A Postcard from the City

Bentham Station

"We need to get out, have a change a scene!"

My wife's words rang true for all of us.  We've had a a fairly stressful time of late and so a day out in Leeds we agreed, was just the thing.

We boarded our train for the 90 minute journey to be greeted by the tale tale signs of Football Supporters.  Their white, yellow and blue Leeds United scarves wrapped tightly round their necks gave them away.  Fortunately these were fairly calm examples of the species.  More late middle aged than young, with no lager cans in sight.  The journey was uneventful aside from the steam gala attracting crowds at Keighley station.  Families and spotters braving the snowy conditions, with their cameras preparing to take the KWVR to Haworth for a look around the Bronte parsonage.

Leeds was busy.  It was a Saturday with the usual shopping crowds rampaging through Trinity Shopping Centre. The queues in Primark were snaking around the reductions displays.

We repaired to a well known bakers for a pastry covered snack.  Eldest sons steak bake was filled with magma.  He fought a valiant battle between agony and hunger and eventually it was consumed.  Time for a drink.

First we indulged in a brief cocktail.  An expensive pastime for those of us more used to drinking pints.  Next on to a standard pub, if of course we could find one.  The city centre pubs were rammed with shoppers and football supporters.  In some places we couldn't even get near the bar.  We ended up standing shoulder to shoulder with many others in a tiny historic city centre hostelry.  

Whitelock's Ale House is apparently the oldest pub in Leeds.  Tucked away between Briggate and Lands Lane, it retains an original wooden panelled Victorian interior, with plenty of stained glass and a copper topped bar.  The beer was good and there was a friendly atmosphere.  Trouble was there was barely enough room to raise a glass to the mouth.  We would love to have stayed longer but we couldn't move.  We fought our way to the exit and moved on.

The Old Luncheon Bar Whitelock's Ale House

The Italian restaurant we had chosen was Riva Blu.  This was once a Gino D' Acampo restaurant, but was rebranded, against the TV chefs wishes, in January 2022.  The food was good and the service attentive but not intrusive.  Some reviews have said that the food is overpriced for the quality, but for a city centre restaurant we felt the price was reasonable, and the quality very good. My steak was beautifully cooked and cost £25 which is pretty much the going rate.

As crowds thinned we tried a couple more pubs, but soon enough we had to head back to the station for the train home.  Living in the wilds means the last train leaves just after 7pm.  We had a quiet trip back and decided to stop for a nightcap at the local.

Here we were welcomed by our fellow locals and sat quietly in the corner reflecting on the day.  We were approached by some visitors.

One of these was someone that had once worked with my wife's father.  They happily chatted about Preston and memories of her late mum.  His companion was different entirely.

The gentleman in question was in his late forties.  Bald with a large bushy beard.  His eyes were like pinpricks and he spoke at a breath taking rate.  I suspected he may have taken some sort of stimulant, legal or otherwise.  His first words were a poor start:

"Why do you live in a place like this?  There's nothing going on its s***!"

I smiled and explained that having lived in London, and in other big cities, living in the country side was a much nicer proposition, particularly for our children.

He ignored the answer and continued to criticise our town, its people and the caravan site on which he was staying.  He made sure to point out that he was fantastically well off and that the caravan his husband had taken their three children back to was about half the size of the kitchen in his six bedroom mansion north of Manchester.

He then started a character assassination of someone who is a good friend of ours.  According to this arrogant soul everyone in town hated our friend.  He and his wife were the lowest sort of scum and the fact they had moved away was good riddance.  He was then at pains to point out he didn't know the guy personally, but it was a joke that he had been profiled in the local paper.

I pointed out that I had written the article.

He continued claiming more and more outlandish things about our friend.  He owed large amounts to money to dodgy people.  He couldn't run a bath let alone his business.  The lecture was getting very tiresome.

My wife snapped first.  She pointed out that if he didn't know the man in question, why was he spreading unsubstantiated rubbish about him?  There was certainly no truth to the accusations that were being levelled at our friend.  Moreover the name dropping of other people we know well to support his baseless claims were a nonsense.

He then called my wife mad and continued his diatribe against our friend.  At this point I'd had enough.  I stood up and told him that I would not tolerate him talking to my wife that way.  I said that I found his tone arrogant and offensive.  That he should not be spreading baseless rumours about someone he didn't know and that my wife and I would be going as we'd had enough of his company.

He stood up and started poking me in the chest.

"You're erratic, don't start on me, why are you starting on me?  Sit down, sit down or you'll regret it!"

As I stared him down, the barman stepped in and took the guy to one side.  We left and went home.

Having survived the dangerous bright lights of the city, it was ironic that I should have to come home to get threatened by a drunk.  To be fair it's the first time since 1993, so I'm happy with a once in 30 year record.

Oh and the Leeds result?  They drew 1-1 with Brighton.

The Ultimate Driving Machine?

Bavarian Motor Works

Growing up in the later years of the twentieth century and being a bit of a car nerd, I can fondly remember the glossy adverts for the latest models.  Each brand seemed to have their own identity.  

Everyone knows Audi was vorsprung durch technik even though we had no idea what it meant, progress trough technology apparently.  My Grandfather made a fleeting appearance in an ad for the Audi 80, as the hapless ships captain dropping the car from a millionaires yacht into the Mediterranean.  Audi's boast of the car being made from galvanised steel meant it wouldn't rust, was offset by my Grandfather reporting the car was ruined by the time they'd fished it out, off camera of course. 

Ford had a catchy jingle to go with Everything we do is driven by you.  Volkswagen had the famous Changes advert.  A recent divorcee played by model Paula Hamilton, throwing away her possessions until finding her car key.  She smiles and drives off in her Golf to the caption: If only everything in life was a reliable as a Volkswagen.

Land Rover has been The best 4x4 by far for as long as I can remember and Fiat's Hand built by robots slogan was cheekily rewritten by the comedy show Not the Nine O'clock News to: Designed by lasers, built by robots, driven by Italians accompanied by a picture of a motorway pile up.

BMW, with their rear wheel drive saloons have always marketed itself as The Ultimate Driving Machine.  Adverts would be testosterone filled speed fests, with chiselled males and beautiful girls in exclusive parts of the world.  These adverts appealed to a certain type of person which according to YouGov is:

"Male, aged 40-59, lives in East Anglia. They’re likely to hold right wing political views and work in the business, finance or consulting sectors. Your typical BMW driver is interested in motorsports and motoring, and enjoys dining out."

I think we might all add that BMW drivers tend to view indicators as an unusable optional extra but I digress.

So with this owner profile you may be surprised to learn that when we had to replace my wife's rusty Honda HRV, given that it had gained the structural integrity of a lace doily, we went for a BMW X3.  The reasons were eminently sensible.  It's a 4x4 SUV, it's a comfortable drive, it's an automatic, and most importantly it was cheap.

BMW X3

The X3 when launched in 2003 was the first mid size premium SUV on the market.  It was designed in conjunction with Magna Steyr, the Austrian tractor manufacturer who also built them until 2010.  

So from an ownership point of view I was expecting a relatively easy time, and yet the Ultimate Driving Machine is at times a royal pain in the behind.

With my mechanical skills best described as enthusiastic amateur, I have tackled the following jobs:

• Full Service and Oil Change.  Relatively simple and the car ran much better afterwards.
• Replacement of faulty Air Bag Sensor.  A real pain having to disassemble the passenger B-Pillar trim.  The part is discontinued and took a while to source.
• Repair Vacuum Leak 1.  The rubber intake boot split allowing unmetered air into the engine.  This caused the car to run rich with poor fuel consumption.  I ordered a new part from the BMW dealer and dismantled the engine ready to replace it.  I then discovered my own car had an oil leak and I couldn't drive to pick the part up.  I got the train which took three hours, I had to change at Carnforth and then had a three mile walk from the station in the rain to collect the part.  I got very wet, but the car got repaired.
• Repair Vacuum Leak 2.  A rubber pipe at the bottom of the engine perished causing high fuel consumption again.  This time I ordered a part to be delivered from a specialist.  Trouble was it never came.  I managed to find one from a motor factor 50 miles away in Leeds and had to drive there to collect it.
• Replace front brake pads.  A simple job, that caused no drama.

These repairs were relatively simple, just time consuming.  However by far the worst job on this car by a distance is the rear screen washer.  This is without doubt the stupidest piece of design in the history of the automobile.  I know that might seem a bold statement.  You might say what about the Austin Allegro and its square steering wheel?  What about the Saab 900 you could drive with a joystick?  What about the Morris Marina and its Trunnions?  Or even the G-Wizz or Suzuki X-90? There have been a lot of poorly designed and built cars over the years but, all of those pale into insignificance because the rear washer on a BWW X3 is Premier League stupidity.

Let me explain.

The car has a screen wash reservoir in the front under the bonnet.  It has two pumps, one for the windscreen and one for the rear, so far so standard.  The rear washer jet is supplied by a 6mm pipe that runs from the reservoir to the rear through the car under the carpet.  Again nothing too unusual in that except, BMW in their infinite wisdom decided to make the pipe in two sections.  The joint is on the drivers side of the transmission tunnel and is a push fit.  

So what? I hear you ask, well the problem is this.

When there is cold weather, the rear jet freezes.  When the rear screen wash is activated the pressure forces the joint apart.  As the now broken pipe is lower than the reservoir the entire watery contents leak into the rear footwell, where it soaks into the foam sound deadening material and rots the carpet.

Moreover, this pipe cannot easily be reached, that would be too sensible.  No, no, instead you must remove the rear seat, the drivers seat (remembering to disconnect the battery so the airbag system doesn't fault), and all of the surrounding plastic trim.  You then peel back to sodden carpet to reveal a small lake and the gushing joint.

The Offending Joint

Repair is the next problem.

The first time, I spent hours drying the carpet with a halogen heater and the hairdryer.  I simply pushed the joint back together.  It clicked and I thought no more of it.

Two weeks later it broke again.  This time I glued the joint.  That repair lasted a month.

This time I meant business.  I taped with PTFE tape, glued and for extra piece of mind clamped another larger hose over the top.

Summer came, the car dried out and I felt I had cured the problem, until this week when the weather went cold and the screen wash disappeared.  Yet again we have a leaking joint.

So what is the solution?  Ultimately a new piece of pipe from pump to jet without a joint.  That would involve removing the interior of the car completely and in the current freezing temperatures is not appealing.  I could send it to BMW who charge £500 to effect a repair without a guarantee it won't do the same again once the weather goes cold.  Instead I'm going to use a coupling that is used by water dispensing fridges.  They use 6mm pipe and it is possible to get a fitting to join two pieces of pipe together.  You have to order online as no one appears to stock them, believe me I trawled the local plumbers merchants and DIY stores.  I event went to a shop that sells fridges.

The Solution?

I'm writing this whilst I wait for my Amazon delivery.  Hopefully this is the permanent solution.  Anyway I've cut a hole in the carpet, just in case I need to repair it again.

A Visit to Lookout Mountain

Many UK visitors visit the southern state of Tennessee for its musical heritage.  The Grand ‘Ole Opry is located in the “Home of Country Music” Nashville.  Three hours to the west is Memphis, the home of Sun Studios and Elvis Presley’s home Graceland.

However Tennessee has so much more to offer and taking a short drive southeast along Interstate 24 from Nashville is another city immortalised in song, Chattanooga. 

Whilst Glenn Miller’s Choo Choo no longer runs, the historic station has been converted into a hotel.  Guests can even stay in Pullman train cars as an alternative to rooms in the station building.  Inside the hotel there is a restaurant and bars open to non-residents, at the centre of the lively downtown district.

But perhaps the most interesting attraction in this vibrant city is the remarkable Lookout Mountain.  It is no longer necessary to fight your way the summit in the style of General Grant, but rather take the Incline Railway, dubbed “America’s Amazing Mile.”

Accompanied by my intrepid son, we boarded the railway at the bottom station, the St. Elmo Terminal.  Here there is ample parking which has the bonus of being free for RV’s.  The St. Elmo district has a mixture of shops, restaurants and microbreweries, all within a few blocks of the station itself.  However, those were to explore later.  For now, we handed over our $21 for the round trip, ($15 for me, and $7 for children), and we were shown onto the platform.

The light and airy railcar is easily accessible, with dedicated space for two wheelchairs.  These are new cars, only introduced into service last year.  They have more glazing than the previous cars, and are now air conditioned.  The seating is tiered, and faces down the mountain giving passengers a clear view of where we’ve come from, helped by a glass roof.  My 8-year-old companion was apprehensive.

“Dad this train doesn’t look right.  It’s scary!”

I could see what he meant.  The railway ascends at a gradient of 72.7% making it one of the steepest in the world.  Compare that with the Lynton & Lynmouth Cliff Railway in North Devon that has “just” a 58% gradient.  The tiered seating meant we were leaning slightly backward here at the station, but that was soon to change.

I muttered fatherly words of reassurance, and with a jolt from the cable attached to the car we were off.  The car then travels at a gentle ten miles per hour, meaning the journey to the summit takes around ten minutes.  There is a passing loop halfway which allows an identical railcar to descend at the same time as our ascent.  Its sudden appearance alongside gave Tom a real fright.  As it vanished below us, the other car gave a real perspective of just how steep this railway is.

As we continued to climb my companion begins to relax and the railway travels through a wooded cutting directly up the side of the mountain.  The flora and fauna are varied and change with the seasons.  Mountain Laurel and Rhododendron are now in bloom as its mid-summer.  These are replaced by dramatic reds in Autumn, and clear views of Chattanooga far below in the winter months.  In Spring Dogwoods bloom.

On arrival at the summit, 2100 feet above sea level, the air is cool and clear.  The temperature is around 10°C lower than the valley floor.  We decide to stop at the small cafeteria to refresh ourselves, with plenty of sweets and handmade fudge as a reward for a younger traveller’s bravery.  On the roof of the terminal there are magnificent views of Chattanooga and beyond, into not just Tennessee but also Alabama and Georgia.  Further down in the station building is a large window into the machine room.  Here are the electric motors that drag the cars to the summit.  Originally these were steam engines but were replaced in 1911 by the Otis Elevator Company.

A railcar on the Incline.

There are a mixture of visitors from around the world here, enjoying the stunning view.  A young girls southern drawl was audible above the other conversations.

“What do you mean they couldn’t shoot them?” exclaimed Meghan.  Her father smiled as he replied.

“Just as it says honey, the mountain is so steep the soldiers on the top couldn’t shoot the attacking Yankees because their musket balls rolled out of their rifles when they aimed downhill!”

Standing on the roof of the Incline Railway terminal on the top of Lookout Mountain it was difficult to visualise Union soldiers attacking Confederate troops during the pivotal “Battle above the Clouds” in November 1863.  The bright clear day that allowed us majestic views of Chattanooga and the Tennessee River valley was not the day those soldiers found.  That day fog had descended to around halfway down the mountain slopes.  The attacking soldiers emerged into bright sunlight at the summit, and had the unusual advantage of being able to fire their rifles uphill at the enemy, who unable to fire back were forced to fight hand to hand.  The Union prevailed under the guidance of General Ulysses Grant, and the siege of Chattanooga was lifted.

A short walk from the railway station is Point Park, commemorating the Civil War battle that saw the Union take control of Chattanooga.  The centrepiece is the impressive New York State Peace Monument.  This is the only Civil War Monument commemorating both the Union and Confederate armies together, and was a gift from the State of New York.  On the mountains edge, lookout points provide even more spectacular views of Chattanooga and the Tennessee River in the valley below.  It was from here that the Confederate artillery fired onto the Union Army in the siege of Chattanooga.

The New York State Peace Monument.

Opposite the park is the Battles for Chattanooga Electric Map and Museum.  This tells the story of the extensive fighting in the area for the strategically important Chattanooga.  Described as the gateway to the south due to the large number of railways that converge here, heavy fighting took place for control of this important supply route.  The battle cost 34,000 lives and is described as one of the bloodiest of the war.  Tom, who has an interest in the First World War, is now in his element, comparing the memorabilia and stories from the battlefield of a different conflict.

Time for us to take the return journey back down the mountain and return to our hotel.  Boarding the railcar, we could see Chattanooga far below and the late afternoon sun glinting on the Tennessee River.

The Other End of the Line

Mallard, The World's Fastest Steam Locomotive

I have a confession to make.  I like trains.  Not in the biblical sense you understand, that would be just weird, but I do like reading about and watching videos on trains.  More specifically I suppose the act of travelling by train to a variety of destinations.  Why should I have this strange compulsion?  I've come up with the following theory.

Until the age of four, we lived in a small flat overlooking the West London Railway between Shepherds Bush and Kensington Olympia.  I have memories of watching all sorts of different trains passing by from our living room window.  I especially remember Motorail trains, wagons full of cars, that once ran all over the UK from the dedicated terminal at Olympia.

The poster advertising Motorail services at Olympia now long gone.

It was once possible to travel to over 28 destinations around the UK by Motorail.  The service was launched in 1955 with an overnight service from London to Perth.  By 1966 the terminal at Olympia had opened and it was possible to reach destinations such as Inverness, Penzance and Cardiff.  You could even connect with ferry sailings from Dover and Fishguard.  At a time when cars were less reliable and long journeys by road took much longer than today, the service boomed.  By the time of privatisation however the services were less popular, and most were withdrawn by 1995.  First Great Western relaunched a service from Paddington as a supplement to the overnight Night Riviera sleeper to Penzance, but this was withdrawn in 2005. 

My father's parents lived in Weybridge, a Surrey commuter town on the Southwest Main Line.  We would often travel 'up to town' through Clapham Junction for a trip to a cricket match at The Oval or a day in the bright lights of the West End.

Clapham Junction looking towards Waterloo

Clapham Junction is the busiest station for train movements (between 100 and 180 per hour) in Europe.  Both the Southwest Main Line and the Brighton Mainline pass through the station before heading on to Waterloo and Victoria respectively.  This also makes Clapham Junction the busiest station for interchanges between trains.  It was also the site of one of the most serious rail accidents of the twentieth century.  A faulty signal caused the collision of three trains leading to the death of 35 passengers and injuries to 484.

Later, before my mum learnt to drive, we would visit her parents in Sussex by taking the train from Charing Cross or Cannon Street to Ashford.  There we would change trains for the trip across the Romney Marsh to Rye on one of the narrow-bodied Hastings Diesels, a Class 201 DEMU, built for the London - Hastings via Tonbridge Line.  

A narrow-bodied Class 201 Hastings Diesel

The unscrupulous builder of the line saved money by not sufficiently reinforcing the tunnel walls on the route.  When this was discovered, after a collapse of one of the tunnels, the cost of reboring them was considered too great.  Therefore, they narrowed them instead to stop a collapse.  As a result, the tunnels were now too narrow for two standard trains to pass side by side.  The class 201's were built specifically for the route and also provided the Marshlink service from Hastings to Ashford.  When the line was electrified in 1986, the lines through the tunnels were singled so that standard size rolling stock could work the route.

Living in London I was a frequent user of the London Underground.  I would frequently meet friends for drinks alongside the Thames at Hammersmith on the District Line, visit the music shops in Denmark Street via Leicester Square and travelling to my then girlfriends at Acton Town.

An R Stock District Line Train for Richmond at Gloucester Road once my local tube station.  These trains stayed in service until 1983 when they were replaced by more modern D Stocks.  These too have now been withdrawn, replaced by the S Stock between 2013 - 17. 

The Tube is another subject all on its own.  Each of the lines have an interesting history, tales of corporate shenanigans between rival companies and of course the legacy of a Chicago businessman (swindler) Charles Tyson Yerkes.  The Underground has given us not just the blueprint for all the mass transit systems in the world today, but also Metroland, the iconic Harry Beck map and the Johnston typeface. 

It's not just the trains, the stations also hold a fascination especially those in London.

The long demolished Broad Street Station.  Formerly adjacent to Liverpool Street it was immortalised just before closure in Paul McCartney's film Give My Regards to Broad Street.

The capital has, according to Network Rail, seventeen 'Terminal' stations.  That is to say, when you buy a ticket that says "London Terminals' it is valid to any of the seventeen.  However not all of these are a terminus.  What I mean is not all these stations are at the end of the line.  At London Bridge for example, which is in fact London's oldest surviving station, a train could continue on to Charing Cross or Cannon Street before running out of railway.  This got me thinking, just how many stations are there where you can go no further because the rails run out?

In London the answer is twelve National Rail Stations.  As a quiz question spoiler these are: Waterloo, Victoria, Paddington, Marylebone, Euston, Kings Cross, St. Pancras International, Liverpool Street, Fenchurch Street, Cannon Street, Charing Cross and Moorgate.

If you ask most people, they will be familiar with most of them.  Four can be found on the Monopoly board for example.  Most folk living locally to me will have taken the train to Euston or Kings Cross from Lancaster or Leeds at some time or another.  So that got me thinking even more.  What is there at the other end of the line?

With some basic research I found out that there are almost 150 terminal stations in the UK.  From Penzance in Cornwall to Thurso in Scotland.  From Holyhead in the west of Wales to Felixstowe in the east of England.  Some of the stations are in major cities like Liverpool Lime Street, others in small villages such as Gunnislake in Cornwall.  In fact, so fascinated have I become I'm planning a series, visiting as many of the places as I can to see what they are like.

Are there enough of you out there that would read such ramblings?  I suppose if you've got this far there's a fair chance.  To be honest I do enjoy travel writing, I read a lot of Bill Bryson and Paul Theroux.  In fact, Theroux made his name by writing about a train journey from London to Asia and back, calling his book The Great Railway Bazaar.  Now there's a thought.

Perhaps a round trip to Asia is a step to far.  Heysham Port is the closest terminal station to home so that will have to do, for the time being at least.

Heysham Port Station