Not only did this peak hour train turn up with half the usual number of carriages, thus assigning itself instant CTS (Cattle Truck Status) — but it was also 23 minutes late at this point, being scheduled to pass through Rochdale at 8.37. Grin and bear it? Bollocks to that, I wasn’t grinning at this point, put it that way.
After a few weekends recently which have ended on a Monday morning at King’s Cross station — like this one, say — a weekend that, instead, ended on a Monday morning at Cardiff Central station. At least I managed to get on the first truly punctual public transport service experienced since leaving home on Friday morning. I like how the light falls on this one: this is not direct sunlight, instead it is being reflected off the facade of the BBC building across the plaza, behind me.
Collingham, in rural Nottinghamshire, becomes the 445th different named place to be featured on here: so I maintain the record of, more or less, one new place every ten days on average. This illustrates my urge to explore, if nothing else. Pictured, the start of my journey home: two and three-quarter hours later I was back in Hebden Bridge.
Should I have cropped the bits to the left? The fence annoys me a little: but on the other hand I couldn’t lose it without losing the hint of red light, which I like.
A terrifically dull situation, but that was my day for you, with much of the morning spent negotiating seemingly endless roadworks in order to run a relatively simple (but necessary) errand. And I did so in both directions too – this was on the way home. I was waiting at the latest red light, in case you want to report me to the traffic police.
It is said that Birmingham has more canals than Venice, and it’s a believable stat once you start walking around the place.
Dewsbury is not my favourite place for various reasons but it has one saving grace — the railway station, and the excellent pub which is attached. I didn’t have time to visit that establishment today but no matter. The little girl stepped out from between the pillars at the right moment. And she’s being good, not going over the yellow line and all that.
Regular early morning shots seem to have mostly disappeared from the blog; this is the earliest, and the first before 8am, since 20th January, and that was taken when coming into Addis Ababa airport so not exactly normal circumstances. Other than that this is the earliest since 7th October 2022. In all that time Northern Rail might have run a whole morning’s service which didn’t contain at least one train that turned up just that few minutes late…. but I doubt it.
This would be a marvellous sign to see at any point, but the fact that it sits on the outskirts of Bradford makes it more entertaining still, in my opinion. Not to mention the fine optical illusion evident here. Take a good look — it’s almost like one of those ‘impossible objects’ that work in two dimensions but not three.
As made by this board outside Walthamstow Central station this morning. And thanks to ‘good service’ on the tube, Grand Central trains and….. er, OK, Northern (just about) — it was blessed enough. Blessed with very fine weather, at least.
I don’t know whether the 19th century did outdoor seating and umbrellas in quite the same way as the Stubbings Wharf pub does in 2023, but otherwise this picture could well have been taken 150 years ago: man (with beard) waiting for nearby lock to fill, and trying to stop the boat floating away while he does so. It’s a slow way of life on the water, which I guess is why plenty of people like to live it.
Being 42 