlLNXcoF6mUUhMjzIKrfSspOxHswxMLKq8hEo77h1/w640-h480/Swinderby+Signal+Box.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></span><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Such boxes are increasingly rare, being replaced by large centralised control centres, but Swinderby's, built in 1901 by the Midland Railway, is a listed building and still very much in use.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Despite it being a Sunday, we had managed (without trying) to arrive at exactly the right moment. We heard the bells ring out in the box, then the signalman pulling his levers, which meant a train was approaching. What I wasn't prepared for was what happened next:</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizfDYqnB-jq1S4OaroijASlLi9ivhdwUoAVUsaSiLPqScXEJJEyosPUk3vrSDBiV284jVli5YkwhEiHWpCXHQiLm7yi-JwtyItIg8-Jr01ISFn-doazIXXW9pYasj0jZX_riO11d7R12Ie/s2048/Signalman+opening+gates.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizfDYqnB-jq1S4OaroijASlLi9ivhdwUoAVUsaSiLPqScXEJJEyosPUk3vrSDBiV284jVli5YkwhEiHWpCXHQiLm7yi-JwtyItIg8-Jr01ISFn-doazIXXW9pYasj0jZX_riO11d7R12Ie/w640-h480/Signalman+opening+gates.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></span><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">He came out of the box and manually opened (or closed, depending on your point of view) the crossing gates.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">There was then quite a gap before the train arrived, which gave us a chance to admire the rest of the station buildings and the former station-master's house behind that are also listed.</span></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXxTzyFyhTyZLR1f99CW63zJgO_KotPGWKkRLbXJSv8SbtsMLtdV4hX9IBsfEsC9nbg1h8vl4AaoAqyDoZ65hF2pizzu4eMBI9CVfRdFgZ3ur7fpK3BG00IUeFXGoMTVJCdGbAIIbkcyv7/s2048/Station+buildings+and+station+master%2527s+house.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXxTzyFyhTyZLR1f99CW63zJgO_KotPGWKkRLbXJSv8SbtsMLtdV4hX9IBsfEsC9nbg1h8vl4AaoAqyDoZ65hF2pizzu4eMBI9CVfRdFgZ3ur7fpK3BG00IUeFXGoMTVJCdGbAIIbkcyv7/w640-h480/Station+buildings+and+station+master%2527s+house.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></span><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The train was a "semi-fast" Lincoln to Nottingham service and not due to call at Swinderby, which on a Sunday has a better evening service than a daytime one.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiACLQBs2zbI4CengmKJIrWsdr55OEnraP9TgIWUXKGV-1DLbGi8VADSEXMiU0g02yjYMsKHTITUF-8Xyg7mZ_TU0RMFNh9_k96Ugm1pk9P2LUv_CKqFetltQfbYoewHWhO-ItoVC3XMhL8/s2048/Class+158+on+through+train.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiACLQBs2zbI4CengmKJIrWsdr55OEnraP9TgIWUXKGV-1DLbGi8VADSEXMiU0g02yjYMsKHTITUF-8Xyg7mZ_TU0RMFNh9_k96Ugm1pk9P2LUv_CKqFetltQfbYoewHWhO-ItoVC3XMhL8/w640-h480/Class+158+on+through+train.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></span><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">There was then another delay, whilst the signalman attended to more bells and levers before he emerged from the box to open the gates again. </span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0CFiTUpuVuey4ihm6FgxzedwZPsSZosBAQtfmLVYTC2Lh_MEAK65eSCJnCd5HG256E2-5yAaFWN3PE2QEGS8GlFbX1akEdcfLZxhQJceY4h1TjsPPwgryJvub024w1IMj4H2UrsBGF5z5/w640-h480/Signalman+closing+gates.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0CFiTUpuVuey4ihm6FgxzedwZPsSZosBAQtfmLVYTC2Lh_MEAK65eSCJnCd5HG256E2-5yAaFWN3PE2QEGS8GlFbX1akEdcfLZxhQJceY4h1TjsPPwgryJvub024w1IMj4H2UrsBGF5z5/s2048/Signalman+closing+gates.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div style="text-align: justify;">Despite a closure of at least five minutes there were no vehicles waiting to come across from the Lincoln direction and only two waiting on the other side. As you can see in the photo above there is a handy bus stop serving the station, although the service using it runs from er...Lincoln to er...Newark and there are rather more trains to those places than there are buses, especially on a Sunday when there are no buses at all.</div></span><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14502754753792780008noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8491197068002893936.post-72874431575903282012021-05-27T17:24:00.003+01:002021-05-27T21:05:47.807+01:00Town Halls, Stagecoaches and Boating Magazines<p style="text-align: justify;"> <span style="font-family: verdana;">A visit to my local Oxfam bookshop to see if they would be interested in taking a collection of waterway magazines off my hands as part of a general clear out to create a bit of space on the bookshelves here in Starcross Towers was only partially successful: yes, they would take them, but then I bought three books on the way out!</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Two were Pevsners:</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbPaor-DScV3amj5altgSnjcQqmiulBOStHBWEkyTtfCZGnHcvNFR5YFmJfaM-SH1L0Bry8BY6WjG9wIuofSPCLhNqOLRwIB4tdJDvo9aXz1XnU5GVE6oLcj9rzsaKiBcHEnkST48QHlra/s2048/P5270072.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbPaor-DScV3amj5altgSnjcQqmiulBOStHBWEkyTtfCZGnHcvNFR5YFmJfaM-SH1L0Bry8BY6WjG9wIuofSPCLhNqOLRwIB4tdJDvo9aXz1XnU5GVE6oLcj9rzsaKiBcHEnkST48QHlra/w640-h480/P5270072.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></span><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Having bought my first ever Pevsner during last year's lockdown, which covered my home area of North Lancashire, I was pleased to obtain these neighbouring volumes at about 10% of the price of new ones. They are a different edition to one I already have and a different size - smaller and more portable for taking with me on bus trips or cycle rides.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The "South Lancashire" volume covers Bury (Pevsner's volumes were originally published before the invention of concepts such as Greater Manchester or Merseyside) so I was able to discover that the imposing Town Hall I photographed on a bus day out in April was built in 1936 and has "<i>little in the way of decoration or individuality".</i></span></p><p></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizXZzFjehBGOO1w0laNxrboHGoPDGIA7rVsC4nXS5Ya8cE8FyiGoaf8RgSFxuCHHOhItGcYvJDUaWUAVy085V0BbROnhjymdWSRXUwbTV6OH_nbjhbE7m0rZUqbEWV5NmyQ2RZYAT0tuS7/s2048/Bury+Town+Hall+Ceremonial+entrance.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizXZzFjehBGOO1w0laNxrboHGoPDGIA7rVsC4nXS5Ya8cE8FyiGoaf8RgSFxuCHHOhItGcYvJDUaWUAVy085V0BbROnhjymdWSRXUwbTV6OH_nbjhbE7m0rZUqbEWV5NmyQ2RZYAT0tuS7/w480-h640/Bury+Town+Hall+Ceremonial+entrance.jpg" width="480" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"><i>Bury Town Hall - ceremonial entrance</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">That's a matter of opinion, but Pevsner is nothing if not opinionated when it comes to architecture.</span></div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Here's another view</span></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYLIQ8t6-7gMwb69c-7W3pVLUIUvvv_bn9sfPzxMlz0uhi5m4302AorWKTd-GeZjNDrxi7f07u3CX48Pbrc-WN5-Hp4q6rMBP9aziEVHwkVNnIgOgj0ON1-0_N5g0t47bIRnDwTUfmVrjM/s2048/Bury+Town+Hall+from+road.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYLIQ8t6-7gMwb69c-7W3pVLUIUvvv_bn9sfPzxMlz0uhi5m4302AorWKTd-GeZjNDrxi7f07u3CX48Pbrc-WN5-Hp4q6rMBP9aziEVHwkVNnIgOgj0ON1-0_N5g0t47bIRnDwTUfmVrjM/w640-h480/Bury+Town+Hall+from+road.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"><i>Bury Town Hall (and everyday entrance)</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">It was <a href="http://chertsey130.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Sarah on Chertsey</a> that started me on photographing town halls. When I posted a photo of Warrington Town Hall that I'd noticed when walking from Warrington bus station to the railway station on my way home from Starcross' mooring at Anderton she commented that she did "like a bit of municipal grandeur". <a href="https://narrowboatstarcross.blogspot.com/2013/02/not-so-much-wassat-as-whereisit.html" target="_blank">Read the post to see why.</a> The north of England seems to specialise in such "grandeur" and I now have a growing collection.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The third book was on Stagecoaches:</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixxf96l9Oeb3WYH0Bsdyt-oongPRt4sFYIV4F0SIITOLd14PSAy_fQKRL8dK6FscO7rZ5LqHAMb8oPmSFaztFRMYNNqtqh9t9eAxrBoBLVycRQX0hqDqRR2tazTyAKMvk9odWdbDwk5TUd/s2048/P5270073.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixxf96l9Oeb3WYH0Bsdyt-oongPRt4sFYIV4F0SIITOLd14PSAy_fQKRL8dK6FscO7rZ5LqHAMb8oPmSFaztFRMYNNqtqh9t9eAxrBoBLVycRQX0hqDqRR2tazTyAKMvk9odWdbDwk5TUd/w640-h480/P5270073.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></span><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Although I take an interest in all forms of transport, I am particularly fascinated by the Stagecoach era. Very little seems to have been written about it, which is a shame as for almost 100 years coinciding with the golden age of canals it was the backbone of the country's passenger transport system.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I'd love to know more about how it was organised and run. Just how did a multitude of small scale individual proprietors - and one large national undertaking, the Post Office, manage to run a network of services that covered the country, year-in, year out, providing scheduled services that were advertised with departure times down to the last minute on the primitive roads of the day with similarly primitive technology involving wooden-wheeled vehicles reliant on horse power? </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Drivers, guards and horses were all managed separately. Horses had to be changed every dozen or so miles and drivers and guards were also relieved en-route although not necessarily at the same points, after which they presumably had to get home again. It must have been a nightmare to organise.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">And what of the passengers? The carrying capacity of the coaches, especially the Mail Coaches, was small, necessitating people booking in advance. "Bookings" would have had to be recorded, by writing the passengers' names in a "book" held at a central point, but how did the names get into the book, which was held perhaps several hundred miles away? And how did the drivers know who had "booked" and was therefore entitled to be picked up bearing in mind that the fastest means of communication between places in those days was the coach itself?</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Of course, the coach industry underwent continuous improvement during its lifetime with journey times coming down from days to hours and the comfort of vehicles increasing. By the 1830s it must have seemed as if the improvements would continue and the coaches would go on for ever: a little over 10 years later they were finished!</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I don't know if my new volume will throw any light on these questions, but one thing I do like about it is the Directory of Coaches from Yorkshire Towns. In 1827 the "Comet" left Leeds at 12.45pm and ran via Wakefield, Barnsley, Sheffield, Nottingham, Loughborough, Leicester, Market Harborough, Northampton, Dunstable, St. Albans and Barnet and arrived at the "Bull & Mouth" hotel in London the following afternoon at 3pm. Twelve years earlier, the "Eclipse", running via Ferrybridge and Doncaster (and down the Great North Road) had taken seven hours longer and required </span><b style="font-family: verdana;">two </b><span style="font-family: verdana;">nights aboard the coach!</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Some coaches operated in conjunction with packet boats. The "Aire & Calder", the "Blucher" and the "Ebor" all ran daily between Leeds and Selby "in connection with the Hull packets" </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">There was even competiton akin to the early days of bus deregulation. When in 1838 the "British Queen" began running between Leeds and Manchester at a fare of 12/- (inside) and 8/- (outside) the existing proprietors banded together to run the "Victoria" at the same times and route but at half the fare.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">No doubt there is much more of interest within and I will have to judge whether I can justify bumping "The Old Coaching Days in Yorkshire" up the queue of books waiting to be read "during lockdown" that includes a 447 page volume on the history of "The Manchester Bus".</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">In the meantime, if anyone wants a set of "Narrowboat" magazines from Issue 1 up until Winter 2014, some bound, some not and can either collect them from Lancaster or meet the cost of getting them to you, please get in touch soon.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14502754753792780008noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8491197068002893936.post-29174403293827001852021-04-22T11:06:00.004+01:002021-04-22T11:12:25.050+01:00Back to Bus<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8vqKYoKv3qLKTBaSjO6ASpzoQeCfcxXpsSonrkVM4yYkwc4daUOocZ-Q9QkpsPV2QNScSNo4gsZEZQPoCT_b_XOZq37Vql2LgyRj2gBexq-TbsHXnNAAifaD3VnRY55ZdyjSxBYkZf-6K/s2048/P4200090.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8vqKYoKv3qLKTBaSjO6ASpzoQeCfcxXpsSonrkVM4yYkwc4daUOocZ-Q9QkpsPV2QNScSNo4gsZEZQPoCT_b_XOZq37Vql2LgyRj2gBexq-TbsHXnNAAifaD3VnRY55ZdyjSxBYkZf-6K/w640-h480/P4200090.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">It's been a while - a very long while, what with one thing and another - since I last had a day out on the buses. I've caught the bus back from town a few times and I did manage a ride to Morecambe and back (all of six km. each way) but Tuesday saw the longest bus journey I've made in over a year!</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">As well as buses (and canals of course) one of my interests is street markets, so where better to head for on a Tuesday than "Lancashire's Market Town"</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEI1Vxg3z67ymVtBvFvw72-7stSlgiFUhyphenhyphenWnyQ_HpYBWqHgDUgIpQjvak1vrfVmJ9yt98WjBkvQ-LLGd3e3KvqYDhaSyjGGPmMbM2rc5xqAvIwb2fBuGhGgcUX4ughEDlsRBZZ8D939jTU/s2048/P4200080.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEI1Vxg3z67ymVtBvFvw72-7stSlgiFUhyphenhyphenWnyQ_HpYBWqHgDUgIpQjvak1vrfVmJ9yt98WjBkvQ-LLGd3e3KvqYDhaSyjGGPmMbM2rc5xqAvIwb2fBuGhGgcUX4ughEDlsRBZZ8D939jTU/w640-h480/P4200080.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I can get there on just two buses from the end of the road, although I must admit that given the choice from Preston of the direct bus along the A6 or the alternative that wanders around Leyland and South Ribble those who know me will be able to guess which one I took.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Chorley is a great place for a street market fan especially on a Tuesday, the town's main market day. Last time I went, a few years ago now, the market was being held in a rather windswept car park on the edge of town and consequently I was disappointed. But that was presumably a temporary occurrence as this time it filled the main streets including, naturally, Market Street, which was once part of the A6.</span></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUMAo89-JcX0JMprCdAlpQIyHzNt5kaMOd9BLaowbb7gSpQHfirBvnWqsDyD2xkafJyPAhmTOF9e9QHmdg3hhCOdiMQ_SvGUF1enU86nwhEx9rBJ_GmEEthtz1xjS7iaaX0YQpg8p5NWrB/s2048/P4200064.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUMAo89-JcX0JMprCdAlpQIyHzNt5kaMOd9BLaowbb7gSpQHfirBvnWqsDyD2xkafJyPAhmTOF9e9QHmdg3hhCOdiMQ_SvGUF1enU86nwhEx9rBJ_GmEEthtz1xjS7iaaX0YQpg8p5NWrB/w640-h480/P4200064.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>Market Street, once part of the A6</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsF-mdygEomI6ihS2fQrkhECept3igWjC58ZdiIl_D7J8t5jhH8FMs-NqRSVwl3hC971T_IS2b_ALyDqtetSSKsSVPZG1JhHoo6zq7CF1LM0xfQkENsjE75tgKkCb76zFzfu_h05iUSYGg/s2048/P4200063.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></span><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsF-mdygEomI6ihS2fQrkhECept3igWjC58ZdiIl_D7J8t5jhH8FMs-NqRSVwl3hC971T_IS2b_ALyDqtetSSKsSVPZG1JhHoo6zq7CF1LM0xfQkENsjE75tgKkCb76zFzfu_h05iUSYGg/w640-h480/P4200063.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>The market extends to several side streets as well<br /></i><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsF-mdygEomI6ihS2fQrkhECept3igWjC58ZdiIl_D7J8t5jhH8FMs-NqRSVwl3hC971T_IS2b_ALyDqtetSSKsSVPZG1JhHoo6zq7CF1LM0xfQkENsjE75tgKkCb76zFzfu_h05iUSYGg/s2048/P4200063.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwcS77dx-ey9K7J6-uYA9P4zf4gwLY01d3paUbFK7Lzb-JyXmQm6GT6x8rRqzglCyQgPd1HzkkpePcS3maBdhvCsnZj-umpv8tTPHJ92BR_fi0wk9bU2qcGGkkrK0oi8z5TYT8ovRd0tit/s2048/P4200066.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwcS77dx-ey9K7J6-uYA9P4zf4gwLY01d3paUbFK7Lzb-JyXmQm6GT6x8rRqzglCyQgPd1HzkkpePcS3maBdhvCsnZj-umpv8tTPHJ92BR_fi0wk9bU2qcGGkkrK0oi8z5TYT8ovRd0tit/w640-h480/P4200066.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">As well as the street stalls, there's also a market hall.</div></span><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR7Ly1kurkH-6xSuycC-06QTwKzjAnpm9kxojN-tsACY3CfkJGF0LDDKKcgxQa-tgaFYUb06mMPNVtuIqv97jmX_lVIynpv2NCoCN6STpuTiB23BcfFJsv8MnHJkj07TAwAWg1cpEpMDtP/s2048/P4200077.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR7Ly1kurkH-6xSuycC-06QTwKzjAnpm9kxojN-tsACY3CfkJGF0LDDKKcgxQa-tgaFYUb06mMPNVtuIqv97jmX_lVIynpv2NCoCN6STpuTiB23BcfFJsv8MnHJkj07TAwAWg1cpEpMDtP/w640-h480/P4200077.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnMF091XQGrfg4AiKHaFu35i13WG_qtufcGhyUWXWJvSY45ory606khcPUxv_DAFmjAXIlbrrIRHeYgSOwpEzRs8ftuNS2BKonS6KDsMKuXG6gqDwm-cB99eOLvgsiTeyPbBtsnZvSGLlb/s2048/P4200075.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnMF091XQGrfg4AiKHaFu35i13WG_qtufcGhyUWXWJvSY45ory606khcPUxv_DAFmjAXIlbrrIRHeYgSOwpEzRs8ftuNS2BKonS6KDsMKuXG6gqDwm-cB99eOLvgsiTeyPbBtsnZvSGLlb/w640-h480/P4200075.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Much as I enjoy markets and try to support them, it can be difficult to find things to buy. Chorley market, especially the indoor bit, must be heaven for women seeking cheap clothes, but there wasn't much for me. There was a cheese stall - and a fishmonger - but I still had quite a bit of bus riding to do and the thought of lugging several hundred grams of Tasty Lancashire and smoked Haddock around on the buses for the rest of the day didn't appeal. The fruit and veg stall was tempting. . .</span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwoJgrPqeZQT0GnDAUKmgbCjAC0irpGrZR6aeDPIoNcfbhm7Asy4QfcnPcqYghTzKOm6AKxS8DLtHz96kUHUFe_eigmbvXmc0j4fJTkdZ8IPLfuF5vWz6pkO1yO1GcPJc7AvY-AMqj3LnK/s2048/P4200074.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwoJgrPqeZQT0GnDAUKmgbCjAC0irpGrZR6aeDPIoNcfbhm7Asy4QfcnPcqYghTzKOm6AKxS8DLtHz96kUHUFe_eigmbvXmc0j4fJTkdZ8IPLfuF5vWz6pkO1yO1GcPJc7AvY-AMqj3LnK/w640-h480/P4200074.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">. . . I really fancied some Rufford potatoes! But again they would have been heavy to carry and I usually do the veg shopping on Lancaster market on a Wednesday anyway. I did manage to get a bag of Uncle Joe's Mint Balls ( a famous Wigan delicacy) from the sweet stall though.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">As you can see from the photos, shoppers have returned to Chorley's streets with a vengeance, which might be why the mannequin outside Slack's Farm Butcher's shop was dressed this way:</span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBpSPwvqhoE7unqPMskYk2T2RsGyW3IcM8BaANeMnDfrHo_ulotVTzyVHVoGwZBtfm8zufdlUJjHf8_28vlgafzefDVhgaMIbp3O0OzP8zZ7tv-Y0bFO89LHyVd43mKYOQOuPUVfEbV0SV/s2048/P4200070.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBpSPwvqhoE7unqPMskYk2T2RsGyW3IcM8BaANeMnDfrHo_ulotVTzyVHVoGwZBtfm8zufdlUJjHf8_28vlgafzefDVhgaMIbp3O0OzP8zZ7tv-Y0bFO89LHyVd43mKYOQOuPUVfEbV0SV/w640-h480/P4200070.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>Slack's Farm Butcher's Mannequin.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Two hours passed quickly enough before it was time to return to the bus station for the next stage of the journey - on the Blackburn Bus Company's service 24 which would take me back to its home town.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXH1sCnIWZPVcKl4wrezl8HmUE6jJOlCk6r0DjXjY5H7TCOfWd8KJe1R9WpBdA9TSH8FCxkfzndXpMCmIffz8K3I-eEt3v5NX0YydetHVlCGGQG-OmC9T6_UlK8qjcYWh2Q5HhYL58LDGw/s1920/24.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXH1sCnIWZPVcKl4wrezl8HmUE6jJOlCk6r0DjXjY5H7TCOfWd8KJe1R9WpBdA9TSH8FCxkfzndXpMCmIffz8K3I-eEt3v5NX0YydetHVlCGGQG-OmC9T6_UlK8qjcYWh2Q5HhYL58LDGw/w640-h360/24.png" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The 24: Chorley to Blackburn - every hour.<br /><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div style="text-align: justify;">Once free of the Chorley urban area, the 24 follows a scenic route along the edge of the West Pennine Moors, with distant views of the higher moorland to the east. Fortunately I had a double-decker on which to appreciate it fully. The intermediate villages are typical moorland stone-built affairs, in contrast to the brick found in lowland Lancashire. Wheelton was particularly attractive, but most fascinating was Abbey Village, an isolated community in the middle of the moors, where an enormous former mill dominates the scenery, whilst the former mill workers' houses are strung out along both sides of the main road.</div></span><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCbuox256yRxRDAK6K-g8YooVZs0GoEMuSXCkaLGQhECE7kZsuy_0T9CgtxzSe_dHs5SxOMTmF-2WN3sDd_X0ENtZ0WqpKZPXtmpJi6n5E40I1Kq_kjhyphenhyphenJsH5b3UdGFoohoQNsYPJrne0m/s1185/Abbey+village+2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="663" data-original-width="1185" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCbuox256yRxRDAK6K-g8YooVZs0GoEMuSXCkaLGQhECE7kZsuy_0T9CgtxzSe_dHs5SxOMTmF-2WN3sDd_X0ENtZ0WqpKZPXtmpJi6n5E40I1Kq_kjhyphenhyphenJsH5b3UdGFoohoQNsYPJrne0m/w640-h358/Abbey+village+2.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Abbey Village (from Street View)</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">We crossed the Leeds & Liverpool no fewer than four times on the journey. Once on the outskirts of Chorley at Botany Bay, where there was a pub called "The Lock and Quay" (but no lock or quay!); twice in Feniscowles and finally once again towards the top of the locks in Blackburn.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I'd never been on the 24 before, but I was glad I had - a classic example of a bus route that takes you to places you would never see if you travelled between the two towns by any other means.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">From Blackburn I had a choice of no fewer than three routes back to Preston. The most scenic was Preston Bus service 45, which followed an even more meandering route through the Ribble Valley. Stagecoach's 59 was the most direct - along the Preston New Road - but when that hadn't turned up by its scheduled time, the "First Rule of Public Transport" (If it's there - and it's going your way - get on it!) applied and I took the Burnley Bus Co.'s 152, itself running eight minutes late, back to Preston.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">By the time we got there, we were even later than we had been leaving Blackburn, not helped by sitting on the stop before the bus station for several minutes whilst my comfortable 20 minute connection for the Lancaster bus became a potentially nail-biting four minute one!</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Preston's bus station is huge, although these days buses only use the far side of it. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4vfD0dg0Z5wRdoCub-oK5Nc5rDO9IArCDN4L0sbVyJ2jPohfTmkJOwvzb9T4UkQfXPrdpO2H-yBiUyVRMfyaidvPcKv5xl6qkJDXPNO4oNCDZMBTKUdW3jUAFe-KGW867534ra1KbxYvE/s2048/P4200048.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4vfD0dg0Z5wRdoCub-oK5Nc5rDO9IArCDN4L0sbVyJ2jPohfTmkJOwvzb9T4UkQfXPrdpO2H-yBiUyVRMfyaidvPcKv5xl6qkJDXPNO4oNCDZMBTKUdW3jUAFe-KGW867534ra1KbxYvE/w640-h480/P4200048.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Inevitably, the 152 arrived at one end of it, whilst the Lancaster bus left from the very farthest stop at the other one. Helpfully, the powers that be had put a Covid-secure one-way system in place, enforced by tape and barriers, which meant I couldn't follow the obvious and direct route through the station, but I made it with under a minute to spare, although I don't think I stuck strictly to the rules.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The 16.45hrs service 41 from Preston to Lancaster is a most frustrating bus! To start with, it gets an additional ten minutes running time to get out of the city due to expected traffic congestion. This it doesn't really need and consequently we spent about seven minutes waiting at the side of the road in Broughton until it was time to proceed. The first time this happened, I wrote to Stagecoach and suggested that this was a bit silly and that they could reduce the extra running time. They replied saying that they had asked the drivers if they always had to hang around in Broughton and they had all said that they didn't! (They could have also told me that the Pope was a Roman Catholic and that they were well aware of what bears did in the woods!)</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Anyway, while we were waiting a 41 bus going the other way appeared, so I took its photo.</span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi53uB3kjX-F4OCMNejktFy_LzGI2er21KBPy5MHgfLvrWrNEEnrT8f2BN_0qybGSux15D27bQHsklRJ5Xio_qa5FrmzNau6NB_AMi9HGHXI2TsOPb3wh0M2YHBnTVN0c-7usqqf4uxGS1w/s2048/P4200095.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi53uB3kjX-F4OCMNejktFy_LzGI2er21KBPy5MHgfLvrWrNEEnrT8f2BN_0qybGSux15D27bQHsklRJ5Xio_qa5FrmzNau6NB_AMi9HGHXI2TsOPb3wh0M2YHBnTVN0c-7usqqf4uxGS1w/w640-h480/P4200095.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>The view from the timing point stop in Broughton</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Despite - or possibly because - the road through the village having been traffic-calmed the bus stops are directly opposite each other, but when one is occupied by a bus waiting time for seven minutes, buses coming the other way have to stop back from their stop, otherwise the road would be completely blocked.</div></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Once moving again, our driver hammered along the A6 to Garstang, where we had another few minutes to wait, and then again to Galgate by which time I was nearly home. But the 16.45 had another trick up its sleeve. Lancaster University is 4.5km south of the city just off the A6. Despite having a local service of 12 buses an hour to and from the city centre it is still necessary for some long-distance buses to be diverted via the campus to cater for the numbers travelling. Service 41 is one of these and again, extra running time is allowed for buses to follow the diversion. The 16.45 from Preston gets to the University at around 18.00, which is a peak "going home time" for the many hundreds (thousands?) of students who live in the city centre. At "normal" times, the queues for buses can look like this:</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMT8NGvLfkekg58YU61TKD8-Yi5M4hNmrDqJtT34cwnetFdLlZiGIax2hBR3eaoXGL3KSitUnqUhHFjldojXz0j9WdC4X-dD7JoxluhT6BV6r_FczDfgPYp_lQvmwZfnVRh7q2-Rou9Ffp/s2048/Queue+at+Underpass+1.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMT8NGvLfkekg58YU61TKD8-Yi5M4hNmrDqJtT34cwnetFdLlZiGIax2hBR3eaoXGL3KSitUnqUhHFjldojXz0j9WdC4X-dD7JoxluhT6BV6r_FczDfgPYp_lQvmwZfnVRh7q2-Rou9Ffp/w640-h480/Queue+at+Underpass+1.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">and even more time is allowed to get them all on board with fares collected or tickets and passes checked. At the moment, of course, there are hardly any students travelling, so the 16.45 sat on the stop for another 8 minutes! I eventually got off at my local stop exactly 90 minutes after leaving Preston. We were exactly on time as far as the timetable went, but as at other times of day the journey can take an hour-and-ten (and in the evenings under an hour) it had seemed a long and tedious journey.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Still, it was good to be back on the buses after a long time and I'm looking forward to doing it again soon.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></div></div>Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14502754753792780008noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8491197068002893936.post-46123956037013039862021-04-01T19:02:00.002+01:002021-04-01T19:02:37.334+01:00Doing the Evergreen Challenge<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiICrpOrJ7z5ek2BEldsyHg72BlfUYaWZI-5nlxpBiQyl-gb8CnKiLUB7S6pUph_f05PYSqswaNIbqFVdfX-cEXgDAh9AWq3viUg2nt5l72FsJsOqoBndzQVZq2jGMIEIFfKt3f9D2BhkZz/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="300" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiICrpOrJ7z5ek2BEldsyHg72BlfUYaWZI-5nlxpBiQyl-gb8CnKiLUB7S6pUph_f05PYSqswaNIbqFVdfX-cEXgDAh9AWq3viUg2nt5l72FsJsOqoBndzQVZq2jGMIEIFfKt3f9D2BhkZz/w640-h358/image.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">With the container ship "Ever Given" now re-floated and traffic on the Suez Canal on the move again my old boating chum Steve has issued me with what he's calling the Evergreen challenge: to own up to my own boating adventures that have resulted in a total blockage of the canal.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">My early boating was done on hire boats, which were always 70-footers and, in those days, usually conversions of deeply-draughted working boats. Coupled with the poor state of maintenance of what were still lightly-used canals and our own inexperience as boaters, running aground was not uncommon. The biggest incidents however usually involved us getting stuck in bridgeholes: not a problem on the Suez Canal but certainly a potential cause of delay on the narrow canals.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDiXqjPEKMn7IZrhc6cNevNwb70DesGJx-HW-X-F_PeRNNsT7cG_KC5HFipRy4ZdkV-Vdhj6F4duZco129Abn0FwNTjlfFP6v6_rvfgU9k3zJ3qtdHnV5JPs7QtadSsG3XT_etdfS6oib2/s2048/3-13-2012+11-39-22_002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1327" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDiXqjPEKMn7IZrhc6cNevNwb70DesGJx-HW-X-F_PeRNNsT7cG_KC5HFipRy4ZdkV-Vdhj6F4duZco129Abn0FwNTjlfFP6v6_rvfgU9k3zJ3qtdHnV5JPs7QtadSsG3XT_etdfS6oib2/w414-h640/3-13-2012+11-39-22_002.jpg" width="414" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">One of many such incidents occurred aboard the Tardebigge Boat Company's "Benbow", itself a former working boat, on the Worcester & Birmingham Canal in 1972, which required most of the crew to be put on the bow rope and the rest to rock from the side, except of course for the obligatory person on the roof to shout instructions.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">We were, however, just like the "Ever Given", quite capable of running aground in the middle of the channel, which needed much engine-revving and shafting from the bow to get us free.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitTRxY3xa96q2BmuceWTmgUP_bX_a36miHYFTwHxIv7UxQuACCZbwFyzwM1K3Nx5K45Xrrg1kBKeDndm-vf_szjZkrcmiY4wAPvPnUi-hqf-W5HC6X87lj83qIzrdpiFxcUzZeEhLsjWos/s1982/1.+Aground+on+the+Oxford+Canal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1109" data-original-width="1982" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitTRxY3xa96q2BmuceWTmgUP_bX_a36miHYFTwHxIv7UxQuACCZbwFyzwM1K3Nx5K45Xrrg1kBKeDndm-vf_szjZkrcmiY4wAPvPnUi-hqf-W5HC6X87lj83qIzrdpiFxcUzZeEhLsjWos/w640-h358/1.+Aground+on+the+Oxford+Canal.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Union Canal Carriers' "Bainton" aground on the Oxford Canal in 1974</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Some of the greatest difficulties occurred aboard "Gardenia", which still was a working boat and loaned out to Waterway Societies as part of the Keep the Channel Clear campaign in the early seventies. The boat was ballasted to achieve a draught equivalent to a load of 15 tons with the idea being that if it could get through, then everything else could as well.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Once again, bridgeholes were a major problem, especially if, as here at Hopwas on the Coventry Canal, a lorry load of bricks had been dumped in them</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPyAjPlXb_H8jElMxavlpZSYPmnxfnBnqoB9qjdgvYoDcXj9J-1F0zN69bvrmFFoa01YNSJqdFGzDLLeZX087qTXbsP6zaYrh6j0RVf14cICFWWK3cRh6vQxs_qVx6moZQddxBRPYPeElj/s2048/21+Me+at+Hopwas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1302" data-original-width="2048" height="406" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPyAjPlXb_H8jElMxavlpZSYPmnxfnBnqoB9qjdgvYoDcXj9J-1F0zN69bvrmFFoa01YNSJqdFGzDLLeZX087qTXbsP6zaYrh6j0RVf14cICFWWK3cRh6vQxs_qVx6moZQddxBRPYPeElj/w640-h406/21+Me+at+Hopwas.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>Me doing my bit to free Gardenia at Hopwas</i><br /><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;">Here we got so stuck that we decided that the only way through would be to remove the bricks from beneath the bow one-by-one, prising them loose with our feet. This took most of the afternoon and attracted the attention of a passing reporter from the Wolverhampton Express & Star who duly wrote up the story in the following day's edition. Despite it being August, I can only recall a small number of occasions when we had to pull Gardenia back from the bridge to allow other, shallower-draughted craft to pass.</span><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5spFW7rDHMbJGsJ2wGilT0WjxiKeX9-AmybZlNxHTGLYYI97k4LQkWyu8jkmzBOWBOwg_QztUJPVYqw8iNpuyNTCXGdN5w9DCuQqY74f-5qfKouLyVp0LU_n_G-kI-v9y0lVp5S1SWLZS/s2048/9a+Duncan+on+winch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1395" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5spFW7rDHMbJGsJ2wGilT0WjxiKeX9-AmybZlNxHTGLYYI97k4LQkWyu8jkmzBOWBOwg_QztUJPVYqw8iNpuyNTCXGdN5w9DCuQqY74f-5qfKouLyVp0LU_n_G-kI-v9y0lVp5S1SWLZS/s320/9a+Duncan+on+winch.jpg" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>Duncan on the winch</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">Later that year, with the Stoke on Trent Boat Club I took Gardenia up the Caldon Canal, which at the time was officially closed. Despite reducing the draught, by the simple expedient of manually unloading five tons of concrete slab ballast (and reloading it afterwards) we got no farther then Stockton Brook, where we spent most of a day and had to resort to a manual winch we'd brought along to make any progress at all.</span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWf5m-eRzrLcmAp2jlSO0-1qBbhiX3JVCR-V__oFnpat0Ar8bPA2pO5grIAML55rSFYF_r_dVcbH10PjGHjqAk-Eh1CamknTeIAP88U_A_BSo_6RLR4rJ6GUAogZ7NR0EOla-6jLjfqfx3/s2048/9.+Duncan+operating+winch+at+Stockton+Brook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1395" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWf5m-eRzrLcmAp2jlSO0-1qBbhiX3JVCR-V__oFnpat0Ar8bPA2pO5grIAML55rSFYF_r_dVcbH10PjGHjqAk-Eh1CamknTeIAP88U_A_BSo_6RLR4rJ6GUAogZ7NR0EOla-6jLjfqfx3/s320/9.+Duncan+operating+winch+at+Stockton+Brook.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>Stuck at Stockton Brook</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">Shortly after the second photo was taken the winch operator trod on a wasps' nest, which improved his sense of humour no end!</span><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><h3 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Starcross Days</span></h3><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">I had far fewer such incidents with Starcross. As a purpose-built leisure boat she drew no more than a couple of feet and, of course, the canals were more highly-used and in better repair by then. Nevertheless, we did come across a few "canal-blocking" incidents, most of which involved other boats.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">The steerer of this unidentified boat on the Llangollen Canal at New Marton seemed to be having difficulty finding his way into - or was it out of?- the lock.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWdgzAljws5F6FBbPNIr3F3C_-Y4eDwtrBVzKobrQh9Dan51pQ0jTtTZlwNTfvZu-lvQPDYetHBWF4thVvvs1NKhCpFe1gxDBqHdNcAJf6XWpgAyvibliFSPOWjCezvYp21rwL6jv20CG2/s505/27.+Trouble+at+New+Marton++21.03.08.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="505" data-original-width="440" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWdgzAljws5F6FBbPNIr3F3C_-Y4eDwtrBVzKobrQh9Dan51pQ0jTtTZlwNTfvZu-lvQPDYetHBWF4thVvvs1NKhCpFe1gxDBqHdNcAJf6XWpgAyvibliFSPOWjCezvYp21rwL6jv20CG2/w558-h640/27.+Trouble+at+New+Marton++21.03.08.jpg" width="558" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">Fortunately, I had already passed him and was heading in the opposite direction.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">At least he could blame the crosswind on this relatively exposed section. Not so the crew of the boat I came across blocking the canal nearer to home on the approach to Shelmore embankment on the Shropshire Union.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWwJ8EO9FuNlQuFalN0T6cel2zTnid-beioAFaImpJHJ7lYaTnSaEfrUhcvB6p499cdyrE4cswp6XSIljL65wsWTFP_GuayFONFJom4MNDzdRWEZnVRn2DTZiuPSFbT0rLPywdovPLT9J8/s2048/018+Boat+in+trouble+at+Shelmore+13.04.11.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWwJ8EO9FuNlQuFalN0T6cel2zTnid-beioAFaImpJHJ7lYaTnSaEfrUhcvB6p499cdyrE4cswp6XSIljL65wsWTFP_GuayFONFJom4MNDzdRWEZnVRn2DTZiuPSFbT0rLPywdovPLT9J8/w640-h480/018+Boat+in+trouble+at+Shelmore+13.04.11.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">Not only had they run aground, they had also managed to get the centre rope wrapped around the prop! I did offer to stop and help but they said they could manage, so as soon as the gap was big enough to allow Starcross through I carried on and left them to it.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">One time we were asked to stop and assist was at Henhull, farther north on the Shroppie, where a boat attempting to moor had got caught in a crosswind.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1xWvYCV8Y-xX-T_jIohOzeGb70CesAJmGIWuUrKjECIlm3nzKnmSeMLB8Wa6Olxsu5_7yVTjZkdcCINBzBL0GH4thHT6DLzIHdxyCKkF4FknzU4gDawwlo-kDFrEY4_UmHVwEKthCoDk5/s440/5.+Boat+across+cut%252C+Henhull+29.12.07.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="330" data-original-width="440" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1xWvYCV8Y-xX-T_jIohOzeGb70CesAJmGIWuUrKjECIlm3nzKnmSeMLB8Wa6Olxsu5_7yVTjZkdcCINBzBL0GH4thHT6DLzIHdxyCKkF4FknzU4gDawwlo-kDFrEY4_UmHVwEKthCoDk5/w640-h480/5.+Boat+across+cut%252C+Henhull+29.12.07.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">The more experienced of the two crew members had made the elementary mistake of jumping for the bank with the bow rope rather than a centre line and the second person didn't have the skill to manipulate the engine control and the tiller to bring the stern in. The solution was for Starcross to act as a "stern thruster" and shove the back end into the bank so that the first crew member could get back on board.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">I must confess, however, that there was at least one occasion when Starcross could have ended up sufficiently stuck to cause a problem approaching Ever Given proportions. However, as it was on the exceedingly little-used waterway known as Kyme Eau in Lincolnshire the effect on other traffic would have been minimal.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">Having struggled single-handedly up the Eau from its junction with the River Witham in a weed-infested channel and against a stronger than expected stream I began to realise that with water levels being high I would have trouble getting under a low bridge identified in my Nicholson's Guide. To assist boaters a loading gauge had been placed under the previous bridge and the understanding was that if you couldn't get under the gauge without hitting it, you wouldn't get under the following bridge.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Vb7MhG7B5ni-uoCu_3rYb8sQUTEethg3UK7hDebv7OAd4-BkmxN7_Ka9te66-9akFjvqJPqKoEyaC9P67bpe9IHF8AtHxFrPfGb7jNGiXHSopgKJ0I-J4wCszoyQRRUNEy4AIT04zReq/s2048/209+Low+Bridge+at+South+Kyme.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Vb7MhG7B5ni-uoCu_3rYb8sQUTEethg3UK7hDebv7OAd4-BkmxN7_Ka9te66-9akFjvqJPqKoEyaC9P67bpe9IHF8AtHxFrPfGb7jNGiXHSopgKJ0I-J4wCszoyQRRUNEy4AIT04zReq/w640-h480/209+Low+Bridge+at+South+Kyme.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">On arrival at the gauge it was immediately obvious that I couldn't get through. It had taken me over twice as long to get this far up the Eau as I'd expected and as I clearly wasn't going to get any farther it was time to abort the mission. But there was nowhere to turn round!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">Kyme's Eau is narrow and winding and the junction with the Witham was five kilometres and one lock back the way I had come. There was no option but to set off in reverse, allowing the current to do the work with an occasional burst on the throtttle to steer.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">Fortunately, I remembered that about a kilometre or so back I had passed what looked as if it might be a winding hole, or at least somewhere I could use as one to turn. By now, the stream was quite strong and I thought that attempting to turn in the conventional "nose-in" manner could prove problematical as I would have to fight against the current to bring the boat round.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">The only way to turn safely appeared to be to go against all received wisdom and put the stern into the winding hole and hope that it wouldn't be so shallow that I would end up completely stuck. With no one else on board to discuss this with and with the winding hole rapidly approaching I made the decision to go for it.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8071NsPpv1pECkJIqasj1tuODfzgkGQkm7D3wjfQ9bd_dZkmpWXQXhu39fSK-eVpnOtNRbNk9zHB5TlKJfpHiIgC9dhOYIwK4LqLIS4Dm-VLVoYmdIVVqmqFIdvDZannn942yHSKtbG8N/s2048/210+Winding+on+Kyme+Eau.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8071NsPpv1pECkJIqasj1tuODfzgkGQkm7D3wjfQ9bd_dZkmpWXQXhu39fSK-eVpnOtNRbNk9zHB5TlKJfpHiIgC9dhOYIwK4LqLIS4Dm-VLVoYmdIVVqmqFIdvDZannn942yHSKtbG8N/w640-h480/210+Winding+on+Kyme+Eau.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">I needn't have worried. The stern went in neatly right up to the bank and before I had time to think the current was sweeping the bow round. The channel was just wide enough to take Starcross and I was facing the right way and back off to the Witham, feeling mightily relieved.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">So that's my "Evergreen Challenge" or at least everything I'm owning up to. It's customary with these interent challenges to pass the baton on to someone else. I won't single out anyone but if any of my boating readers want to take up the mantle I'm sure we'll all be happy to see it.</span></div>Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14502754753792780008noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8491197068002893936.post-4953795542636072692021-03-09T10:10:00.005+00:002021-03-09T10:15:42.881+00:00Corn Flakes<p> <span style="font-family: verdana;">When I arrived at Salford University in 1969 I wasn't expecting to find much of canal interest to keep me amused. The Ashton and Rochdale Canals were both unnavigable. The Rochdale locks above "the nine" had been "cascaded" to form "an attractive water feature" <i>(sic) </i>and the Bridgewater's Manchester terminus at Castlefield was well-hidden and virtually inaccessible to anyone who didn't know their way around the back streets of that part of the city. </span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP-EeHfPNBAsyNOIJ0Gf0VjzYFsHv7N8_JMGBZ4EZxj58st3Xui0tZ1QQSGmsW23Bi3nZ28TtEIhzQg-lkh_l846-zVREq5uRLAQmDqcgt4lufx4_fFqLmAgfT7k2yGWAqoEL4BjUmIPSc/s616/Rochdale+Canal+water+channel+Ancoats+1973.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="399" data-original-width="616" height="414" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP-EeHfPNBAsyNOIJ0Gf0VjzYFsHv7N8_JMGBZ4EZxj58st3Xui0tZ1QQSGmsW23Bi3nZ28TtEIhzQg-lkh_l846-zVREq5uRLAQmDqcgt4lufx4_fFqLmAgfT7k2yGWAqoEL4BjUmIPSc/w640-h414/Rochdale+Canal+water+channel+Ancoats+1973.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: verdana;">The "attractive water channel feature" at Ancoats in 1973</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5vJWHVZiEGYVdp4WQ1nwMPHmw8oWx3eJruuFFRDMgAH2Ich6j03vdGSahYf-835RASMHTO0WbCJ5K4MPDUpA4Q8VWvz3YILppEUoXXmhFjfNWtT5qmJgRdOSzr-ONzxvJXYbMMeZQtpPJ/s633/Rochdale+Canal+cascaded+lock+Failsworth+1973.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="410" data-original-width="633" height="414" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5vJWHVZiEGYVdp4WQ1nwMPHmw8oWx3eJruuFFRDMgAH2Ich6j03vdGSahYf-835RASMHTO0WbCJ5K4MPDUpA4Q8VWvz3YILppEUoXXmhFjfNWtT5qmJgRdOSzr-ONzxvJXYbMMeZQtpPJ/w640-h414/Rochdale+Canal+cascaded+lock+Failsworth+1973.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>A Cascaded lock on the Rochdale (sorry about the image quality)</i></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /> I made the obligatory trip out to Eccles to see the Barton Aqueduct and visited Worsley to see "where it all began" but apart from spending a couple of weekends on work parties on the Rochdale Nine organised by the Peak Forest Canal Society that more or less was that.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">At some stage I discovered that, much to my surprise, there was actually some commercial traffic on the Bridgwater. Cargoes of maize were still brought from the Ship Canal, through Hulme Lock and on to the Kellogg's factory in Trafford Park. The carrier was Frederick J Abbott and the boats were just part of the company's extensive warehousing and transport operation, but I thought that a speaker from the company would make an excellent addition to a meeting of the University's Inland Waterways Society.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I can't remember the gentleman's name, but his talk was very informative. He was obviously used to public speaking and told us that he'd had many invitations to speak about the company in the past, but that this was the first time anyone had ever shown any interest in the boating side of the business.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">He told us that whilst at one time the grain had come all the way from the Mersey along the Ship Canal most of it was now tripped locally from ships in Manchester Docks. He also told us that the job wasn't particularly profitable and that he kept it going mainly because he had no other work for the crews involved but felt an obligation towards them, especially as several of them were due to retire shortly.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">This news prompted me to make an effort to go and see what remained of the traffic before it was too late. </span><span style="font-family: verdana;">So here, on a day in 1972, is what I saw.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">In those days, despite the activities of the IRA, the country was not as obsessed with "security" as it has since become and it was quite easy to wander round most places, including docks, without anyone worrying about what you were doing, so no one paid me any attention whilst I photographed this tug with and its tow.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1381" data-original-width="2048" height="432" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXHtXoXNw3dHmaGaUCqsSJiFPXiqYtNGMkcJrqYzbDFaRH2F6yT3jcD7GjpsnN5EeYVSmsQnabVrx85M8SadaqWIchrsFyrXYjnYDFNQljDlDomMFo-PkUDWtbXzyUYOy3qlnbG4DUc3hk/w640-h432/Salford+Docks+Tug+and+Sarah+Abbot+October+1972.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: verdana;">Sarah Abbott and tug in Manchester Docks</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXHtXoXNw3dHmaGaUCqsSJiFPXiqYtNGMkcJrqYzbDFaRH2F6yT3jcD7GjpsnN5EeYVSmsQnabVrx85M8SadaqWIchrsFyrXYjnYDFNQljDlDomMFo-PkUDWtbXzyUYOy3qlnbG4DUc3hk/s2048/Salford+Docks+Tug+and+Sarah+Abbot+October+1972.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">The "tow" was the "Sarah Abbott".</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOuP5j7uOnFhj69dECZGNYypHcz_-4e8NAKgi9NeNJh7cPDYpPv0zRSF6J5t3v-MD1vowllOJYnAI2Nydd4f8Uol5t64uL8Rzf-a5zQDjgo2UYNvzxwTHq9QYBwHk9CnSOqFDl_6NsC5Qy/s2048/Salford+Docks+Sarah+Abbot+October+1972.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1192" data-original-width="2048" height="372" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOuP5j7uOnFhj69dECZGNYypHcz_-4e8NAKgi9NeNJh7cPDYpPv0zRSF6J5t3v-MD1vowllOJYnAI2Nydd4f8Uol5t64uL8Rzf-a5zQDjgo2UYNvzxwTHq9QYBwHk9CnSOqFDl_6NsC5Qy/w640-h372/Salford+Docks+Sarah+Abbot+October+1972.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Here she is again passing one of the famous "Manchester Liners" fleet</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1405" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3pFn5-jqih1V6iL9beQ5cSa0e5FnxTMS3eahuHNhoosSmLnRreVI36C1Kms36ETxC4Kljmh2cy-tYJ2Iiv35P-AZM_l99SRqTueet5EZQRpQ15xU2ry3GbjJbxpC7KISzlCiPZTFJdjaL/w440-h640/Salford+Docks.+Boatman+on+Sarah+Abbot+Oct+1972.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="440" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: verdana;">Manchester Docks</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3pFn5-jqih1V6iL9beQ5cSa0e5FnxTMS3eahuHNhoosSmLnRreVI36C1Kms36ETxC4Kljmh2cy-tYJ2Iiv35P-AZM_l99SRqTueet5EZQRpQ15xU2ry3GbjJbxpC7KISzlCiPZTFJdjaL/s2048/Salford+Docks.+Boatman+on+Sarah+Abbot+Oct+1972.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></a></div><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I don't seem to have any pictures of them going through Hulme Lock to reach the Bridgewater, but on what might just possibly have been a different occasion here is the motor "Iris Abbott" coming under Hulme Hall Bridge on the Bridgewater Canal with a train that presumably included Sarah. . .</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1377" data-original-width="2048" height="430" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipmJKv5PAV3tfRQ2L-vhyphenhyphenx662TcrbFWX5bgxunZE6xpx368N9U3QaupFAeWv2xGWpe8rft31supTGid3y9FQdp9CA_ovpiPs8qOGEwm_WAlP0E2CFJQS9CQIHwA7oE07E8dsqnMGR9_lTX/w640-h430/Hulme+Hall+Bridge.+Iris+Abbot+with+grain+for+Kelloggs+October+1972.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></span></i></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: verdana;">Hulme Hall Bridge on the Bridgewater Canal</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipmJKv5PAV3tfRQ2L-vhyphenhyphenx662TcrbFWX5bgxunZE6xpx368N9U3QaupFAeWv2xGWpe8rft31supTGid3y9FQdp9CA_ovpiPs8qOGEwm_WAlP0E2CFJQS9CQIHwA7oE07E8dsqnMGR9_lTX/s2048/Hulme+Hall+Bridge.+Iris+Abbot+with+grain+for+Kelloggs+October+1972.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><i><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></i></a></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">. . . and then passing under the railway on the way to Trafford Park.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTeJyFcN8xSypdiBGerMZWJQHO9ltx2NK1HJzhNZwUpOKudD2tptxjMLS-dSIceOFVAHASRv6K_ZhY8XPj4cHuQ6BVLDkIPzh-8wv9OCIOFJC0t6vEXkxY6pF1ymwumGdekds1wuGowf7u/s2048/Hulme+Hall+Railway+Bridge+Iris+Abbot+plus+dumb+boats+November+1972.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1377" data-original-width="2048" height="390" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTeJyFcN8xSypdiBGerMZWJQHO9ltx2NK1HJzhNZwUpOKudD2tptxjMLS-dSIceOFVAHASRv6K_ZhY8XPj4cHuQ6BVLDkIPzh-8wv9OCIOFJC0t6vEXkxY6pF1ymwumGdekds1wuGowf7u/w640-h390/Hulme+Hall+Railway+Bridge+Iris+Abbot+plus+dumb+boats+November+1972.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Imagine meeting that little lot on the Bridgewater today!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">From the date on the original slide mount, it was a separate occasion, in 1973, that I caught up with them again in Trafford Park, where once again I was able to stroll around Kellogg's wharf unquestioned and photograph the boats waiting to be unloaded. </span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUseSXyW2cwlik8t73a-RYUTbeiT9kLz4_wwY-WWJGsdjBKkAudeqLTq1EQSYR7LXy5HIADDNdcPvADxapP9s5DvltMSQeODQSgo7sHMAxrKK-_5uA6S5xiDSG66XeODfBR9rYheNdmVjz/s2048/Kellogg%2527s+Wharf+June+1973.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1339" data-original-width="2048" height="418" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUseSXyW2cwlik8t73a-RYUTbeiT9kLz4_wwY-WWJGsdjBKkAudeqLTq1EQSYR7LXy5HIADDNdcPvADxapP9s5DvltMSQeODQSgo7sHMAxrKK-_5uA6S5xiDSG66XeODfBR9rYheNdmVjz/w640-h418/Kellogg%2527s+Wharf+June+1973.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: verdana;">Kellogg's wharf 1973<br /><br /></span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;">I was only just in time as the traffic ended in March 1974.</span>Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14502754753792780008noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8491197068002893936.post-64385488850163176172021-02-16T13:03:00.000+00:002021-02-16T13:03:19.415+00:00Fifty Years of Buses<p> <span style="font-family: verdana;">This blog is supposed to be about buses as well as boats, so to continue the "50 years ago" theme here is a photo of a new bus that I took in Manchester just over fifty years ago, on 27th January 1971</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzWTZgBg4mI0SD4PevcigC5Q5jEvzChqrbwTaMUj5BKvgzvmT5xUV8TmUIob6-t56vFMRGjYIm3hS2dtWD4-NSKsuEY_7nONs4fHiFALZ-zUdIEx2krLLAJSmGTwBagUpTC11NXdFPf0SG/s1493/Mancunian+in+MCTD+livery+in+Cannon+Street+27.01.71.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1493" data-original-width="1028" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzWTZgBg4mI0SD4PevcigC5Q5jEvzChqrbwTaMUj5BKvgzvmT5xUV8TmUIob6-t56vFMRGjYIm3hS2dtWD4-NSKsuEY_7nONs4fHiFALZ-zUdIEx2krLLAJSmGTwBagUpTC11NXdFPf0SG/w440-h640/Mancunian+in+MCTD+livery+in+Cannon+Street+27.01.71.jpg" width="440" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>A Manchester bus 1971</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I find it remarkable that that bus was new fifty years ago. With a contemporary livery, some updated styling and the removal of the centre door (outside London a short-lived 1970s fad) it could pass for a new bus today.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxpOkWHOr6qCwq1Aq7HiOOIuX-cZKI_1-4jqtN0h0V0VKM8s2QGx7SJ2GvUQZCCpo0CgjsQnk-ZUjvVFz4gEke4_1M4dWfjkG2suW90sO-GvXD5i0iMZs6_ZI73PI7WKQSyTagWn97CGNN/s2048/Service+255+at+Urmston.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1458" data-original-width="2048" height="456" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxpOkWHOr6qCwq1Aq7HiOOIuX-cZKI_1-4jqtN0h0V0VKM8s2QGx7SJ2GvUQZCCpo0CgjsQnk-ZUjvVFz4gEke4_1M4dWfjkG2suW90sO-GvXD5i0iMZs6_ZI73PI7WKQSyTagWn97CGNN/w640-h456/Service+255+at+Urmston.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>A Manchester bus today</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Buses haven't really changed very much in the last fifty years. Certainly a lot less than they changed in the previous fifty.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRoqo5T7Rz7G7GugDXdXMj7B8fbJ3fzkH1AVmSMi03eFeQJfLL82cHGuAOeumpzR-tXWWrVvcUwskRfP1mSzzbxtI7DauQL-LLA1dnGrqV1qrvw1VMbhJYPxXPYvxNTDEnAM-Qp5msh9v2/s600/i00006q0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRoqo5T7Rz7G7GugDXdXMj7B8fbJ3fzkH1AVmSMi03eFeQJfLL82cHGuAOeumpzR-tXWWrVvcUwskRfP1mSzzbxtI7DauQL-LLA1dnGrqV1qrvw1VMbhJYPxXPYvxNTDEnAM-Qp5msh9v2/w640-h426/i00006q0.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>Not a Manchester bus, but they wouldn't have been very different in 1921.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><i><br /></i><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Writing this has made me wonder what buses will look like in 2071, but I don't suppose I'll ever know!</span></p><p><br /></p>Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14502754753792780008noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8491197068002893936.post-41356830539947305832021-02-12T18:09:00.003+00:002021-02-12T18:17:58.398+00:00A Grand Day Out<p> <span style="font-family: verdana;">As I seem to be on a roll when it comes to memories of commercial traffic on the cut in Yorkshire in the 1970s it's an opportunity to tell you about what I still consider, almost fifty years later, to be one of the best days out I've ever had, combining all three elements: Boats, Beer and Buses that this blog is supposed to be about.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">One day, just before Christmas in 1972, with two friends who share my enthusiasm for declining forms of transport, we set off from Yeadon in the West Riding on a "West Yorkshire Road Car" bus to Leeds, where we had time to visit "Leeds Docks" and the Co-operative Society's wharf at the back of Leeds railway station, where coal was being unloaded by a steam-powered crane.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8OJ2Ej4AFDFsJsP0pT2pdSuytymt3VUqL53bdNL-53fHkWrXgOhFNbZSwqLr2XxXlc9b-kiMU4-vV4DzaLlvUP6K761Y_Adpj7rbJ1bOlPuLk64rghllOUF78tg4rUIZBtS0hdPeOBJJD/s2048/Coal+being+unloaded+in+Leeds+with+steam+crane+Dec+1972.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1339" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8OJ2Ej4AFDFsJsP0pT2pdSuytymt3VUqL53bdNL-53fHkWrXgOhFNbZSwqLr2XxXlc9b-kiMU4-vV4DzaLlvUP6K761Y_Adpj7rbJ1bOlPuLk64rghllOUF78tg4rUIZBtS0hdPeOBJJD/w418-h640/Coal+being+unloaded+in+Leeds+with+steam+crane+Dec+1972.jpg" width="418" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Coal being unloaded in Leeds City Centre</i></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Then it was on to Castleford, this time on a bus belonging to the West Riding Automobile Company. Here</span><span style="font-family: verdana;"> we walked down to the canal. It had turned into a cold and foggy day, not ideal for hanging around canal towpaths, but we spent a wonderful hour or so at Castleford Flood Lock watching the boats looming up out of the fog</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8sKiEqzW63es36U5KYqli8X9zYirT9UFxpsJOIqinVJmDd-c8et2rn0Ckct9x_uGKavEPE65_X6Lzz_1lAIWKcWh3zp2XunPT7rvRzKSqSGzxn7Pa4YVl3slppiS-YjVruybaLkkgtNtY/s2048/Cawoods+Hargreaves+push+tow+at+Castleford+December+1972.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1350" data-original-width="2048" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8sKiEqzW63es36U5KYqli8X9zYirT9UFxpsJOIqinVJmDd-c8et2rn0Ckct9x_uGKavEPE65_X6Lzz_1lAIWKcWh3zp2XunPT7rvRzKSqSGzxn7Pa4YVl3slppiS-YjVruybaLkkgtNtY/w640-h422/Cawoods+Hargreaves+push+tow+at+Castleford+December+1972.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>A Cawoods Hargreaves push-tow looming out of the fog at Castleford</i></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">Nearby was the Hargreaves depot and lay-by and more boats</span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><br /></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheuIjX_gzOjQahaggtRmPG0rYSFqnBpNBwU4Cq2bW0Z-4QCQMppTlQp3hlWYjfEh5YbacXzFsGbcGtG5mN7fcE1zIZ_93B1acwShJWfMiKTMZdkFwZrEA02cGyK66gw-fVRMw3keAaNUK_/s2048/Castleford.+Hargreaves+Depot+Dec+1972.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheuIjX_gzOjQahaggtRmPG0rYSFqnBpNBwU4Cq2bW0Z-4QCQMppTlQp3hlWYjfEh5YbacXzFsGbcGtG5mN7fcE1zIZ_93B1acwShJWfMiKTMZdkFwZrEA02cGyK66gw-fVRMw3keAaNUK_/w640-h426/Castleford.+Hargreaves+Depot+Dec+1972.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgghIXOkfxLVwSqI5DVCuZk_7w2x2z1c1kGepjmiXbBGfTlDaGl9ocqYFTH8QT2enBReHojxnyOoP2S_FADgWa2WMPSr1VaGxFduOC62REnibrtVkhdsfIFZTC-SZL3UtZ4dgBmXi-OXZAC/s2048/Cawoods+Hargreaves+Depot+Castleford+December+1972.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1373" data-original-width="2048" height="430" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgghIXOkfxLVwSqI5DVCuZk_7w2x2z1c1kGepjmiXbBGfTlDaGl9ocqYFTH8QT2enBReHojxnyOoP2S_FADgWa2WMPSr1VaGxFduOC62REnibrtVkhdsfIFZTC-SZL3UtZ4dgBmXi-OXZAC/w640-h430/Cawoods+Hargreaves+Depot+Castleford+December+1972.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /></div><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Back in town and seeking somewhere for lunch, we chose the Canal Tavern, partly for its name and partly because it sold a beer we had never come across before. In those pre-CAMRA days local breweries existed in isolation, known only to the locals and a handful of knowledgeable beer enthusiasts, which didn't include us. The beer was "Darley's" and it was wonderful. So impressed were we by it that we wanted to know where it was brewed. But nobody knew - neither the customers nor the attractive barmaid, who herself has become part of the folklore surrounding the day! We found out later that Darley's was brewed in Thorne. Sadly, it no longer is.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht2-vOL6BMVwuvIbgFyWq3xrQYuQeU3McWQHS_COCRtyGZD4lky3uLoqXnkBhyphenhyphen8FP8qwUhA_dEjorODk6toOPu4wZhc29oK-jyu3JOTO_fZ682RWaA5sUxfYjrtpSto2mv_ftIeQBhGePo/s443/Darley%2527s+Brewery%252C+Thorne.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="443" data-original-width="298" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht2-vOL6BMVwuvIbgFyWq3xrQYuQeU3McWQHS_COCRtyGZD4lky3uLoqXnkBhyphenhyphen8FP8qwUhA_dEjorODk6toOPu4wZhc29oK-jyu3JOTO_fZ682RWaA5sUxfYjrtpSto2mv_ftIeQBhGePo/w430-h640/Darley%2527s+Brewery%252C+Thorne.jpg" width="430" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Darley's brewery on another occasion</i></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">After an hour or so there we moved on to Ferrybridge. This involved another "West Riding Automobile Company" bus. West Riding was once the largest privately-owned bus company in the UK, but by the time of our visit it was part of the National Bus Company. It was unusual, however, in operating a fleet of "Guy Arab" buses (would anyone use that as a model name today?) and it was on one of these that we made our way to Ferrybridge through the gloom.</span></p><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLbglcrl-NBg_UIIkAUHYcWBFCA-bbCsYjFNhBYlBdFR0Gz_mdZ9hhUZjYhJazuwC72iiDMGZbFH9bPOt_Fca2gSe6JWnLa-PP9y7717PWQKnMKLKegSV06msbX2AfHr1R8POKC94d-z-P/s1388/Guy+Arab+in+Castleford.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1388" data-original-width="1166" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLbglcrl-NBg_UIIkAUHYcWBFCA-bbCsYjFNhBYlBdFR0Gz_mdZ9hhUZjYhJazuwC72iiDMGZbFH9bPOt_Fca2gSe6JWnLa-PP9y7717PWQKnMKLKegSV06msbX2AfHr1R8POKC94d-z-P/w538-h640/Guy+Arab+in+Castleford.jpg" width="538" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>A West Riding "Guy Arab" in Castleford bus station</i></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Guy Motors built its buses in Wolverhampton, but the bodywork was more local, being a product of C H Roe & Sons of Leeds. Some, but not the one above, had "lowbridge" bodywork where the seats upstairs were in one row of four with a sunken side gangway. This allowed the overall height of the bus to be reduced - very handy in industrial areas with lots of low bridges - at the expense of inconveniencing the passengers and the poor old conductor.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Alighting from the bus at Ferrybridge the first thing we saw was "Edwin Pittwood"</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDg-bCNlB-vPOdps7gWZR4IfL34Hc-_wLnIH5fOI6mTHPtcbKcrDzauh-caImvyIgjYEnzjx5G3npAQEf3BubvfT4ZupeLhss3-MKCZMQtVNXfY1cjT5ZA7iAwOut1lAEvKept9Z1m8ZDo/s2048/Ferrybridge+Edwin+Pittwood+December+1972.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1388" data-original-width="2048" height="434" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDg-bCNlB-vPOdps7gWZR4IfL34Hc-_wLnIH5fOI6mTHPtcbKcrDzauh-caImvyIgjYEnzjx5G3npAQEf3BubvfT4ZupeLhss3-MKCZMQtVNXfY1cjT5ZA7iAwOut1lAEvKept9Z1m8ZDo/w640-h434/Ferrybridge+Edwin+Pittwood+December+1972.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Edwin Pittwood running empty under Ferrybridge bridge</i></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Remarkably, this boat is still in existence, as an <a href="https://media.onthemarket.com/properties/8327829/1288887257/document-0.pdf" target="_blank">upmarket houseboat in London's Docklands.</a> (Mr. Pittwood himself is famous for being the Mayor of Scunthorpe in 1949 but you probably knew that, didn't you?)</span></p></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">Our next call was at the power station, which was coal-fired and received its fuel supply by water.</span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfAmihCPNBiDY_AqlU7pyaQoVZ3Fl32xkOeRyJOQHZ47wymPUGnquwGHEUSjSq-zBuDZoZZMlV0gsiEH-POO0b-szzD_6INC5pyFy8QAfSvSi6h_ImiemS7U3BDGDXdBaX-JB7_P3a3Hsw/s2048/Ferrybridge+Power+Station+2+December+1972.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1337" data-original-width="2048" height="418" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfAmihCPNBiDY_AqlU7pyaQoVZ3Fl32xkOeRyJOQHZ47wymPUGnquwGHEUSjSq-zBuDZoZZMlV0gsiEH-POO0b-szzD_6INC5pyFy8QAfSvSi6h_ImiemS7U3BDGDXdBaX-JB7_P3a3Hsw/w640-h418/Ferrybridge+Power+Station+2+December+1972.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Ferrybridge Power Station Wharf</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">Last call of an increasingly gloomy day was Knottingley, which we reached on a "Leyland Titan PD2" of the South Yorkshire Road Transport bus company, still an independent firm. Looking at the photo again, I realise that this was a "lowbridge" bus.</span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdk82AHNh5AsToECegL_-ecO7Toeoo4tm2cgT5iFRHa8IzdNHFWFYqDLm_qpHmo9pAegOYX03AQbA-9OCCoCHGlcw5P4uwGv_WUkg0TchpGzU0RLftByRVnnSnbeZvLT8kqy02JmXkZfMF/s1768/PD2+at+Ferrybridge.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1144" data-original-width="1768" height="414" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdk82AHNh5AsToECegL_-ecO7Toeoo4tm2cgT5iFRHa8IzdNHFWFYqDLm_qpHmo9pAegOYX03AQbA-9OCCoCHGlcw5P4uwGv_WUkg0TchpGzU0RLftByRVnnSnbeZvLT8kqy02JmXkZfMF/w640-h414/PD2+at+Ferrybridge.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>South Yorkshire Road Transport arriving to take us to Knottingley</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">Of waterway interest in Knottingley was Harker's Yard and Depot</span></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMCzhoKoClZYPb4134I3JXagR3Nx4xXU7HtfSD6uc7-o7CP3H63avrjR6lwn0bBoNV1v657Sowufr_QVEcFALReEylV0b5TWqcufQWy5ce-PjvDs2jEKLVvtVaBK-y8GQuKTQRrN6VXqod/s2048/Knottingly+Harker%2527s+Yard+Dec+1972.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1350" data-original-width="2048" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMCzhoKoClZYPb4134I3JXagR3Nx4xXU7HtfSD6uc7-o7CP3H63avrjR6lwn0bBoNV1v657Sowufr_QVEcFALReEylV0b5TWqcufQWy5ce-PjvDs2jEKLVvtVaBK-y8GQuKTQRrN6VXqod/w640-h422/Knottingly+Harker%2527s+Yard+Dec+1972.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">and what the caption on the original slide mount records as a "Tar Barge in Knottingley" (I'm ready to be corrected).</span></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcyU6vOfDJp9VWHafir7sqF98DBnVzR54gkNVj-5GZEQsMrPeJbsIWmzY4405T8B_KlqCweIeqZgC7ZImK8cVY-0QVLgKxowFb7QmE4lFH1e2G9y92CwqxUSt-0hI31rcesa7r3NCw3LNE/s2048/Knottingley%252C+Tar+Barge+December+1972.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1364" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcyU6vOfDJp9VWHafir7sqF98DBnVzR54gkNVj-5GZEQsMrPeJbsIWmzY4405T8B_KlqCweIeqZgC7ZImK8cVY-0QVLgKxowFb7QmE4lFH1e2G9y92CwqxUSt-0hI31rcesa7r3NCw3LNE/w640-h426/Knottingley%252C+Tar+Barge+December+1972.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The "Tar Barge" and (right) my companions for the day.</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">By the time we'd finished in Knottingley it was dark, so we repaired to a pub in the vicinity of the railway station. It's fair to say that we were about one-third the age of the rest of the clientele, who had a fondness for Jim Reeves if their choice of music on the juke box was anything to go by. But once again, we came across a beer that was new to us. Waiting at the bar, with its unmarked beer pumps, I noticed that most people seemed to be ordering a dark beer, which I assumed was the Mild. As we were Bitter drinkers we ignored it at first, but I was intrigued and persuaded the others to try some. I was surprised to find it cost more than the Bitter (Mild was traditionally a penny or two cheaper) so I asked what it was. What it was, was Younger's No.3. In those days and for long afterwards a beer revered by beer enthusiasts and rightly so.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">Eventually we tore ourselves away, putting six Jim Reeves records on the juke box before we did so as a "thank you", and made our way to Knottingley's Victorian gas-lit railway station (no photos seem to have survived) fo a train to Leeds and, after a few more pints, this time of Tetley's, we caught the last "West Yorkshire Road Car" of the day back to Yeadon.</span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">Although it's nearly fifty years ago now my companions of the day and I often talk about it. Steam cranes, barges, lowbridge buses, gas-lit railway stations and two hitherto-unknown beers enjoyed on an atmospheric foggy day. If anyone ever invents a time machine it will be my first port of call.</span></div>Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14502754753792780008noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8491197068002893936.post-87236400124685201862021-02-10T16:54:00.004+00:002021-02-10T16:54:44.407+00:00Rotherport<p><span style="font-family: verdana;"> In my previous post about the Sheffield & South Yorkshire Navigation I mentioned that the modernisation project came too late and by the time it was completed the traffic for which it was intended (coal and steel) had vanished.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">That wasn't British Waterways' fault. They spent many years campaigning to be allowed the funding to lengthen and mechanise the locks up as far as Rotherham, where they intended to create an inland port to be known as "Rotherport".</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I was reminded of this by almost the very next slide I came across after posting. Here it is:</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGaI8PqOMwuv_5JhrPz7vbCTMquaeFFeJ8uekNtNLfIPkG7fhMheNXxwJvdoLgGaD3Br80G4WZloKIw4rpfcLFOTII_Nrduo3pKtvFTZc1WkNmJ1KveeRgYnLtEncFyMtANwdnx-sEgYnx/s1693/Castleford+office++Support+Rotherport+April+1973.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1254" data-original-width="1693" height="474" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGaI8PqOMwuv_5JhrPz7vbCTMquaeFFeJ8uekNtNLfIPkG7fhMheNXxwJvdoLgGaD3Br80G4WZloKIw4rpfcLFOTII_Nrduo3pKtvFTZc1WkNmJ1KveeRgYnLtEncFyMtANwdnx-sEgYnx/w640-h474/Castleford+office++Support+Rotherport+April+1973.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">The window sticker is on a car parked in BW's Castleford Offices one day in April 1973. The offices were canalside adjacent the lock and on my previous visit there, several years earlier I had called in to buy a Towpath Permit, to allow me to walk the towpath, for which I was charged 2/6d. (Sadly, I don't seem to have kept it). Despite the campaign, it was to be another ten years before "Rotherport" came to fruition and it never lived up to its potential.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">But Castleford was a good place to see commercial traffic in 1973. Here are a couple more photos taken that day.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTOFpGP4srOVztIXCpMbmKIwCFAKyy9ZwOq9FHRlrD2DRUU5Tm7G2Put1ZTkk5HEPrfnKLluVLov1teznrbWCdj-c6aW5m_qhvmkhal7RjYwSyHQ_u79ObLd1iVIyeMGDMG_1T5B2ZW2rr/s2048/Bulholme+Lock%252C+Oil+tanker+April+1973.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1342" data-original-width="2048" height="420" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTOFpGP4srOVztIXCpMbmKIwCFAKyy9ZwOq9FHRlrD2DRUU5Tm7G2Put1ZTkk5HEPrfnKLluVLov1teznrbWCdj-c6aW5m_qhvmkhal7RjYwSyHQ_u79ObLd1iVIyeMGDMG_1T5B2ZW2rr/w640-h420/Bulholme+Lock%252C+Oil+tanker+April+1973.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>This oil tanker had just left Bulholme lock</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxIaABN3yHV3iU9iomX7pS3LhpZfuSg67qt2GJfiWUMm_EeiAN0pQWBSaEB60rAxizLMznws-6qJjYYhiDhvx0viVwCvdpIgAUArpOMdxApD9bCR_7CWBcZsvqvU2O04JzHkRRCliGsg35/s2048/Castleford+Flood+Lock+Dunlin+C+oil+tanker+April+1973.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1302" data-original-width="2048" height="406" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxIaABN3yHV3iU9iomX7pS3LhpZfuSg67qt2GJfiWUMm_EeiAN0pQWBSaEB60rAxizLMznws-6qJjYYhiDhvx0viVwCvdpIgAUArpOMdxApD9bCR_7CWBcZsvqvU2O04JzHkRRCliGsg35/w640-h406/Castleford+Flood+Lock+Dunlin+C+oil+tanker+April+1973.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>Tanker "Dunlin C" at Castleford Flood Lock</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC85tlR-6WwW9y8Xfg8YrPJVWLcQqDErKKd26nnUurPtbSV-PV4Ujuh6IJPJels3JfS9bh07MByYGCs_ShgxCFepRskj7zvKpA5nX92rBII616-EoH-yVCGUAyS5AGYBw4GfloFn7MIKLj/s1460/Castleford%252C+Allinson%2527s+Mill+April+1973.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="993" data-original-width="1460" height="436" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC85tlR-6WwW9y8Xfg8YrPJVWLcQqDErKKd26nnUurPtbSV-PV4Ujuh6IJPJels3JfS9bh07MByYGCs_ShgxCFepRskj7zvKpA5nX92rBII616-EoH-yVCGUAyS5AGYBw4GfloFn7MIKLj/w640-h436/Castleford%252C+Allinson%2527s+Mill+April+1973.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>Allinson's Mill and what looks like a tricky mooring!</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitw96EklpwawYHuNoSm8GuWyMJ9p3wJ1cdsob4F5flB-HAfdha5cdkkU5jDKFdQvRRRkagzg0JHUGwfwG9VbjO7hSEt2rLPPv31z9tGPTh3sCY3ntUxaKrD0s20WGAFVPU7-xr1FXj-Q14/s1712/Castleford+Lock.+Keel+Littlebeck+April+1973.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="983" data-original-width="1712" height="368" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitw96EklpwawYHuNoSm8GuWyMJ9p3wJ1cdsob4F5flB-HAfdha5cdkkU5jDKFdQvRRRkagzg0JHUGwfwG9VbjO7hSEt2rLPPv31z9tGPTh3sCY3ntUxaKrD0s20WGAFVPU7-xr1FXj-Q14/w640-h368/Castleford+Lock.+Keel+Littlebeck+April+1973.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>"Littlebeck" was well loaded passing the BW offices <br />but I don't know what with. (There's that car again!)</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p>Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14502754753792780008noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8491197068002893936.post-1996416029717899252021-02-08T17:05:00.001+00:002021-02-08T17:16:01.592+00:00A Walk in South Yorkshire<p> <span style="font-family: verdana;">The never-ending 35mm colour slide digitisation project, which is actually within sight of an end - or at least the bottom of the box) has thrown up some photos of commercial traffic on the cut. I don't know exactly when the photos were taken - I'd guess early 1970s (so, gasp, 50 years ago!) but I do know where.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I can't remember doing it, but it looks as if one day in the said "early 70s" I must have taken a trip from Sheffield down the Sheffield & South Yorkshire Navigation at least as far as Mexborough. I wasn't on a boat - I've never boated that section - and didn't have a car, so I must have been on foot, although I suppose I might have used the odd bus or two along the way.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I started at Sheffield Basin. (Does it still look like this?)</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNjzybT-OCdngBmLOq680czzSu7hXqj4BZ3uJBMX0m2yIlXgnG7dFqrqWxlCTLqi3HeJSpJMHYp30mwcFWha6gbIjFxvzaxlg5YaFPO4wr8HWsqOMpCURyFidhTForfluSaIaJkSXtubgB/s2048/Sheffield+Basin++early+1970s.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1279" data-original-width="2048" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNjzybT-OCdngBmLOq680czzSu7hXqj4BZ3uJBMX0m2yIlXgnG7dFqrqWxlCTLqi3HeJSpJMHYp30mwcFWha6gbIjFxvzaxlg5YaFPO4wr8HWsqOMpCURyFidhTForfluSaIaJkSXtubgB/w640-h400/Sheffield+Basin++early+1970s.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Then walked down the Tinsley flight</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfUN1LBuiLCkI37Oi7aoVbt3noPnipQQosEHsJwNZ4yPnti5ItJdM1MHfxrrUnCBL157miuYPXpoS6v2fVt1aBuV3tVEKpaug1XtBpTklOb7a3Ai3U8XNNzmJ4rZZjyvosuKD8DBw-80jK/s2048/Tinsley+Locks+early+1970s.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1390" data-original-width="2048" height="434" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfUN1LBuiLCkI37Oi7aoVbt3noPnipQQosEHsJwNZ4yPnti5ItJdM1MHfxrrUnCBL157miuYPXpoS6v2fVt1aBuV3tVEKpaug1XtBpTklOb7a3Ai3U8XNNzmJ4rZZjyvosuKD8DBw-80jK/w640-h434/Tinsley+Locks+early+1970s.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">and on to Rotherham, where I saw my first boat, the "Riccall"</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfCTWMi1rAMcEUSYiP6twiTJVXZ_nHK2GBglCEeac3-JQny8t3jpDzg6_lcaDnqC5vpDCdZV7xMdN7mn3N8oOoanBpXQVlR3zmGHz60fq7BwuXuBlLU-8GyiBhx_4bGm8yoF1IrcLe2Iox/s2048/Rotherham+Lock%252C+loaded+boat+Riccall+early+1970s.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1295" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfCTWMi1rAMcEUSYiP6twiTJVXZ_nHK2GBglCEeac3-JQny8t3jpDzg6_lcaDnqC5vpDCdZV7xMdN7mn3N8oOoanBpXQVlR3zmGHz60fq7BwuXuBlLU-8GyiBhx_4bGm8yoF1IrcLe2Iox/w404-h640/Rotherham+Lock%252C+loaded+boat+Riccall+early+1970s.png" width="404" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Commercial traffic was already rare by this time and Riccall's passage of the lock appears to have attracted some interest other than my own.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Then on to Swinton and Waddington's yard...</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiahCsOCPGyThJCk7G8nRcJch-6owkIvEFI1scnEFeOW5HgrKjl2LmgectsyKisjtaaobsma34_pTazK5pnpvUya3Ptl0JP6ZEwKPdhk_tw9IxDx0qZ9K1gDe9Tvj0v2lnqEzXYXPRCmTr7/s2048/Swinton%252C+Waddington%2527s+Yard+wearly+70s.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1383" data-original-width="2048" height="432" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiahCsOCPGyThJCk7G8nRcJch-6owkIvEFI1scnEFeOW5HgrKjl2LmgectsyKisjtaaobsma34_pTazK5pnpvUya3Ptl0JP6ZEwKPdhk_tw9IxDx0qZ9K1gDe9Tvj0v2lnqEzXYXPRCmTr7/w640-h432/Swinton%252C+Waddington%2527s+Yard+wearly+70s.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">...and on to Swinton lock, where "Sobriety" was just leaving, heading north.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj7cuCZdDTD5ta2n917Dbx2ZQPMKLGZpnVyVo3stLmU-zmc3E1bNidy8wNZLYaE8WNATkhslAYBkw1mc5uNshtg5whntOsyNhn2avzfz8jnrefqJ0nCuxV-gf_FYMXbgjfOlOM0LojH9D3/s2048/Swinton+loaded+boat+early+70s.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1392" data-original-width="2048" height="436" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj7cuCZdDTD5ta2n917Dbx2ZQPMKLGZpnVyVo3stLmU-zmc3E1bNidy8wNZLYaE8WNATkhslAYBkw1mc5uNshtg5whntOsyNhn2avzfz8jnrefqJ0nCuxV-gf_FYMXbgjfOlOM0LojH9D3/w640-h436/Swinton+loaded+boat+early+70s.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Now converted for leisure/residential use, Sobriety was recently offered for sale <a href="https://www.boatstar.co.uk/House-Boats-for-sale/House-boat-For-Sale-Converted-Sheffield-Barge-61ft-6ins-x-15ft-6ins-with-wheelchair-lift-Sobriety-Laying-Goole-DEPOSIT-RECEIVED-Second-hand/10157" target="_blank">on a brokerage website</a></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Last call of the day and the end of the walk was Mexborough, where I came across "Richard".</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg4wuiuHqVTtBKjKj2h-7YUZDgPfApwYT2gjhsBa_I1Zh-4dp6ybIB4Bm5ozpqEbwEXVle-2P72ZTypQq8zC1YrTPIkdFdGBhkS9wRReUUZECMAXFP06V52LFrfO7aIpDXwZqfpdiKvdLd/s2048/Mexborough+loaded+boar+Richard+early+1970s.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1414" data-original-width="2048" height="442" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg4wuiuHqVTtBKjKj2h-7YUZDgPfApwYT2gjhsBa_I1Zh-4dp6ybIB4Bm5ozpqEbwEXVle-2P72ZTypQq8zC1YrTPIkdFdGBhkS9wRReUUZECMAXFP06V52LFrfO7aIpDXwZqfpdiKvdLd/w640-h442/Mexborough+loaded+boar+Richard+early+1970s.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I've no idea what these boats were carrying (although I suspect coal or steel might have been involved) or where they were going to or coming from but seeing three loaded commercial boats on the move in one day must have been very exciting. The Sheffield & South Yorkshire was modernised, with bigger, mechanised locks in the 1980s but those were not good times for the steel and coal industries and by the time the work was completed the need for it had gone.</span></p>Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14502754753792780008noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8491197068002893936.post-41565820207206387382021-01-30T17:29:00.001+00:002021-01-30T17:29:33.005+00:00Walking around Lancaster<p> <span style="font-family: verdana;">Living where I do, on the edge of Lancaster, I have access to a wide range of urban and rural walks to provide my allowable exercise during lockdown, but some of my favourite walks are around the city itself.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Lancaster has some conventionally pretty bits that anyone would find attractive, such as the area by the castle...</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4VO0sWFNEV5ZQSWu0jeSGoB3vAaBjyOym081i8nUY5JTzddrOG3a0CshhI1pRCbu4WPaacFSiMuuao2e6cNozzwEEejm_ObMh_W2OMnALvhIJM1StG6UE-myLwM4CLPgG1vBOB3xBoX0n/s2048/Castle+Hill++December+2019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1830" data-original-width="2048" height="572" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4VO0sWFNEV5ZQSWu0jeSGoB3vAaBjyOym081i8nUY5JTzddrOG3a0CshhI1pRCbu4WPaacFSiMuuao2e6cNozzwEEejm_ObMh_W2OMnALvhIJM1StG6UE-myLwM4CLPgG1vBOB3xBoX0n/w640-h572/Castle+Hill++December+2019.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>Castle Hill<br /><br /></i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;">...and our magnificent Edwardian Town Hall</span><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghiNcxC311V_74t21bcQ0YBvg7M5PBRucZmdDxW7bWM3YZsmVfMOQ0zZk31JsPcuQE5KKEXaW2LP38sAcvVaXM3sMrnE6iIogfVVO1pDTyQdD-zKWgHHz31hkI94NSCkYc0rAihba74efY/s2048/Town+Hall.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1698" data-original-width="2048" height="530" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghiNcxC311V_74t21bcQ0YBvg7M5PBRucZmdDxW7bWM3YZsmVfMOQ0zZk31JsPcuQE5KKEXaW2LP38sAcvVaXM3sMrnE6iIogfVVO1pDTyQdD-zKWgHHz31hkI94NSCkYc0rAihba74efY/w640-h530/Town+Hall.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>Lancaster Town Hall</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">but the bits I really enjoy might not be to everyone's taste. The use of stone, rather than brick, distinguishes Lancaster from most North-West towns and this shows particularly in the large areas of terraced housing that surround the city centre. Built mostly in the 20 years either side of the start of the 20th Century the terraces come in a wide variety of styles and sizes.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">From the larger houses of Primrose, such as these on Hope Street and Primrose Street now mainly converted to multi-occupancy properties for students</span></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLsOScHszxxy9ys2NIUIrV03eqw_XAfsuLAfUZy_6nKJEqALH4vi8rEQidEsI7z-g6i-fCTxRctJoqLhvlPMMaaM9hvR0yGVxqdp_eJPiNWNNMrDkB6o2nDSIMgfCxBeg-0FrwQADZU-x-/s2048/Hope+Street%252C+Primrose.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLsOScHszxxy9ys2NIUIrV03eqw_XAfsuLAfUZy_6nKJEqALH4vi8rEQidEsI7z-g6i-fCTxRctJoqLhvlPMMaaM9hvR0yGVxqdp_eJPiNWNNMrDkB6o2nDSIMgfCxBeg-0FrwQADZU-x-/w640-h480/Hope+Street%252C+Primrose.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>Hope Street, Primrose</i><br /><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglXRjzN5O_xqLMh-32_w4ITQkAsQsMtcYnwEBXsOxah28b-zupVdMDdsVFHTh0SwrMIN1anz91HW3tQJhj70Z_5ISX52wt8jYkZFogIPPJ8SJtZAT9Vzws0zJ-CSuF0wKt6diZZSp3wfFL/s2048/Primrose+Street%252C+Primrose.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglXRjzN5O_xqLMh-32_w4ITQkAsQsMtcYnwEBXsOxah28b-zupVdMDdsVFHTh0SwrMIN1anz91HW3tQJhj70Z_5ISX52wt8jYkZFogIPPJ8SJtZAT9Vzws0zJ-CSuF0wKt6diZZSp3wfFL/w640-h480/Primrose+Street%252C+Primrose.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>Primrose Street, Primrose</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /> to the more modest dwellings in nearby Melbourne Road (note the chimney pots - a common feature in the city's terraces)...<br /><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi13xqbR5W1ezVCM0Rjij1lx_IwUml2oiJ9WpVxylzfq1LQdNFyj9O3jqxRdAZxrt0YGSoKm7V8CiI2pEd0v_Lt4fmrNRxOuIy_3pJrwZo4mOE2NkXjR6MiLpYhhpUYkFJIPJb6F2nXfjIg/s2048/Melbourne+Road%252C+off+Moor+Gate.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi13xqbR5W1ezVCM0Rjij1lx_IwUml2oiJ9WpVxylzfq1LQdNFyj9O3jqxRdAZxrt0YGSoKm7V8CiI2pEd0v_Lt4fmrNRxOuIy_3pJrwZo4mOE2NkXjR6MiLpYhhpUYkFJIPJb6F2nXfjIg/w640-h480/Melbourne+Road%252C+off+Moor+Gate.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>Melbourne Road</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">...and on The Marsh</span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL4vVlOOzleNXCGXH-V2-W-C0htnIVDG5mmtDtFnwl95RZDmf9I__JWPoqxpsBAI8SvGJLM1eK4_7pCbqeVNSHSflSc7nEA6koBnva-oO2HpfG4YJe8B0-CnakPgGj_TWbTrq015xEW9SR/s2048/Denmark+Street%252C+Marsh.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL4vVlOOzleNXCGXH-V2-W-C0htnIVDG5mmtDtFnwl95RZDmf9I__JWPoqxpsBAI8SvGJLM1eK4_7pCbqeVNSHSflSc7nEA6koBnva-oO2HpfG4YJe8B0-CnakPgGj_TWbTrq015xEW9SR/w640-h480/Denmark+Street%252C+Marsh.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>Denmark Street, Marsh</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">Not much of Lancaster is flat, which means you get full value from your walk as far as exercise is concerned, particularly to the east of the centre in the area known officially as "Moorlands" but by many residents as "the Scottish Streets" of which one is Balmoral Road</span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmulNaZnUBVT36UA4CPhJ3cffELYpUVt8m6eISXBr3FIfNTiPIhxf5o8UV0psKhs7iUUlQY2OZDPxmkMzmxF3IAXXXBJLZEe6dFCIJxvJBpI5ZdmWWuLypIkAp_mnbg34cfLAv1HEcgn4_/s2048/Service+18++Balmoral+Road+2++6+Feb+2017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1964" data-original-width="2048" height="614" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmulNaZnUBVT36UA4CPhJ3cffELYpUVt8m6eISXBr3FIfNTiPIhxf5o8UV0psKhs7iUUlQY2OZDPxmkMzmxF3IAXXXBJLZEe6dFCIJxvJBpI5ZdmWWuLypIkAp_mnbg34cfLAv1HEcgn4_/w640-h614/Service+18++Balmoral+Road+2++6+Feb+2017.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>Balmoral Road, with a view over the city centre.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhorYCbVT0xEvQRiXMwIVWGb1Sr7rdI9nbBYU0mx9ZTgYACqpj4YunsxykcD5ZBPSSivCVVK7Iyad6muif39jFKNDo4-XVkj_oquUtbykvYJw69vsTk1d1rEUpBFbVr1-ZAyLbGp9Zxoeu-/s2048/Dorrington+Road.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhorYCbVT0xEvQRiXMwIVWGb1Sr7rdI9nbBYU0mx9ZTgYACqpj4YunsxykcD5ZBPSSivCVVK7Iyad6muif39jFKNDo4-XVkj_oquUtbykvYJw69vsTk1d1rEUpBFbVr1-ZAyLbGp9Zxoeu-/w640-h480/Dorrington+Road.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>Dorrington Road</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;">and not forgetting my home street of Dorrington Road, where the houses on the right-hand side form part of what is, according to who you listen to, the longest unbroken row of terraced houses in England, the UK, Europe or the World (there are 92 houses of which the photo shows about half).<br /></span><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p><br /></p></div></div>Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14502754753792780008noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8491197068002893936.post-89369791882118835502020-08-04T16:04:00.002+01:002020-12-27T17:43:09.051+00:00The Great North Road Bus Trip: The End, A Summary and A Comparison<div style="text-align: justify;"><b><font face="verdana">Day 7, Friday 22nd March 1991</font></b></div><div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5qr2heWSxhhltq3oavr5oD9KJPJQopVtNte6p1AfY7rexH1eyKGgpuwESJIDOGKtyuKjmIbE2qwjnDwj9aWBLLkx4Ieepi-Zo1utCr7Uzk2eA1oYU2jkX8Pr1ogX2Qjq2EVH_GdxusNt2/s2048/Stage+26.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><font face="verdana"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5qr2heWSxhhltq3oavr5oD9KJPJQopVtNte6p1AfY7rexH1eyKGgpuwESJIDOGKtyuKjmIbE2qwjnDwj9aWBLLkx4Ieepi-Zo1utCr7Uzk2eA1oYU2jkX8Pr1ogX2Qjq2EVH_GdxusNt2/s640/Stage+26.jpg" width="640" /></font></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><font face="verdana">Bus 26: Dunbar to Edinburgh</font></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana"><br /></font></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana">I completed my journey from London along the Great North Road from Dunbar on another Lowland Scottish double-decker, on service 106 leaving Dunbar High Street at 09.30 and arriving at St Andrew's Sq bus station in Edinburgh at 10.57, which is not, perhaps, the best introduction to that fair city.</font></div></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1MZB34Vyz8MN199Tw0uQXUtaeVGuzo3TLS27IY_1B4_QaVpijBic2DfR2U9X_JYT56wzVTfMaUkoqkPrEnfto97Sk7m_a1OtD-x2XEVzy-w9nhfjqNhB8YbWf8xrjrdYbU6Vx9W6dW1Ea/s2048/Stage+26+at+Edinburgh.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><font face="verdana"><img border="0" data-original-height="1352" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1MZB34Vyz8MN199Tw0uQXUtaeVGuzo3TLS27IY_1B4_QaVpijBic2DfR2U9X_JYT56wzVTfMaUkoqkPrEnfto97Sk7m_a1OtD-x2XEVzy-w9nhfjqNhB8YbWf8xrjrdYbU6Vx9W6dW1Ea/s640/Stage+26+at+Edinburgh.jpg" width="640" /></font></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><font face="verdana">Journey's End: 26 buses from London and the rather unlovely St. Andrews Sq. bus station<br /><br /></font><div style="text-align: left;"><font face="verdana">I still had to get to the Scott Monument, the notional end of the journey, but that was just a short walk away. When I got there for the obligatory photograph (but having omitted to take one at Trafalgar Square at the start) I found it covered in scaffolding and under repair.</font></div><div style="text-align: left;"><font face="verdana"><br /></font></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy-e8avTxOGST3PHiMjMXq7CwsM1jFVil0jOHaqIK3vzNg2daLLynyz3MQ5yrCl3Zly_yKgkOY3KWwZy43aGRaDYojr5Kop6ViH3ksVkLkF7ay2r4N65UUVEh0UeXbAM-R6p-JcKZl13x9/s2048/Princes+Street.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><font face="verdana"><img border="0" data-original-height="1298" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy-e8avTxOGST3PHiMjMXq7CwsM1jFVil0jOHaqIK3vzNg2daLLynyz3MQ5yrCl3Zly_yKgkOY3KWwZy43aGRaDYojr5Kop6ViH3ksVkLkF7ay2r4N65UUVEh0UeXbAM-R6p-JcKZl13x9/s640/Princes+Street.jpg" width="640" /></font></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><font face="verdana"> The Scott Monument (under cover) and some nice Edinburgh buses in Princes Street</font></div><div style="text-align: center;"><font face="verdana"><br /></font></div><div style="text-align: left;"><font face="verdana">The fare from Dunbar added £2.05 to the total cost of the journey from London, bringing that to £45.20 although I could have reduced that by £2.50 by buying an Explorer ticket in Whitby rather than at Middlesbrough. I found later that this was roughly equivalent to the single train fare between the two capitals at that time.</font></div><div style="text-align: left;"><font face="verdana"><br /></font></div><h3 style="text-align: left;"><font face="verdana" size="3">Summary</font></h3><div style="text-align: left;"><font face="verdana"><br /></font></div><div style="text-align: left;"><font face="verdana">I'd ridden on 26 buses: Twelve double-deckers, eight single-deckers with "coach-type" seating, three ordinary single deckers and three minibuses. I'd travelled on the buses of the following companies:</font></div><div style="text-align: left;"><font face="verdana">London Buses</font></div><div style="text-align: left;"><font face="verdana">Welwyn Hatfield Line</font></div><div style="text-align: left;"><font face="verdana">United Counties</font></div><div style="text-align: left;"><font face="verdana">Viscount Bus & Coach</font></div><div style="text-align: left;"><font face="verdana">Lincolnshire Road Car</font></div><div style="text-align: left;"><font face="verdana">Leon Motors</font></div><div style="text-align: left;"><font face="verdana">Selby & District</font></div><div style="text-align: left;"><font face="verdana">Yorkshire Coastliner</font></div><div style="text-align: left;"><font face="verdana">Tees & District</font></div><div style="text-align: left;"><font face="verdana">Northumbria Buses and</font></div><div style="text-align: left;"><font face="verdana">Lowland Scottish</font></div><div style="text-align: left;"><font face="verdana">In 2020, f these, only Yorkshire Coastliner exists in a recognisable form, albeit in French ownership. Some of the others still exist as legal entities but with different trading names. The private contractors that run London's buses also do so in a way that requires them to adopt a common identity that would be recognisable to the traveller in 1991.</font></div><div style="text-align: left;"><font face="verdana">Every bus ran within five minutes of its booked time. There was some trouble with a sticking door at Grantham and a temporary loss of air pressure (for the brakes) at Newcastle but otherwise no breakdowns, no accidents and no ticket inspection (becasue one of the first things the privatised bus companies did was to sack all the imspectors and rely on better records from electronic ticket machines to protect revenue). The buses were generally not very well used and only once did I have to share a double-seat. Parcels (once a significant traffic on rural buses) were being carried between Alnwick and Berwick and, apart from the London Routemaster, all fares were collected by the driver.</font></div><font face="verdana"><br /></font></td></tr></tbody></table><h3 style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana" size="3">Replicating the Trip Today</font></h3><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana">What, I wondered, would it be like replicating the trip today? For a start, the planning would be much easier. Bus timetables are now widely available on the internet and the whole trip could have been planned well before setting off, having excercised appropriate caution however, as - believe it or not - not everything on the internet is true or even up-to-date.</font></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana"><br /></font></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana">Having planned the buses, I could have just as easily booked the accommodation. In fact, I would have been wise (in pre-Covid times) to have done so. Because it's so easy to do, it has become the norm and consequently it has become much more difficult to just turn up somewhere and find a bed for the night. Some proprietors will even refuse a room to "walk-ups" as they feel there is something suspicious about people who have not booked in advance.</font></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana"><br /></font></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana">And how about the buses themselves? Bus travel has been in steady decline for many years. How easy would it be to make the trip 29 years on. The existance of online journey planners such as Traveline allows a comparison to be made, although during the current Covid-19 pandemic services are not running at "normal" levels and are changing more frequently. </font></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana"><br /></font></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana">Entering "London to Edinburgh" into a serach engine and specifying "bus only" would probably cause it to blow a fuse and certainly wouldn't result in an answer. But by breaking the journey down into its component parts I have been able to make some interesting comparisons.</font></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana"><br /></font></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana"><b>Day One.</b></font></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana">In 1991 I left Trafalgar Square at 10.00 and travelled via North Finchley, Potters Bar, Welwyn Garden City, Hitchin and Biggleswade to arrive Bedford at 17.15 (although the Biggleswade diversion was optional).</font></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana">In 2020 Traveline suggested a route via Holloway, Barnet, St. Albans and Luton getting me to Bedford much earlier at 15.24, which would probably mean that I wouldn't have opted to spend the night there.</font></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana"><br /></font></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana"><b>Day Two.</b></font></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana">This was a Sunday. In 1991 I couldn't leave Bedford until 11.40 and then went via Rushden, Corby and Peterborough to Stamford arriving at 17.46</font></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana"><br /></font></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana">Thanks to Sunday opening of shops, buses now run earlier on Sunday mornings and in 2020 I could have left well before 11.40, but if I had chosen to leave at 10.57 I could have stayed on the bus through Rushden to Kettering, changing there for a bus to Corby and after a short wait, getting another to Peterbrough arriving at 15.58. My friend Janet would, however, have had to come there to pick me up as in 2020 there is no Sunday service on to Stamford.</font></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana"><br /></font></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana"><b>Day Three</b></font></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana">In 1991 I went via Grantham, Lincoln and Scunthorpe to Doncaster.</font></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana">In 2020 I would have been spared Scunthorpe, but I would have had a problem in that the buses between Stamford and Grantham now run on a "dial-a-ride" basis and require at least 24-hours notice to book a seat. Assuming I had been able to get over this hurdle I could have left at 08.25 (35 minutes earlier than in 1991) and still gone via Grantham and Lincoln (which would still have been on "service 1" as it was 29 years ago) . From Lincoln, Traveline would send me via Gainsborough rather than Scunthorpe to Doncaster and consequently got me there much earlier - at 14.55 - so I would almost certainly have continued northwards. Alternatively, had I wanted to follow the Great North Road more closely, I could have left Stamford two hours later (again assuming I could have booked a seat in advance) and gone via Grantham, Newark and Retford.</font></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana"><br /></font></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana"><b>Day Four</b></font></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana">In 1991 I had a simple journey to Whitby, changing at York and Malton.</font></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana">According to Traveline, in 2020 there are no longer any buses northward along the A1 from Doncater. An enquiry for "Doncaster to Whitby" results in a suggestion to take a taxi (but doesn't tell you how much that would cost), while even "Doncaster to York" results in a route via Barnsley and Leeds. At least from York the journey would be more familiar, with just the change at Malton and an arrival at 16.40. However, I suspect there is a problem with the data on the Traveline website for this section.</font></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana"><br /></font></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana"><b>Day Five </b></font></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana">In 1991 I took a fairly complicated route via Middlesbrough, Stockton-on-Tees, Durham and Newcastle to Morpeth, stopping there because it was too late to continue.</font></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana">In 2020 Traveline denied that it was possible to make this journey by bus and suggested another taxi. However, it also claimed it wasn't possible to get to Durham or even Middlesbrough from Whitby so there is defiinitely a data issue here.</font></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana"><br /></font></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana"><b>Day Six</b></font></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana">Day six was an example of where it is actually much easier to make a bus journey today than almost thirty years ago.</font></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana">In 1991 I left Morpeth at 0920 and trundled around the coast to Alnwick where I waited over an hour for a connection to Berwick arriving at 12.45. </font></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana">In 2020 I could leave Morpeth five minutes earlier on a through bus to Berwick along the Great North Road and be there for 10.57. This would have meant that I'd have had time to have a good look around the town and then continue, two hours later, via Galashiels to Edinburgh where I'd have arrived at 16.57 and a day earlier than in 1991. On the other hand, if I'd really wanted to visit Dunbar, where I stayed overnight in 1991, I could only have done so by travelling via Edinburgh anyway, so I wouldn't have bothered.</font></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana"><br /></font></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana"><b>Cost?</b></font></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana"><br /></font></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana">The bus industry keeps its fares a closely-guarded secret online so it's not possible to say what the cost of such a journey would be today, although for me one of the few benefits of being 29 years older is that, apart from the section north of Berwick and the odd pre-0930 start, my bus pass means that it wouldn't cost me anything at all.</font></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana"><br /></font></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><font face="verdana">It's reassuring to know that even after 29 years of change - and unfortunately overall decline - of the bus industry in the UK that it is still possible to make journeys such as this, as long as you don't need to be in Stamford on a Sunday or go directly from Berwick to Dunbar. Who knows, when all this pandemic business is over with I might go and do it again - this time in the other direction perhaps.</font></div>Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14502754753792780008noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8491197068002893936.post-73275093216610179192020-12-21T16:13:00.005+00:002020-12-21T16:15:36.838+00:00Fiftieth Anniversary - Of my first canal holiday.<p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I missed it at the time, but 19th to 26th September 2020 marked the fiftieth anniversary of my first canal holiday. Not quite my first ride on a canal boat - that was a few years earlier when some lovely boaters recognised the obvious interest of teenage lad hanging around the top of the Wolverhampton 21 in the hope of seeing a boat descend, invited him on board and took him as far as Autherley Junction where I reluctantly left them because in those days the Shroppie seemed to disappear off into deep countryside from there and I was worried about getting back. (I didn't know the area - I was on my summer holidays!).</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Anyway, back in 1970 I had just completed my first year at university and managed to persuade one of my new student friends and an old mate from school to accompany me on a hire boat holiday on the Grand Union Canal.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGf9dm_Qq-wo9ctmokgHxWny4cC0jpR35CWYUDsqmPIo4JqflUrkCy-bP_rdgFamfIjPPX_tNQCXnAfcSdIkDWJIhAU0qY3ypIM77C1YSM5wbqpmBnk_QJ3xoOcg12uey1xYtejVHl3P3e/s1860/Pic276+%25282%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1147" data-original-width="1860" height="394" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGf9dm_Qq-wo9ctmokgHxWny4cC0jpR35CWYUDsqmPIo4JqflUrkCy-bP_rdgFamfIjPPX_tNQCXnAfcSdIkDWJIhAU0qY3ypIM77C1YSM5wbqpmBnk_QJ3xoOcg12uey1xYtejVHl3P3e/w640-h394/Pic276+%25282%2529.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The original caption says "south of Cowroast" but I have my doubts.<br /> Note the coal train with brake van in the background!<br /></span><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;">I have no records of the trip other than a few photographs. The first was taken by my new university mate and shows the rest of the crew (I'm the one with the hair - well it was 1970!). I had hoped to be able to show a present day photo of the location from Street View, but the relative positions of the towpath and the railway line are wrong, and the boat would be pointing the wrong way so I suspect it may be somewhere further north. I do have a record that the trip was "From Berkhamsted to Long Buckby via Foxton and Coventry" but what I don't have is a note of the hire company. The clues are there in the hand-over points and the boat name if anyone wants to try and work it out.</span><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF_nV8pmRFG6ymov0m0FMb__DLmauPrRsJ8HW9ZDUQoF_z7cIVWDLuTKVJfZx92TlIBmiJa6uBhiV2eXVErNZFg0hs39xYXY4SOkRT3zKc4y5K4OWBA7QWNj6gC7jJ38jJFiwvUP8gpf2U/s1765/Pic276.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1219" data-original-width="1765" height="442" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF_nV8pmRFG6ymov0m0FMb__DLmauPrRsJ8HW9ZDUQoF_z7cIVWDLuTKVJfZx92TlIBmiJa6uBhiV2eXVErNZFg0hs39xYXY4SOkRT3zKc4y5K4OWBA7QWNj6gC7jJ38jJFiwvUP8gpf2U/w640-h442/Pic276.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Stoke Bruerne</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">We were all novices, although I had mugged-up on the theory but I don't recall any problems. In those days the canals were quiet in September and I think this shot of Stoke Bruerne locks captures the lonely and somewhat melancholy atmosphere that so attracted me to the cut in the first place.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYmFAxB-WUQew8E8jMEOaAowlv4U6nMAaWzEcXDaDegovzgz9iCsVuvmbquWkDJ-E-r8KjVNse-849RqsU-hdrRf-1miLHaVCs58LGfjE-_ZrQdb7YQ2EVRGgbibNCsYnYn7veMYOzUeLA/s1764/Pic277.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1185" data-original-width="1764" height="430" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYmFAxB-WUQew8E8jMEOaAowlv4U6nMAaWzEcXDaDegovzgz9iCsVuvmbquWkDJ-E-r8KjVNse-849RqsU-hdrRf-1miLHaVCs58LGfjE-_ZrQdb7YQ2EVRGgbibNCsYnYn7veMYOzUeLA/w640-h430/Pic277.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">A very quiet Foxton flight</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br />I don't know whether the hire company expected its clients to take a week getting to Long Buckby but that obviously wasn't far enough for us and we continued firstly to the top of Foxton locks, which were similarly deserted, and then back to the Oxford Canal and on to Hawkesbury Junction continuing down to Coventry basin before retracing our steps to Long Buckby.<br /><br /><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAUB4ZkuqVaGoR8et1c-R2bqO584HHi_PRSwpEFXKiAWjtyA9Wi82IqrwniCMQBUY1pPagTTvv-YBUX2uOqtW8iYzyLBjtjdoceJV_silKzt2eNyiuCu3RUezOIUDVtTNkwosaj2KvOTlk/s1775/Pic277+%25282%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1242" data-original-width="1775" height="448" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAUB4ZkuqVaGoR8et1c-R2bqO584HHi_PRSwpEFXKiAWjtyA9Wi82IqrwniCMQBUY1pPagTTvv-YBUX2uOqtW8iYzyLBjtjdoceJV_silKzt2eNyiuCu3RUezOIUDVtTNkwosaj2KvOTlk/w640-h448/Pic277+%25282%2529.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Hotel boats on the Leicester Section</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">My only disappointment was that we didn't see any working boats on the move. I suppose we were just too late for that. In fact we saw very few other moving boats as I recall, although we did pass a pair of hotel boats (names not recorded I'm afraid) on the Leicester Section.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">As far as I know, neither of my companions ever ventured onto the cut again, but I spent most of the following academic year helping to revive the university Inland Waterways Society which had become dormant when the founder members lost interest. This was successful and next year will mark another fiftieth anniversary - that of the first Salford University Inland Waterways Society Boat Trip - when we hired "Grebe" and "Teal" from Willow Wren in Rugby for a week's trip around what is now known as the Warwickshire Ring (plus a side trip to Coventry basin as I enjoyed it so much the previous time).</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">Several of the original crew intend to mark the event with a re-creation. Willow Wren Hire Cruisers are still around and we've even managed to hire "Grebe" again, although it's not the same boat! The date is necessarily flexible at this stage. We have a provisional booking for April with an increasingly-likely fall-back option of October. (The 1971 trip was over the Christmas/New Year week). The route will be the same, with the exception of the start, when we apparently got as far as Brinklow on the first afternoon then changed our minds and reversed direction to do the ring clockwise instead, although nobody can remember why!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;">No doubt I'll blog about it at the time.<br /></span><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p></div>Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14502754753792780008noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8491197068002893936.post-64378543793704866802020-10-20T20:54:00.000+01:002020-10-20T20:54:44.594+01:00On the Austrian Straight and Narrow: Final Part<p style="text-align: justify;"><b> <span style="font-family: verdana;">Thursday-Friday, 12/13th August 1982</span></b></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">No need for a map for the first part of today's travels. I'd planned to end my holiday with a few days in Vienna (Wien) to sample the delights of the Austrian capital. I left Graz at 09.12 on an "Eilzug" (semi-fast) to Bruck an der Mur, changing there onto the "Carinthia" express along the Sudbahn to Wien and arriving mid-morning.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Wien has a whole host of tourist attractions and I was determined to see them all: - the S-Bahn, the U-Bahn, the Lokalbahn, the Stadtbahn and the double-decker buses, which the city is one of few outside the UK to have.</span></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibej27JVyQOvvm06RvqPQ_oQCIhq6jAFGltmUiMyKuF41oTgyHn9UxfHstVTn8Gwf8NcDbAgqeLr0rLiLTxgIGAJmteYV82mNujZGbibsjDhPfvT3XCSyKgA-jfuEUij9CrFURFD2rZpKV/s1993/Prater%252C+Wien++Aug+1982.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1187" data-original-width="1993" height="382" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibej27JVyQOvvm06RvqPQ_oQCIhq6jAFGltmUiMyKuF41oTgyHn9UxfHstVTn8Gwf8NcDbAgqeLr0rLiLTxgIGAJmteYV82mNujZGbibsjDhPfvT3XCSyKgA-jfuEUij9CrFURFD2rZpKV/w640-h382/Prater%252C+Wien++Aug+1982.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>Trams in Wien</i><br /><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p style="text-align: justify;"><i><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></i></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY-NLKJKU7tKD33nfTfTTbDvsKlvJiwgspL0avw_Vr61Kcq9lzWutgwjGG0fpehHwqCo3bLDgVNGlOwGFiqXK0LC3azuq43M1YjcE1MghQji4mtC9oPlw_Ds7bXJ2YqyRjCAuaCyxhgqy8/s1599/Wien+Mitte.+S-Bahn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><i><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1081" data-original-width="1599" height="432" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY-NLKJKU7tKD33nfTfTTbDvsKlvJiwgspL0avw_Vr61Kcq9lzWutgwjGG0fpehHwqCo3bLDgVNGlOwGFiqXK0LC3azuq43M1YjcE1MghQji4mtC9oPlw_Ds7bXJ2YqyRjCAuaCyxhgqy8/w640-h432/Wien+Mitte.+S-Bahn.jpg" width="640" /></span></i></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: verdana;">The S-Bahn at Wien Mitte</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></span><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwvBCAmfgaLMIrUnntk5OpIzcSqquW7S0YaYp3te-6BYY2X5TrTVU57APg071KXlE_tmvWt8g6UuWlXO_YzBGSZPbOVddr15VHoKGPEtVVvjp3hyphenhyphenv5RMJKxOb3oilMlnrHkUs3uisxo6cf/s2048/Wiener+Lokalbahn+trams+in+city+centre.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1344" data-original-width="2048" height="420" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwvBCAmfgaLMIrUnntk5OpIzcSqquW7S0YaYp3te-6BYY2X5TrTVU57APg071KXlE_tmvWt8g6UuWlXO_YzBGSZPbOVddr15VHoKGPEtVVvjp3hyphenhyphenv5RMJKxOb3oilMlnrHkUs3uisxo6cf/w640-h420/Wiener+Lokalbahn+trams+in+city+centre.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: verdana;">The Wiener Lokalbahn - an interurban tramway</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></span><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5miOBAv9NSdnsEUG1bCFJADmmNKK_0QLrf8OM0ebhEmup1gxaery5hgCSc_Ks2FWtq9bfBlQKdA2CZskb-ZuaDN4W3N35PhHZGWfN_sI8ER7ljPC93Mx5-jroVslsDkr9370AMS26AgXb/s2048/Wiener+Lokalbahn%252C+Wien+.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1215" data-original-width="2048" height="380" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5miOBAv9NSdnsEUG1bCFJADmmNKK_0QLrf8OM0ebhEmup1gxaery5hgCSc_Ks2FWtq9bfBlQKdA2CZskb-ZuaDN4W3N35PhHZGWfN_sI8ER7ljPC93Mx5-jroVslsDkr9370AMS26AgXb/w640-h380/Wiener+Lokalbahn%252C+Wien+.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: verdana;">Another view of the Lokalbahn</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><i><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div></i><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZkoAn5GmEV5JfWIrI2KkmxZVuxftn92_mc1elaVZPHg8obUbupRo5KleLaYQas3gcwDoO4fp2NwQ1_9CM7_hIt8lqGtLSlfgll7bLHuLSKBJdVDXP50caGC-Omdb-52oS3wc9UB0WHIoM/s2048/Wiener+Stadtbahn+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1388" data-original-width="2048" height="434" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZkoAn5GmEV5JfWIrI2KkmxZVuxftn92_mc1elaVZPHg8obUbupRo5KleLaYQas3gcwDoO4fp2NwQ1_9CM7_hIt8lqGtLSlfgll7bLHuLSKBJdVDXP50caGC-Omdb-52oS3wc9UB0WHIoM/w640-h434/Wiener+Stadtbahn+3.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: verdana;">The Stadtbahn (City Railway)</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></span><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWFo93bXh9D7WnQPILoD8YDDOWDpRq5t6aYDTSOCNAn1JcOVhIl0sysvFY5rE6PmtxQSpLZwPwHHvOStghofDV2Jd9uXBVtLTpf-kwfwLdqa0EmApQQwzZs2V5bUeJM2ApTdx2yiU5VXi4/s2048/Wien+Sudbahnhof.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1340" data-original-width="2048" height="418" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWFo93bXh9D7WnQPILoD8YDDOWDpRq5t6aYDTSOCNAn1JcOVhIl0sysvFY5rE6PmtxQSpLZwPwHHvOStghofDV2Jd9uXBVtLTpf-kwfwLdqa0EmApQQwzZs2V5bUeJM2ApTdx2yiU5VXi4/w640-h418/Wien+Sudbahnhof.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: verdana;">A double-decker at the Sudbahnhof</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">According to the diary I don't seem to have done anything else in Wien, although I must have had a bite to eat somewhere before joining the "Wien - Oostende Express" that was due to leave the Westbahnhof at 20.50, but was delayed by 20 minutes awaiting the through carriages from Budapest that were running late, despite having an hour's recovery time at Wien!</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The "Wien-Oostende" was one of a huge number of international overnight trains that ran throughout Europe in those days. The advent of low-cost airlines put an end to most of them in the early part of this century, although in more recent years a revival has begun led by the Austrian State Railways.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Taken from a slightly earlier Thomas Cook timetable here (on page 468!) is the route and schedule of the Wien-Oostende Express:</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaOlxTD-bn0WshboMbLWImI4u8FxbumZw4j1pkLezz2lshcqwNfW6pzF1PC8rz-XVlrsPtxr8t_PQsoUn7ewNU0wcJ8Y6kJ1gQyz4go5_DMWh8bCsSKgriYLyKMO4xaMcjstqcS9XTnso6/s1486/img280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1486" data-original-width="1229" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaOlxTD-bn0WshboMbLWImI4u8FxbumZw4j1pkLezz2lshcqwNfW6pzF1PC8rz-XVlrsPtxr8t_PQsoUn7ewNU0wcJ8Y6kJ1gQyz4go5_DMWh8bCsSKgriYLyKMO4xaMcjstqcS9XTnso6/w530-h640/img280.jpg" width="530" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">As with all the international trains that terminated at Oostende, a casual glance at the timetable suggests a through train to London, with no mention of the need to change to a ferry between Oostende and Dover! I suppose that in those days it was a reasonable assumption that "everyone knew"! You also have to look closely to ascertain that the portion of the train that starts at Budapest goes only as far as Köln (Cologne) and that there is apparently no catering on board between the "light refreshments" car coming off at Passau and the Restaurant Car joining at Frankfurt. Presumably, some people would find it important to know that the through carriages and couchettes are "Austrian" rather than German or Belgian, although the nationality of the sleeping cars isn't divulged.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Brussels</span></b></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The original plan was to take full advantage of the flexibility of rail travel to alight in Brussels at 1222, where Mark was going to come from London - on the Jetfoil - and join me for a pub crawl. But with the wisdom tooth troubling me, at some stage during the previous few days I had decided to cancel this arrangement and come straight home. Even though I was now feeling very little pain in my mouth I was too tired to change my plans again. Of the previous ten nights only one could be described as "a quiet night in" and I had done a lot of travelling. Instead I rode through to Oostende and joined the "Prins Albert" for a crossing that I noted as "fairly rough in poor weather" and with "the usual chaos in getting off the boat at Dover", which I think refers to the practice of requiring all foot passengers to leave the boat via a single gangway on to the quayside where priority was given to cars coming off the boat from the car decks.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Mark met me at Victoria, where I arrived seventeen minutes late (a three minute improvement on our departure from Wien!) and I stayed at his flat in Tooting that night, but only after "a pub crawl of the west end"!</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>THE END.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Except that tucked away at the back of the notebook is section on "the cost of the holiday"</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The Austria Ticket, that I used for travel around the country cost £51.40</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Train and Couchette tickets from Dover to Feldkirch and</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Wien to Ostende came to £111.00</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The coach from London to Dover was £3.50</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">and the return train was £7.00 showing that I didn't buy through tickets from London after all.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Travel Costs therefore came to £172.90</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Seven nights in hotels in Jenbach, Salzburg, Graz and Linz cost a total of £65 (so not exactly 5-Star then!) making the cost of the holiday (excluding meals and, er..drinks) £237.90. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">As I had been quoted £283 by the DER travel agency for putting together and booking a similar itinerary I was well pleased!</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div>Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14502754753792780008noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8491197068002893936.post-45819815556990461562020-10-19T13:05:00.001+01:002020-10-19T13:05:00.738+01:00On the Austrian Straight and Narrow Part 10<p> <b style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Wednesday, 11th August 1982</span></b></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Today's Travels</span></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbqgwr-6BM7i-bjDoO4vJVy3rL2Kjad46q6Amk232gIb4nR195fwObZF6eTdjBznlALlFy4p59DWvjJ7JusewERoScw-mqvEVon0XEWprCuZWRJc4vvgtCUAl1Ce_dI9v8VdJBaI1ZydFY/s1285/img260.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="826" data-original-width="1285" height="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbqgwr-6BM7i-bjDoO4vJVy3rL2Kjad46q6Amk232gIb4nR195fwObZF6eTdjBznlALlFy4p59DWvjJ7JusewERoScw-mqvEVon0XEWprCuZWRJc4vvgtCUAl1Ce_dI9v8VdJBaI1ZydFY/w640-h410/img260.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption"><i><span style="font-family: verdana;">From Graz (bottom centre) eastwards to Gleisdorf and north to Weiz, then Birkfeld.</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Although this holiday was about seeking out "transport oddities" in terms of location, track gauge or antiquity, I very much preferred those lines that were nevertheless fulfilling a genuine transport role. Today's journey, whilst still following that rule, also included what might be termed a "heritage" or "preserved" railway that I decided to include largely because it had had a good write-up in the "Austrian Travel Wonderland" book that had inspired me to visit Austria in the first place.</div></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">There is no mention of my emerging wisdom tooth in the diary, so I can only conclude it wasn't bothering me too much. Graz had another rail company - the "Graz-Köflacher Eisenbahn" - which was government-owned, but run separately from the ÖBB no doubt for very good historical reasons. I hadn't been able to find space in the schedule for a ride to Köflach and back but I was able to walk over to the GKE station and have a quick look around.</span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitHh0Xz2CWmDzQNYfYB0Sz4upjMl0jWmmghdsEhpeoicvr3ENYjq2xs6HFGFF3idxkNs7KpBt6bgZyLdwJLmtIocNOm5uwNOmSVJOTv7FrpS53CIS4lNPoip7Dey5CSGKpVT2I_rF4e3hk/s2048/Graz-Koflacher+Eisenbahn+railbuses+at+Graz.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1160" data-original-width="2048" height="362" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitHh0Xz2CWmDzQNYfYB0Sz4upjMl0jWmmghdsEhpeoicvr3ENYjq2xs6HFGFF3idxkNs7KpBt6bgZyLdwJLmtIocNOm5uwNOmSVJOTv7FrpS53CIS4lNPoip7Dey5CSGKpVT2I_rF4e3hk/w640-h362/Graz-Koflacher+Eisenbahn+railbuses+at+Graz.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption"><i><span style="font-family: verdana;">Graz-Köflacher Eisenbahn railbuses at Graz. I'd have loved a ride!</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Therefore, it wasn't until 11.57 that morning that I left Graz on an ÖBB local branch line train to Gleisdorf and a five-minute connection on to the Steiermärkische Landesbahn's "Weizerbahn" line and a train to Weiz. The "train" consisted of a single ancient coach hauled by a centre-cab diesel loco, which due to absence of raised platforms at the stations seemed to tower over the passengers and appeared much larger than it actually was.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBfa1VnBWnmLap3tSSwb7QPUXT5AijWiIUaDHKz4qkJ1QAFBqjjtzbFQY3jo62bLWKo1kTuPoeGLi9JCSvjvi9Ufb8Gyg4ZiTI8zxhCQScPpaNTwKMb_cMtFEfeL1id4S4fFfI_5lNM8Vm/s2048/Wiez.+StM+LBhn+train+for+Gleisdorf.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1339" data-original-width="2048" height="416" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBfa1VnBWnmLap3tSSwb7QPUXT5AijWiIUaDHKz4qkJ1QAFBqjjtzbFQY3jo62bLWKo1kTuPoeGLi9JCSvjvi9Ufb8Gyg4ZiTI8zxhCQScPpaNTwKMb_cMtFEfeL1id4S4fFfI_5lNM8Vm/w640-h416/Wiez.+StM+LBhn+train+for+Gleisdorf.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption"><i><span style="font-family: verdana;">The train from Gleisdorf after arrival at Weiz.</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The section of line on from Weiz to Birkfeld was another 760mm narrow-gauge line known as the "Feistritztalbahn". Whether it still saw a regular passenger service I'm not sure, but on the occasion of my visit I was able to catch a steam-hauled train that left Weiz at 13.20 for the 65-minute run to the end of the line at Birkfeld.</span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEFFgFSrYeKyfIgp1WVXJXh7oUAn2F5lXssnc3nQ_s54AH4oR5ynI-HD08jPYeqcF0sySUhalGgfrTNJVzO0x4idyKCAIhOB8sZAcXTJQeJfxYFIUygAv0g_bn3eBfoY-azTTOAuK_cmYo/s2048/Weiz.+Folkmusic+train+to+Birkfeld.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1351" data-original-width="2048" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEFFgFSrYeKyfIgp1WVXJXh7oUAn2F5lXssnc3nQ_s54AH4oR5ynI-HD08jPYeqcF0sySUhalGgfrTNJVzO0x4idyKCAIhOB8sZAcXTJQeJfxYFIUygAv0g_bn3eBfoY-azTTOAuK_cmYo/w640-h422/Weiz.+Folkmusic+train+to+Birkfeld.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption"><i><span style="font-family: verdana;">The "Folk Music" train to Birkfeld at Weiz.</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The target market of the line's operators was obviously a little wider than just railway enthusiasts and the trip was advertised as not just a "Dampfbummelzug" (slow, steam tourist train) but also a "Folk Music Train", which meant live Austrian accordian music and folk singing, with which all the children on the train happily joined in! The Austria Ticket was definitely not accepted on the Feistritztalbahn and the round trip set me back 90 schillings, which easily converted to £4/10/- in old English money. </span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOAEL-bW9V3GivEGQxP3l7S2dU0GFOdD3st0GIt3pcscD0UCp1pRi5AuemNhvEbW0WEmHBvmhRBN947qiXgQUWCweAAh5Grh8rRawRfhgEKZTFRCEg_S1mkoyihQSF19StfInMj_zmaPn8/s1855/Feistritztalbahn.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="1855" height="470" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOAEL-bW9V3GivEGQxP3l7S2dU0GFOdD3st0GIt3pcscD0UCp1pRi5AuemNhvEbW0WEmHBvmhRBN947qiXgQUWCweAAh5Grh8rRawRfhgEKZTFRCEg_S1mkoyihQSF19StfInMj_zmaPn8/w640-h470/Feistritztalbahn.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption"><i><span style="font-family: verdana;">Leaving Weiz for Birkfeld</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The timetable allowed two hours at Birkfeld and most of the passengers decamped to one of the many restaurants in and around the station for a meal, although I settled once again for a picnic sourced from a local shop.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I've no idea what I did with the rest of my time at Birkfeld. There was the option of getting a post bus directly back to Graz, which despite not leaving until 1655 would have got me back earlier, but in the end I chose to return by steam train and back the way I'd come. The Landesbahn train from Weiz had gained a few freight wagons to add to its single coach and was now running as a "mixed train" (passenger and freight) and after changing back onto the ÖBB at Gleisdorf I was back in Graz by early evening.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><span style="font-family: verdana;">to be continued...</span></i></div><div><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p></div>Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14502754753792780008noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8491197068002893936.post-21858179561595731392020-10-18T15:26:00.001+01:002020-10-18T15:26:00.434+01:00On the Austrian Straight and Narrow Part 9<p style="text-align: justify;"><b> <span style="font-family: verdana;">Tuesday, 10th August 1982</span></b></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Today's Travels:</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Today's journeys cross the page in the atlas and Blogger won't let me align them correctly. The journey starts on the right hand map.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4f4BvCPAlRDpQXW-OsglgyV4orfnIH4vFZ0OWZ7aUMamnpE_Q15lS3eo_bLAx7j4Xfo-IyFWG6t5iU-p_cIPNX36umB4VzYKVIvXtm8v7bYXRrsUtUtyVXnz87x6Fi5JXAOShPWomSmur/s1532/img259.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1532" data-original-width="1477" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4f4BvCPAlRDpQXW-OsglgyV4orfnIH4vFZ0OWZ7aUMamnpE_Q15lS3eo_bLAx7j4Xfo-IyFWG6t5iU-p_cIPNX36umB4VzYKVIvXtm8v7bYXRrsUtUtyVXnz87x6Fi5JXAOShPWomSmur/w286-h320/img259.jpg" width="286" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqoboEAJ9d_lr3EXEE0b7U6_Zf2TSJP7vhMhjegZYX8zGpOytQ12GyAqHFMfGegq5ym3slm_7PElOJF1uUsd3RqG2B52XrNuMoQTNQF9PoaPpbvlAnye01icqQv1X9UTHKLVZgrmxxE5dV/s1671/img258.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1305" data-original-width="1671" height="274" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqoboEAJ9d_lr3EXEE0b7U6_Zf2TSJP7vhMhjegZYX8zGpOytQ12GyAqHFMfGegq5ym3slm_7PElOJF1uUsd3RqG2B52XrNuMoQTNQF9PoaPpbvlAnye01icqQv1X9UTHKLVZgrmxxE5dV/w300-h274/img258.jpg" width="300" /></a></div></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><i><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><span style="font-family: verdana;">Starting on the right-hand map, I went north from Graz (middle-right) to Bruck-an-der-Mur and then west to Unzmarkt (middle-left). Continuing westwards over the page to Tamsweg and returning via the same routes to Graz.</span></i></div></i><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Although the pain in my gums was still there I decided it could be tolerated enough to enjoy another day's travels and so was down at the Hauptbahnhof in Graz for 08.20 to catch the <i>"Robert Stoltz"</i>, another of the ÖBB's named expresses,<i> (I looked him up: he was a composer, songwriter and conductor, born in Graz in 1880)</i>, which would take me back north to Bruck an der Mur, although this time on the rails rather than the road. We left on time, but somehow contrived to lose ten minutes on the way to Bruck. Fortunately, I still managed to make the connection onto the 09.08 to Unzmarkt, the highlight of that part of the journey being the 5,460m Galgelberg tunnel.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Unzmarkt was - and still is - the junction for the Murtalbahn and another new operator for me - the Steiermärkische Landesbahn, or Styrian Government Railway. The Murtalbahn was another 760mm line and my train was formed of an almost brand-new diesel railcar.</span></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgERY3MrYIdIjAIwPP0y9LLVvehDhGofcd4e8ISWkHzFIsXeCKTP9NkWdYzUQ-pqyzbu2sg8SQL1M_qhrwOTYtXXRTOhmm3PZiTjaKvB9_Uu9rclyGwgJ1TRQDqDeF0kYlaMyvr2xpPrsPD/s2048/Unzmarkt.+DMU+for+Tamsweg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1341" data-original-width="2048" height="420" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgERY3MrYIdIjAIwPP0y9LLVvehDhGofcd4e8ISWkHzFIsXeCKTP9NkWdYzUQ-pqyzbu2sg8SQL1M_qhrwOTYtXXRTOhmm3PZiTjaKvB9_Uu9rclyGwgJ1TRQDqDeF0kYlaMyvr2xpPrsPD/w640-h420/Unzmarkt.+DMU+for+Tamsweg.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: verdana;">The Steiermärkische Landesbahn train for Tamsweg at Unzmarket<br /><br /></span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div style="text-align: justify;">The diary doesn't record it, but it appears from the photo I took (above) that this train was being operated on a "pay as you enter" basis. (You can see the driver sitting facing the boarding passengers and collecting fares). The modern-day timetable for the line shows 34 stations. There would have been at least that number in 1982 and we stopped at all of them, with the pay-as-you enter system no doubt contributing to the 100+ minute running time. My plan for the day shows that by leaving Unzmarkt on the 10.20 departure I had a choice of breaking my journey at Murau, either on the way up the valley or on the way back down.</div></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">As Murau was the headquarters and main depot for the Murtalbahn I assumed there would be more to see there than at Tamsweg, so I opted to ride to the end of the line initially and break my journey on the way back, even though this meant I would only have eight minutes at Tamsweg.</span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaFKaKZlzxSaqn4od5Ba6AC4GHO8JuHFzUFpvAOEk8lE3DZ5OpdUZqfFOzNbeQ64xx4hOSlqxggznXns6EFkZZKT6YejqYQToTHtXBXllof7szVCRMeT3mk0kSBsMYyIqiivrtoNmHIFns/s2048/Tamsweg+station..jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1319" data-original-width="2048" height="412" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaFKaKZlzxSaqn4od5Ba6AC4GHO8JuHFzUFpvAOEk8lE3DZ5OpdUZqfFOzNbeQ64xx4hOSlqxggznXns6EFkZZKT6YejqYQToTHtXBXllof7szVCRMeT3mk0kSBsMYyIqiivrtoNmHIFns/w640-h412/Tamsweg+station..jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: verdana;">After arrival at Tamsweg<br /><br /></span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div style="text-align: justify;">I thought it was a reasonable assumption that the railcar that arrived at Tamsweg at 12.02 would be the same one that operated the 12.10 back to Murau, so I was a bit surprised that after unloading the passengers it disappeared into the shed at the far end of the station. With departure time fast approaching it showed no sign of returning and I suddenly realised that I was the only person on the station actually waiting for it! A quick perusal of the timetable confirmed my suspicions: the 12.10 was only a train on Saturdays. On other days of the week the service was provided by a rail replacement bus! I dashed outside just in time to see a bus, well loaded with passengers, leaving the station forecourt - and leaving me stranded in Tamsweg!</div></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">It was at least two hours before the next train, so I thought I'd walk into the town centre to see if there was any other way of getting away from Tamsweg. To my surprise, I came across what I'm fairly sure was the same bus waiting at a bus stop and now clearly displaying a destination board "Murau". It appeared that my Austria Ticket couldn't be accepted on the bus and a single to Murau cost me 54 schillings but at least it put me back on schedule.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">That schedule allowed me a couple of hours at Murau, which turned out to be well worthwhile. </span><span style="font-family: verdana;">I hadn't noticed when planning my itinerary but on certain days of the week the Steiermärkische Landesbahn operated special steam excursions between Murau and Tamsweg and today was one of those days. Not only that, but I was just in time to witness the departure of the 13.45.</span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Ww2ADlru-uRuGsshQX1OS6b_fzK1PeTYxBdRpkIqBFcbrkHffYDLYK8vd0IyBlZUKWLjHc2P8aIZlrAQwvXmt8zMeCAyDYa-tdXE364ln7S1oOkwbEaFXtX_PldlCxNXcggvhr4Q_QOw/s2048/Murau%252C+Murtalbahn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1347" data-original-width="2048" height="420" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Ww2ADlru-uRuGsshQX1OS6b_fzK1PeTYxBdRpkIqBFcbrkHffYDLYK8vd0IyBlZUKWLjHc2P8aIZlrAQwvXmt8zMeCAyDYa-tdXE364ln7S1oOkwbEaFXtX_PldlCxNXcggvhr4Q_QOw/w640-h420/Murau%252C+Murtalbahn.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: verdana;">The steam special for Tamsweg leaving Murau.</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I'm not sure why I didn't actually ride on it. It might have been because I'd already been to Tamsweg or perhaps because by the time it got back to Murau I would have been struggling with connections back to Graz. Or, of course, it might have been because the Austria Ticket wasn't valid on specials and I was too mean to pay the extra fare. After all, I had just spent an unnecessary 54 schillings on the bus!</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">But there were plenty of things to see and do in Murau and I even managed to wander around the depot and take photographs, although I don't remember asking anyone permission.</span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOxkAbRngc4V_bjU7LQJvCG4AS1L8auNgBwNETuzjThjp8HZs8NoWf_KJLg5jHMG2sdzlYCCBBZ7Vb_LAs54i2u7UwDdN3cGkOOzgBFSbgqzAS6J7PVcbziUkargMoV9x7O4-z3MmhL2V7/s2048/Murau+shed.+Murtalbahn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1150" data-original-width="2048" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOxkAbRngc4V_bjU7LQJvCG4AS1L8auNgBwNETuzjThjp8HZs8NoWf_KJLg5jHMG2sdzlYCCBBZ7Vb_LAs54i2u7UwDdN3cGkOOzgBFSbgqzAS6J7PVcbziUkargMoV9x7O4-z3MmhL2V7/w640-h360/Murau+shed.+Murtalbahn.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: verdana;">Inside the depot at Murau</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">At 15.36 another railcar took me back to Unzmarkt for my connection to Bruck an der Mur, where I had a 25 minute wait for a train back to Graz.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">This was a stopper, so the plan contained an option to alight at Peggau-Deutschfeistritz "to see the Steiermärkische Landesbahn branch line train to Ubelbach", as the diary puts it. The plan didn't allow for the possibility of actually going to Ubelbach - perhaps the times didn't work (it was an hour's ride each way) - but it seems that I couldn't resist the temptation to get out and have a look! I wasn't disappointed.</span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhutM9b8XlA5Uu1IrqF8o-vszRP2w7arykaXHeuct2fNOaYuX26n3UQq3MbeBHiYjPZ90zK1B0RZ8nUHgPFZvlIsNLp2vkWynyqG2Y9dbmfeuSOKjYkiupjIJffh-fIFf828EFyJym_6xkt/s2048/Railcar+at+Peggau-Deutschfreistitz..jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1344" data-original-width="2048" height="420" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhutM9b8XlA5Uu1IrqF8o-vszRP2w7arykaXHeuct2fNOaYuX26n3UQq3MbeBHiYjPZ90zK1B0RZ8nUHgPFZvlIsNLp2vkWynyqG2Y9dbmfeuSOKjYkiupjIJffh-fIFf828EFyJym_6xkt/w640-h420/Railcar+at+Peggau-Deutschfreistitz..jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: verdana;">The railcar for Ubelbach at Peggau Deutschfeistritz</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">At some stage during the day I'd decided that the pain in my mouth was probably a wisdom tooth and that if I could just get some painkillers to keep me going for a day or two it would probably take care of itself. Looking up the words for "have you got anything to stop my toothache" in my pocket dictionary I went to a chemist and was satisfied to come away with a packet of aspirin - although the pharmacist's subsidiary question of "do you want some with or without Vitamin C?" rather confused me. (I opted for "with" on the basis that every little helps).</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The aspirin worked well enough to allow me an evening out in Graz watching the trams. There seemed to be two lines in the city centre: One operated by modern two-car bogie trams</span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilWjxxvC1axOqHNHdkJ_4ftg-j6KDI2du7ChnqNKSy8IlBpoLRgqaZv_46lbjn1OJ9v5nqyhcEllhKEa_3HedweSpHlFj2q8lQkHNDx_Pqr0hpfY8RVBrLLbTUR_MeukXfbXnPx7kNNcLj/s2048/2-car+bogie+set+in+city+centre.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1339" data-original-width="2048" height="418" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilWjxxvC1axOqHNHdkJ_4ftg-j6KDI2du7ChnqNKSy8IlBpoLRgqaZv_46lbjn1OJ9v5nqyhcEllhKEa_3HedweSpHlFj2q8lQkHNDx_Pqr0hpfY8RVBrLLbTUR_MeukXfbXnPx7kNNcLj/w640-h418/2-car+bogie+set+in+city+centre.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: verdana;">Modern two-car bogie tram on line 1</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">and the other run by much more interesting four-wheelers, some of which hauled trailers.</span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Q3SbW5iNRcrZZRksThmiuGxQ1xCuZVYhseYe__v5Ou3SHjFjlgqnKxmyTDOQmAaDi8sx1XIwxHnZ42KTPVQy6IPLxxyLQF5fdC8p5Jz2G0OHgWJ_VsrNk8aGG7ZDgR3Cu__A1ZPSuLJE/s2048/Graz.+4-wheeler+tram.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1302" data-original-width="2048" height="406" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Q3SbW5iNRcrZZRksThmiuGxQ1xCuZVYhseYe__v5Ou3SHjFjlgqnKxmyTDOQmAaDi8sx1XIwxHnZ42KTPVQy6IPLxxyLQF5fdC8p5Jz2G0OHgWJ_VsrNk8aGG7ZDgR3Cu__A1ZPSuLJE/w640-h406/Graz.+4-wheeler+tram.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: verdana;">Four-wheeler car operating an "Extra" (E)<br /><br /><br /></span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></span><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTHoWvVbY2gRNTBL_IpCk-dBdx9YiemMy89Sc6lcDTUTZH_H0EXYTpQPChrm-Vn8ZGdHii2M4JYnD4aSmYsanlux584zkJJeuSxGQAOhw4dIkgdPwvKeCcHHJwVWrl7FkbHBDWjieQwN6C/s2048/Graz.+4-wheeler+tram+and+trailer+.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1329" data-original-width="2048" height="416" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTHoWvVbY2gRNTBL_IpCk-dBdx9YiemMy89Sc6lcDTUTZH_H0EXYTpQPChrm-Vn8ZGdHii2M4JYnD4aSmYsanlux584zkJJeuSxGQAOhw4dIkgdPwvKeCcHHJwVWrl7FkbHBDWjieQwN6C/w640-h416/Graz.+4-wheeler+tram+and+trailer+.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">And one with a trailer on line 4</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Two tram lines met in the city centre, one running north-south and the other east-west. Every 15 minutes throughout the evening four trams converged on this junction all arriving within seconds of each other. The tram stops were placed right on the junction where the two roads met and whilst there the trams completely blocked the roads to all traffic. This allowed passengers to transfer safely between the two lines and once these transfers were completed the trams all went their separate ways. I couldn't help thinking that back in the UK:</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">1. No one would have thought about scheduling the trams to make a connection in the first place.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">2. Even if they did, one of more of the trams would be running late - or early.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">3. The tram stops would have been positioned well away from the junction because traffic flow would have been prioritised over passenger safety and convenience.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">4. Anyone attempting to change lines would probably miss their connection due to being unable to cross the road and reach the other stop in time.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">5. Because of all this no one would attempt to make the connection, which would justify all the above decisions to do things that way!</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><span style="font-family: verdana;">to be continued.</span></i></div>Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14502754753792780008noreply@blogger.com0