Train Ride

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Cogitations

Appreciation of art is a wonderful thing, if you can find art worth appreciating of course.  This lot clearly didn't and possibly will produce an essay lacking in the finer understanding of Dutch art.  Not that this matters unless you are going to get involved therein I suppose, and this lot would probably not get beyond one of those Australian soap operas that dominate the telly in soft minded households.    

They might find it ironic that a double decker bus on 'rail replacement service' decided to crash into a railway bridge.  Good job the bus was still empty and the rail line not in use as folks were going to use a bus instead.  Sadly drivers unused to a route sometimes forget they were in double deckers, possibly they are more often driving that route in single deck buses, but occasionally this kind of accident happens.  More often lorry drivers hit the bridge ignoring height restrictions and just run off rather than stopping!  That too happened the other day.  
Also quite interesting was the 'Immigration Judge' who demanded a woman named Patel was brought to court so he could finish the case (an abusive boyfriend) that afternoon.  As her whereabouts were unknown it was said it would be difficult, indeed she might not get time off work.  The judge commented 
“It won’t be a problem. She won’t be working anywhere important where she can’t get the time off. She’ll only be working in a shop or an off-licence.”

Oops, a small slip which has cost him his £150,000 a year job.

Oh yes and being grumpy is good for you!
'Grumpy Cat,' or at least the owner, is supposed to have made around £64 million out of the miserable creature.  If being grumpy does this how come I'm still poor....?

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A Thought at Twilight.

I spent the day working on updating the war memorial site and listening to people sniggering worldwide at my Win 8 problems.  It may indeed be 8.1 but I have yet to work that out.  This is a Bank Holiday weekend, one of the biggest of the year.  Today many disappeared to get away from it all and spent the day with millions of others doing the same thing.  One day people will learn something about this.  I did many years ago when I arrived at Kings Cross station on my way to Edinburgh.  The queue was long and the trains were coming and going, station staff attempted to keep order in the queues but not always successfully.  This was a busy Friday and not the situation I adore. Eventually one of the staff shouted that an extra train had been put on over on platform whatever, and pointed in that direction.  Half the concourse ran over there and crushed themselves onto the train.  I waited thinking, stupidly, that this meant less people and more room on our train.  Wrong!  I got in and sat down.  In those days open coaches had four seats, two facing forward, two backwards, with a table between them.  Acceptable when quiet not so when trapped therein for four hundred miles through the night!  I do not know how I survived but I did.  I had to and folks were standing all along the train!  When we arrived at Newcastle the other train came in also at the other platform and I could see they too were standing crushed together all the way.  I never travelled at a holiday time again, bank or otherwise.  I chose off peak as it was quieter.

My holiday consisted of taking a walk after seven as the sun was going down in a vain hope of getting a good picture of the sky.  This was a mistake as the camera is full of dust and I have had to faff about with the one decent shot. The colour is now w bit iffy but reflects something of what was out there.  The cool off the day, especially after it has rained, gives off a distinctive aroma as the flora (or is it fauna I can never remember) absorb the water after the dry day and fill the air with sweetness, well in my mind anyway.  The streets are quieter, except in town centres, less traffic, no children, and walking where I have not wandered for a while refreshes this dulled mind greatly.  Simple pleasures for the simple minded.  Cheap too!

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A Wee Run North

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A Wee Trip!

Derek Hoskins 

Watch on full screen!

7 videos of John Cameron's A4 loco 60009 Union of South Africa filmed on its two SRPS organised trips around Fife on 21/4/2013. The morning trip was 1Z29 Linlithgow - Dalmeny & the afternoon trip 1Z30 Dalmeny - Inverkeithing. Both trips were via the Forth Bridge - Kirkcaldy - Dunfermline - Alloa - Stirling - Falkirk Grahamston.

1) 1Z29 crosses the Forth Bridge in poor conditions.
2) 1Z29 is seen climbing towards Cowdenbeath around the back of Lumphinnans.
3) With no improvement in the weather, 60009 struggles to keep her feet as she climbs through a TSR to Kilbagie on the SAK line with 1Z29.
4) Nearing the end of the first trip, 1Z29 climbs off of Polmont Junction and through Polmont station..
5) With weather considerably improved for the afternoon run, 1Z30 accelarates out of the restrictive curves at Burntisland and climbs towards Kinghorn as 1E23 13:47 Aberdeen - Kings Cross passes in the opposite direction.
6) 1Z30 coasts down the branch towards its water stop at Newmills on the banks of the Forth.
7) After a well deserved break, 60009 gets back into her stride along the wall at Culross towards Alloa and Stirling.


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Get on Your Bike!

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A Day Off by Rail

The sound is a bit out....

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Jack Frost Arrives

Late last night I spent some time attempting to identify a high pitched whistle. Being late, cold and dark I wondered what sort of bird would be hanging around at that late hour.  Imagine my surprise when I realised it was no bird, it was my wheezing chest!  Therefore this morning I restarted the failing exercise regime, the last one having failed after a few days you will recall.  So bright and early, well just after eight, I was found creaking my way up the old railway heading for Rayne Station.  It is several months since I got that distance, a whole two miles, and my knees let me know about it as we reached the top of the slope.  How those old engines steamed their way up here I do not know!  The sun shone brightly, the fields were white with the first real frost of winter and the scenery was wonderful!  Smiling dogs led their well wrapped owners a merry dance as they raced about their favourite haunts.  A jogger or two passed in ridiculously loud clothing seemingly under the impression this made them either faster or more 'with it.'  In both cases they are clearly mistaken.  

   

At the station the Rangers (not that kind) who run the line (now called the 'Flitch Way) have installed an old railway coach.  It appears the plan is to use it as a museum or an enlarged tearoom, thus enabling the station itself to be a better museum.  I hope whatever they decide works for them.  This is the first time since the late 70's that rails have been seen on this line.  Oh to see a proper train, one with steam at the front and compartment coaches once again! How romantic and atmospheric a steam train can be, something the more efficient diesel and electric machines cannot match.  These may well be better in every way but in spite of this they have less romance about them.

This coach never saw a steam engine pulling it that is for sure, and it is far from the aged wooden coaches used until 1952, the date the last passenger train ran on this line.  The charabancs that abounded after the Great War, plus the vast number of ex-army lorries that came available at the time led to a drop in numbers both of people and goods.  It was only the presence of the huge sugar beet factory half way along that kept the line working and even they turned to lorries by the 70's.  Soon after it had all gone.  Our station survives and many commute to the pleasure dome that is London for a means of earning their high wages.  Most of which goes on the fares to get them to work.  I came home that way one night and feel sure the crowded train would do my head in if I used it five nights a week. One derailment, accident, jammed door, body on line and the hour and five minute journey could take a week!  Interestingly the Transport Minister is based in Chelmsford, just down the road.  He was caught out using his chauffeured car to drive him to work rather than the train.  So for a short while he was made to rise in time for the 6:00 and he was not pleased! He may well be back in the car but he has announced he will not stand at the next election, retiring to a directorship or two I suspect, probably concerning railways!    

Naturally I decided to get up on the platform, in spite of my weakened hulk having strained its way up here, and so I placed my toe in that little step used by railway men to onto the platform.  I did this, got almost up, my knees gave way and I went splat on my face.  No-one amongst the handful in the vicinity around appeared either to notice or be surprised.  The coach had been used as a money making idea Santa Claus den just before Christmas and the windows were decorated appropriately, well according to them anyway.  Nothing exciting was seen bar this angel, possibly this is the one that enabled me to get down without falling flat on my face twice!  You may well be bored of this coach by Summertime. 

Home Jeeves, down that slope, and don't spare the horses dogs.  The sun shining through the trees as I cantered homewards could well have done me damage if I were epileptic.  Bright sun then dark shadow, it was like a thousand flashbulbs one after another.  Flashbulbs?  We are not old enough to remember flashbulbs are we?  Home at a degree of speed not imagined earlier, shaking of the attentions of the dogs I rejoiced in the bright morning, always the best part of the day, and breathed fresh cold air to remove the whistling noise.  Home in my mind meant hot bath, a continuation of the sleep I disturbed when this daft idea entered my head, breakfast and a hot massage.  I still await the hot massage!  I will ache all day tomorrow, to be honest I ache now! Bah!

Truth?

This show, created by Graeme Garden and Jon Naismith, involves contestants, usually comedians, offering a short speech on an individual, and often wacky subject.  Each talk will contain five truths among the deliberate lies and the three others must identify the truths to win points.  Much harder than it appears and the programme has had a decent run.  The two instigators have produced a book on this (I'm not buying!) and the 'Daily Telegraph' for reasons of its own has published a few of these.  Try this link and the 20 questions offered.  My score was 62% and I suspect you must do better!

The Unbelievable Truth

Also by special request a Railway Video!

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Quaint!

Forgotten Relics

I was led to this 'Quaint little Railway,' via the excellent 'Forgotten Relics' site.  If you have no life you may wish to spend a few hours a day looking at the films on show at this site.  Some people have disappeared for months watching this selection.  I may be one of them soon. 

A Better Bus....

A better bus took me to Chelmsford, one of the dullest towns known to man.  The main street has been pedestrianised and today contained several stall offering the usual fruit and veg, bread, cakes and stuff.  None offered coffee funnily enough but 'Costa' cafes appeared every few minutes.  Another wasted search for that jacket, although I did find a chap with a similar search to me.  Neither of us have been satisfied by the major stores.   

Coffee was provided, for £1, at the excellent stall in the Market however.  Not as good as the Colchester chap but better than overpriced 'Costa!'  I prefer such places as this.  

The old entrance to the Essex County Buildings reflects the Edwardian elegance and pretentiousness considered so important at that time.  Around the corner the new portion of the building reflects the modern pretentious style.  I much prefer this door!  Clearly this building did not satisfy the needs of the populace, or their councillors at least as an addition was added in 1929

It is of course the panel on the right indicates Chelmsford Council however I canny find any information on the building and at the moment have too little time to search.  Quite why a rams head, if indeed it is that, sits above the letters I know not, there again there is no reason for another ram or what might be a vulture above the date 1929.  That was of course the year of the Wall Street crash so I hope the builders were paid before people started to throw themselves from 67th floor windows.  I checked the pavements round about but they were no worse than normal.

Along the old canal I wandered, strengthened by the coffee and discovered 'Boris the Spider' hard at work under the road bridge.  My knowledge of such beasties is somewhat limited, usually limited to crying "AAAARGGGH!" and running away, so I am not clear as to the real name of this one.  I have seen lots of these around here and usually have a couple on the windows living of other beasties.  You can keep this one if you like....  

I am much happier disappointing the ducks by not feeding them.  This lot were ganging up to threaten a toddler for his lunch just before I arrived.  Once he had been deprived they looked for other mugs.  I never expected to find a large pond in this area.  An excellent feature and much more interesting, when the sun shines, than the High Street and its crowded shops.  In Primark, a place I never entered before, I discovered an imitation Harris Tweed like jacket for £28.  Not far away a similar jacket, made with slightly better 'Tweed,' cost more than twice as much at a 'reduced ' price.  It crossed my mind that the same sweatshop slave earned fourpence for making both.

Running across the top of the park lies the Liverpool Street Railway.  High above on this excellent viuduct the trains run several minutes late regularly, especially at rush hour when people jump in front of them or lorry drives crash into the weaker bridges!  It was not possible to get the whole thing into a photo, it continues behind and into the distance, but the number of bricks is very impressive and a credit to the men who erected in during Victoria's reign.

As I said goodbye to the ducks that followed in a forlorn manner I headed back towards the bus station grasping my Free Bus Pass tightly in my hand.  However I was distracted by a statue in the distance that at first I thought referred to the Theatre that stands nearby.

With the light right behind the poor souls head it merely leaves him a dark silhouette but this man holding the 'lightning flash' in one hand and what looks like an old fashioned phone in the other is Guglielmo Marconi, the inventor of 'wireless.'  He in fact was not the actual inventor but he did play a serious development role and created a successful factory in the town that survived until recently.  It may still be found as part of GEC, if that has not died also.  You may recall him as the chap who sent a wireless signal across the Atlantic to Newfoundland, in spite of opposition from the men running the Telegraph system!  

Naturally I missed the bus!  As I approached I noticed the bus maneuvering about in a tight space.  Quick thinking, and a fast walk against my will, took me around the corner to the next stop which I reached, puggled, by the time the driver had made it past the traffic lights.  I was quite proud of my quick thinking.  I could tell by his snigger the driver had watched my attempt at speed and did not mistake me for that Bolt fellow.

I snatched this picture of the 'St Annes Castle' as we sped along because I noticed the sign on the other wall claiming that this was 'The Oldest Inn in England,' with a date that I think may have been possibly 1171.  I began to wonder how many other 'Oldest' Inns there may be, there is always a pub claiming to be the 'Smallest,' and how many can claim 'Elizabeth Ist Stayed Here!' Claims such as these have limited evidence but one of the must be right.  Inns such as this, on a road probably going back long before Roman times, must have carried many travellers requiring sustenance, so it is possible it was around a thousand years ago.  Here is the pubs own information regarding its age.   The place is mentioned in the Domesday Book, which you will recall, though not from personal experience, was written in 1086.  I may go down there to check it out one day myself....          

                                       

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Look to the Future!

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Technical Genius, not me.....

As you will have noticed today we celebrate 150 years of Frank Hornby, the man who gave the world 'Meccano,' 'Dinky Toys,' and model railways!  This great man offered the world, especially boys in the days when we knew what boys were, education re engineering, fun and enjoyment through dinky cars, and huge pleasure which many still enjoy through model railways.  What a man.  He deserves a knighthood in my humble, and correct, opinion.  

Being technically deficient I found Meccano a bit of a trial.  The idea was simple enough, strips of metal with holes in, held together by screws and nuts, formed  into a useful machine by following a simple diagram.  The simple idea failed whenever I touched it.  No two sides ever matched, bits were missing, anything that looked like it may work always had one item missing.  Once built it was often impossible to undo the screws someone had inserted with a power drill!  My dad enjoyed it, he made a model DC3 that was excellent for a kid like me.  My brother who was technically minded managed to make everything he touched perfectly.  The Steam engine he made many years later ran around the house quite happily.  My little cranes and slot machines were like Spanish building projects, never completed!

However many went on to great things through this 'toy.'  The budding Kingdom Brunel's of this world learnt much about engineering and making Forth Road Bridges that blocked their mothers house for months on end.  Frank Hornby himself made a fortune, and deservedly so.  After many years of trial and effort he eventually sold 'Meccano' worldwide.

During the 1920s Hornby introduced his 'O' gauge clockwork railway.  Twice the size of the trains that were to come later this sold reasonably well, well enough to encourage the introduction of trackside accompaniment, cars, houses, people.  These items became known as 'Dinky Toys' and as such became a favourite in every child's home ever since!  Basic cast metal toys stayed popular until the early sixties when perspex windows, seats and steering wheels, were added.  Kids of the sixties did not know the hardships we endured!  Today old men enthusiasts collect aged Dinkies, sometimes paying over £30 for a dingy Dinky!  Rare models still in their boxes can raise huge sums, but not from me.  Since 1933 the cars dominated a boy child's play.  Today I do not see them so obvious in shops.  Why have tastes changed?  Political Correctness perhaps?  Recently one company offered 'Boys Toys' and'Girls Toys,' and received a flood of complaints, from mothers, as if they had done something wrong!  No longer can we claim a toy to be for one sex or another, even though boys still prefer boys toys, and girls prefer girls toys.  Social engineering does not amend human nature, stupid mothers!

The greatest thing Hornby ever achieved however came after his death! The great 'Hornby Dublo' 00 Scale electric railways!  The electric train set became every boys dream!  Nothing could compare to having a train set, especially when the surroundings could be changed at will (easy, being made of shoe boxes and other objects) and the mind could develop layouts according to your own desire, until at least someone wanted the table back!  Bah!  My greatest mistake as a spoiled brat was to get rid of the train set and fall for the Scalextric racing cars rubbish!  Did I think I was growing up perhaps?  What appeared as great fun was, like all racing cars, boring!  The train set enlarged the mind, the cars just fell off the track at high speed.  There is of course many such railway layouts run today by men of certain age who ought to know better.  The lure of the railway gets a grip and much money and many web forums are dedicated to (cough) mature men playing with railways.  Not my thing today, but how I wish I had kept my set all those years ago.

Frank Hornby was born in Liverpool of middle class leaning parents in 1863.  He left school at 16 to work in his dad's provision business.  After his father died the business closed and when working for a meat importer he developed the 'Meccano' theme in his own time.  His boss encouraged and supported this financially at first but it was not until 1907 that the name was established as his own business.  By the beginning of the Great War offices were established in Paris, Mexico and Berlin!   By the thirties he was a millionaire and the business well established.  He died in 1936 of a combination of heart disease and diabetes.  He left many happy little boys of all ages behind him.    

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A Day Trip

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Let's Go....

I enjoyed that!

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Down the 'Tube'

London Transport Museum

As I passed by the museum on my way home from the horsemeat shop I pondered on the recent festivities on the London Underground.  Being 150 years since the first Metropolitan Railway line opened in 1863 they decided to run a steam special pulling carriages of ancient vintage full of hangers on dignitaries to commemorate the occasion.  Sadly my invitation appears to still be somewhere in the post.  

The first line was one of those 'cut and cover' jobs along the Euston Road.  This road had been built as circular route around the heavily congested centre of London and marked the then edge of the main metropolis.  To avoid railways cutting through this congestion, and knocking down MP's homes, all stations were built on the edge, which explains the setting for Paddington, Euston, Kings Cross and St Pancras.  The idea of an underground railway under this road was clever as little tunneling was required.  The road was dug up, tracks laid, walls and stations built, and the road surface returned once more.  There was little real disruption, except to those evicted or who's homes may have collapsed.  Always some 'Nimby' to complain!  

Running from Paddington, where Rolling stock help was obtained from Mr Brunel's Great Western Railway, hence the large tunnels to accommodate Brunel's 'Broad Gauge' tracks and engines, the line spread east to Farringdon.  Compare the tunnels on this line with the others.  I travelled this line on many occasions, not in the days of steam I hasten to add, and remain awed by the size of the tunnels and the complex arrangements of the various railway lines that run unheeded in the area.    

The idea of hastening travellers was a good one and enabled many to cross the city from one station to another with considerable ease.  The roadway itself soon lost the position as the rim of the city and as while the Metropolitan Railway pushed east to Aldgate to meet the new 'District' line the rising population pushed outwards.  The railways followed soon after.  By 1864 the GWR no longer assisted the Met line as they now possessed their own trains, however the GWR aided the line as it expanded west to Hammersmith, and the Met itself went northwards to chase the middle classes desiring a commuter lifestyle in fresh air in England's 'green and pleasant land,' which they proceeded to concrete over.  

By 1884 the Metropolitan Railway company had joined with the Metropolitan District Railway to create a circle line under London, this time using a new system of tunneling, suitable in the clay soil. Since then the railway, running on electric traction since the 1890's, has been a world of its own.  The experience is never forgotten, especially when the loony always sits next to you!  The warm air as the 'tube' approaches, the roar when the station is entered, the stuff that gets up your nose and the happy smiling faces stay in the mind always.  Only one of those is incorrect by the way.

How to build an underground railway. Pick and shovel!

The dignitaries at Paddington. (1863 not 2013 by the way)

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It's a Terrible Thing....

When the good pictures run out and there is nothing left to say.  However while passing through Shenfield Station I saw this run down apparition parked at the far side.  A guards 'brake van' from the days of long ago.  Goods wagons in the past had no brakes, they merely clinked and clunked against one another when the train slowed down or stopped, the brake van would be used to control long goods trains, often carryinhuge amounts of weight.  When young, the shunter  sorting wagons far from us on a dark night could be heard at my home, the soothing clinking sound coming miles through the darkness.  No such sounds exists today, and the Edinburgh I once knew is far noisier at night than it was then.  Mind you down here in the wilderness the night is quieter but no romantic noises are ever heard, unless you count the Sainsburys lorry passing by of course.  I wonder what this brake in need of refurbishment is doing there?  Please explain.

At Stratford the underground, national rail and the Docklands light Railway meet together along with other transport termini.  A huge amount of work has been done here since I last passed through.  The Olympic Games led to much improvement (they say) and the Euro trains also helped.  However so many of the buildings are modern, shapeless or just plain ugly to me that I find myself thinking the acres of electric pylons and rail lines of the past more worthy of praise.  Note also the strange yellow, blue and white shapes in front of the office block.  I think these are an attempt to deflect noise away from the buildings, I wonder if it works?

Talking of 'dereliction' reminds me of this picture I took while passing by Waterloo on Saturday.  Dismal and gray, and this just after noon at that, this was the best pic my weary hulk could obtain of that palace of rogues.  I see what looks like a large poster high up in the middle of the building, I think it reads 'Guy Fawkes wanted, Apply within.'

That's my lovely warm Christmas now at an end.  No more living amongst warm, generous lovely people, no more good food that has taste, no more warmth and happiness, reality begins to hit home now.  So some rant or other will appear soon, grumbling and complaining and scowling at the world will once again be my lot I suspect.  We'll see.    

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Waterloo Station

Waterloo Station boasts very this impressive entrance which doubles as a memorial to the railwaymen who served during the Great War.  A fantastic offering for the many men who fell, their names are listed just inside the entrance.  The armies in France required professional railway operators specifically for the British forces.  These ensured the goods and men reached the intended area on mainline and light railways throughout the British lines.  Hard work, under fire often, just as dangerous as well as those who served in the army directly.  The picture is difficult to obtain because of the road traffic behind.  Most using this station will enter and leave by the underground entrances rather than this door, I wonder how many who do come this way stop to look?  

In spite of carrying a ludicrously heavy bag I wandered through the maze of tunnels under the street to the embankment in an attempt to obtain a picture or two.  Naturally the drizzle came down, the place was crowded with damp tourists getting in the way, I was tired, afraid of missing the train connection and found the whole experience of being back in London quite unsettling.  For 21 years I lived here, I thought I knew the place and was disconcerted to discover how my unfit hulk could no longer run about like I used to here.  What would have taken ten minutes now appeared to take for ever!  The bag did not help of course.

This colossal brute was not here in my day.  Who dumped this here?  And why is there a long, damp, queue waiting in the drizzle to climb aboard and slowly go around in a circle aboard this creature?  A view from high up can be a marvellous experience but I wonder about being trapped in a space bubble while doing so myself.  It seems somewhat out of place against the huge imperialist buildings and associated history all around it.  

I made it to Waterloo on the two hour and five minute journey from Bournemouth.  Because of engineering work on the line between here and Poole the trains were often using the wrong platforms.  This meant I followed instructions on one platform and almost ended up aboard this train which landed in Manchester!  Good job that porter was there!  The difference in the people aboard the intercity trains and those on the underground remains notable.  While there are some similarities the step down from the train to the tube is like entering a dark world, a darkness not caused by being in a tunnel either.  I'm just glad I used the new Jubilee line and not the old Northern!  Could I live there now?  Even if I had the money I wonder if I could cope.

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O Happy Week!

What a lovely Christmas time that was!  I was so happy I never thought about the missing laptop until I wanted to play around with the photos I'd taken.  Goodness gracious, who would have thunk it?  A whole week without reading the online Mail, grumpy folks on football forums, 
and spam merchants clogging up the web.  Wonderful!  Of course Mr Anonymous had left several thousand posts for me to remove but that has been done and the papers really don't need reading do they?  

I started on the Monday in the hope of missing much of the weekend traffic, and bar a pair of women gossiping behind me forcing the aged Walkman out of the bag the train was quite enjoyable.  Of course I had to change at the new interchange at Stratford and climb aboard the Jubilee line.  How long since I endured an underground journey I fail to remember but little appears to have changed.  Almost no English to be seen, which is not something to complain about, no smiling faces, no helpful gestures, no view out of the window after we left West Ham.  Glancing around I noted the majority no longer read newspapers, now it is ipads, tablets and the like.  My Walkman hid quietly at this point.  At Waterloo the one real problem was the daft idea to buy a coffee before boarding.  There I was suitcase in one hand, coffee in another, and no hand left to put the ticket through the gate!  A smiling lady employee used her key, rushed through, smiled and let me wait outside!  Grrrr!  However I managed to balance the £2.05p worth of coffee (worth about 15p actually) on the far side of the gate, maneuver the ticket into the slot and barge through without spilling anything.   

  

How lovely to stay in a clean house, warm, well fed, and not required to do anything but look out the very wide windows at the birdies squabbling among the feeders hanging in the garden.  The Robins, Blackbirds, Finches and Tits fed happily undisturbed, bar the intrusion of a Buzzard which spent an hour or two hiding in the corner until we decided it was better chased off.  Having found the garden empty on arrival, been fooled by a fluttering leaf to dive to the lawn the bird sneekily hid behind the garden shed and watched carefully through the windows at the feeders.  You may find it difficult to believe how enjoyable the garden scene is but I assure you he and I spent many an hour, with her grumbling in the background, discussing the activities of the feathered folks.  Of course it would have been better still if the sun had shown up a little more often, sulking behind clouds was it's major occupation most of the time. 

Can you see the Buzzard?

Some folks have difficulty finding one family, I have two!  How lucky to be able to find two families!  Not only that I get on with them.  I suppose I would not be there otherwise.  Work and poverty stopped me getting down there for years and it was a week of restful tender loving care - for me at least!  So much so that I spent hours watching the kind of TV I would normally abhor!  More than this I found myself enjoying what was on offer and getting involved with the hero's problems.  The feeble young Viking befriending the injured Dragon brought tears to my eyes.  Quite why he and the girl hero had American accents and the older Vikings Scots accents escaped us.  Do Americans not realise Vikings (who do not have horns on their helmets) come from Scandinavia   Look it up on the map!   So slouched on the couch, yet another mug of tea in hand, chocolates around, possibly home made fruitcake in hand, I passed the week amongst intelligent conversation and laughter.  Made a change from talking to myself.

A trip to Poole Bay to be blown away and around the corner to watch the ferry and sit admiring the view of the sea.  Gales of wind blowing folks hats from their heads while aboard the Swanage Ferry gave us a laugh.  The view gave us reason to sit and stare for a while.  There is something healing to the soul sitting and watching a view, either of the sea or the land.  Some wrongly call this 'spiritual,' what they mean in 'tranquil.'  We need deep inside to get away from the workshop or office, the sink or the routine and refresh the mind by sitting and just watching the almost still view.  Try it today!

The view of 'Old Harry,' the rocks at the far end of the bay from high above on Canford Cliffs was well worth a look.  'Old Harry' is the solitary rock sticking up at the end of the land in the centre of the top picture.  What a day to be there!  This has been a favourite view of mine since the day I first came here in the late 70's.  The beach below is clean sand, well controlled by the lifeguards, although only one dunderhead was actually swimming in the freezing water, and the long slow walk along the front is one I long to do once again, possibly next time.  

The view in the other direction, to the left gave a clear view of the Isle of Wight.  The chalk cliffs reflecting the sun.  Wonderful!  The flats behind us along Cliff Drive in Poole have this vista daily and I want it also.  Please lend me half a million and I'll pay it back  as soon as I can.    

Now I am back in the smelly home with a bagfull of dirty laundry. Rejoice, rejoice......   On the other hand I have dozens of the other photos to post, can you wait....?

I hope your Christmas week was a good as mine!

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Day Trip Anyone?

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