According to figures published by the Strategic Rail Authority for the financial year 2002/3, 773969 people began their rail journeys from Crewe Railway Station, yet only 763846 people ended journeys there. This represents a net de-population of 10123 people in one year alone, by train alone. This is as close to 10000 people as makes no odds to me.
In the April 2001 census, Crewe had a recorded population of 67683 people. If we’re being generous we can round this up to a guestimate of 70000 people by April 2003.
Given these figures we see that within seven years of April 2003, in other words April 2010, Crewe will become a desolate no-mans-land inhabited only by temporary, transient people on their way to elsewhere.
Postman Pat called this week, delivering somewhat of a surprise. Amid the usual bumf from marketing robots, and a letter addressed to Mr. Austin Allego (more in a future post), he brought 2 DVDs from Paul Balmer of Waterway Routes. Here they are photographed on my nice brown duvet, as my desk is far too cluttered for them to fit on to.
The two DVD sets (Birmingham Canal Navigations and Caldon Canal) each contain two DVDs, a map, an explanatory booklet and a catalogue leaflet, as shown in the awful quality photograph here.
So what is on the DVDs? Well, one from each set contains an overview of the canal system in question, with highlights of the journeys. The other DVD contains a speeded up journey of the entire system, filmed from the box of the boat. Each is narrated by Paul himself (I assume).
Both are fascinating, and well worth the price (especially my free ones), and should Paul ever produce editions for the Lancaster Canal or Staffordshire and Worcestershire Canal I’ll happily fork out the money for them.
Yesterday, while helping clear out my uncle’s house before his move to the new bungalow, I discovered these wonderful photographs of him going on holiday sometime in the late 50s or early 60s.
The Aeroplane
Nothing remarkable here, you may think. It looks quite a small ‘plane, with a big nose.
All aboard!
The passengers are boarding. My uncle, Mr. Harry Blews, is the chap directly below the “T”, and his wife, Mrs. Mary Blews, stands below the “C”.
So far we see nothing out of the ordinary. But hang on! Harry Blews isn’t the sort of man to waste money on airport parking, even in the days when England was still using the Turnip as currency. Neither would he trust his beloved Humber Hawk to the care of Johnny Southerner whilst on a trip to foreign shores.
So then, where is the car?
Crikey!
Yes, for the holiday maker in a hurry, or indeed Morcambe and Wise in That Riviera Touch, the Bristol 170 could carry three cars and their passengers, and at a price that Textiles Manager from Preston could afford. Fantastic. Its almost like science fiction, but from 50 years ago. Can you imagine Ryan Air doing this today? Hell, they’d charge you extra for carrying the spare wheel.
Jeremy Clarkson once said that the grounding of Concorde was “a massive leap backwards for mankind”. Thats as maybe, but in the 50s people flew on holiday with their cars, and in the 21st Century they don’t. That is what I call a massive leap backwards.
Here is a little bit more information about that particular aircraft…
Already this year I’ve travelled more rail miles that in the preceeding ten years. Two Stafford/Preston return trips has reminded me why I avoid the railways like the plague: The Virgin Voyager.
A Voyager at Stafford
Some people might say that they represent a giant leap forward in train technology. These people are probably short, have no sense of smell and enjoy rollercoasters. And are probably clinically insane.
Myself, I’m of above average height, can still smell despite a good few years chain-smoking and hate all fairground rides. I’ll neatly sidestep the sanity issue (I’m typing this on a Datawind Ubisurfer – I must have been bananas to buy it).
My first major moan about the Voyager concerns the piss-awful seats and lack of legroom. Now when I say that I am of above average height I mean that I am abiout six foot four. This doesn’t put me into the realm of basketball players or circus freaks, but it does stop me sitting in most of the seats on a Voyager. Table seats are fine, if you want to share a table with a drunken Scottish squaddie (are they all AWOL and hiding on the trains, or is it always the same one?), and the priority wheelshair users’ seating has sufficient room, but the majority of the seating would require me to undergo a leg-ectomy for me to use them. I suppose I could sit sideways across two seats, but that is uncouth, yobbish behaviour for the sort of folk who play their music loud in public.
Yobbish behaviour
When Charles Darwin designed the human olfactory organs he must have had quite a chuckle to himself when he put in the bits that enable you to smell the unique aroma of a Virgin Voyager. Is a whiff of flatulence combined with a hint of smoke? A solid leavening of used toilet with a dash of electrical burning? Or is it,as I suspect, a full blown massive turd secreted directly on to an electric heater full of cat hair? The reason for this is apparently that the toilet effluent tanks vent into the bodywork, and that the wiring is prone to going shonky. Not even the APT had these features!
An APT, not on fire.
But these are just minor nit-picking flaws, I can almost hear you say. Surely the superior ride quality makes up for them? Well, yes, of course, assuming your idea of a nice journey involves lurching from side to side, up and down, and occassionally backwards and forwards. During the course of typing this, by netbook as been dislodged from the little wanky tray-table no less than three times. I’d have a smoother ride in a Land Rover. Across a bomb site. Under shelling.
The Next Generation Voyager will have more comforts.
And let us not forget, the government spent millions between 1959 and 1974 to electrify the West Coast Main Line, and now Captain Beardy is pissing all over this by running diesel trains on it. Money well spent! Its like buying the entire run of Star Trek Voyager on DVD, and copying them on to ropey old VHS tapes, then scrubbing the tapes with magnets before watching them.
But never mind. Just watch a video of better times.
Some photos of our day out at the Foxfield Railway, celebrating Bill’s forthcoming wedding.
Click for more on Flickr
The Foxfield Railway is a former colliery line just outside Blythe Bridge. The Wikipedia article has more information, but doesn’t have this little map thing:
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