Saturday 30th August 2025, 11.30am (day 5,119)
I’ll go with that. In fact I’d quite like this T-shirt, which is one reason I took a photograph of it. As seen on platform 17 of Leeds station this morning.
T-shirt axiom
Being 42
Life, one day at a time
Category Archives: Transport
Angry tractor
Wednesday 6th August 2025, 1.40pm (day 5,095)
Tell me you don’t see it. It even has a tongue.
Anxiety at Annandale Water
Sunday 3rd August 2025, 12.05pm (day 5,092)
Day two of the journey home, so a day spent largely behind the wheel. Only at the lunchtime stop, Annandale Water services (it’s been on before) was there the chance for photography. All motorway service stations are places of transience: if anyone stops for longer than 30 minutes, which is about what we managed, I would wonder why. So this little critter shouldn’t be too worried. I’m sure they’ll be back soon enough.
Blockship
Monday 28th July 2025, 3.05pm (day 5,086)
At the start of World War 2, a good portion of the British Navy was berthed in the immense natural harbour of Scapa Flow, the entrances of which were defended by a range of methods including the sinking of obsolete ships in the channels. That these defenses were inadequate was proven when a U-Boat snuck in anyway and sunk HMS Royal Oak with the loss of hundreds of lives. As a result, Churchill ordered the building of the barriers that now bear his name and block off all entrance to Scapa Flow on its western side — though, in a move typical of many public works projects, these were not in fact finished until literally four days after the war had ended. Anyway, the Barriers now act as causeways linking Orkney’s south-eastern group of islands to the Mainland, and the blockships still sit there, rusting away and playing home to the occasional lobster pot.
Speed up, to the cemetery
Sunday 27th July 2025, 1.05pm (day 5,085)
For those that don’t know, signs like these on British roads indicate one can drive at the ‘national speed limit’, which is no less than 60mph. Anyone doing so on this road, however, may as well presume to end up in the cemetery to which it leads, visible over there on the sea shore. Perhaps the road traffic planners of Stromness, Orkney, have a morbid sense of humour. Or perhaps my using of this photo suggests that it’s just me.
Lybster harbour
Friday 25th July 2025, 5.05pm (day 5,083)
Ever further northward we travel. Only one shot in the near-14 years of this blog has been taken from further north and still been in the UK — that being the one in Thurso on 13/7/25 — but this is a status it will keep only 24 hours. Who cares anyway, Lybster harbour was a tranquil spot on a beautiful evening. Impossible to believe that 150 years ago the herring industry meant this was one of the busiest ports in the country. It isn’t now, for sure.
Bad shot of great bridge
Thursday 10th July 2025, 7.05pm (day 5,068)
This is the fifth photo of one or other of the Forth bridges to appear on here, and all apart from one (17/8/2021) have been taken while moving, usually on a train though the first one was an exception, as I was a passenger in a car on that occasion. Meaning none of them have been of the rail bridge: when on a train, all you get to see of it are some close-up girders. Anyway, I am sure this is a terrible photograph in some ways but in other ways I quite like it. It looks like something ephemeral, maybe three stupendous maypoles lined up over the estuary.
Stop! then stop again!
Tuesday 8th July 2025, 6.20pm (day 5,066)
Roadworks on Keighley Road continue to increase in both volume and density. Soon the entire street may disappear, collapsing in on itself to form a kind of roadwork singularity, or possibly a new form of matter, which will, while largely inert, occasionally flare up into frenzied and noisy activity at, like, 7 in the morning. Having thereby woken up any sleepers in the vicinity it will then return to its inactive state for the rest of the day.
On the road?
Friday 4th July 2025, 7.00pm (day 5,062)
Following on from Wednesday, another picture of someone with a less-than-orthodox approach to their housing arrangements. I know of people (hi, Beth & Steve) who live permanently in such a manner but it’ll never be for me, there are too many home comforts of which I am fond and which a mobile home or narrowboat is never going to give me. But on a day when ‘independence’ might be on the minds of some, each to their own.
The (orange) Trent and Mersey Canal
Saturday 28th June 2025, 1.40pm (day 5,056)
The picture was taken mainly because of the bright orange water of the Trent and Mersey Canal at this point (Kidsgrove, on the Staffordshire/Cheshire border). Such things are not usually a good sign. The mystery of why this colour is there was not solved until just a short while ago, as I prepared to post this by looking up some information about the Harecastle Tunnel, the north entrance of which is just visible in the background, to the left of the guys on the towpath. There is an old version of this tunnel running parallel to it that has been closed for over a century now, and apparently, leaches iron ore into the water. So it’s always orange — this is not some recent chemical spill. I don’t imagine drinking the water does anyone much good. Unless they’re anaemic I suppose.
Being 42 