"I wonder if this is altogether wise?"

On my travels curiosity occasionally triggers a normally well-hidden sense of adventure and I do things which, on reflection afterwards, may not be well-advised, particularly for an elderly, lone female. A few examples, drawn from quite a long list of incidents, which could have turned out badly but only resulted in enriching experiences, illustrate this tendency.

Hong Kong 1977

My first Far-East trip, in the 1970s, was to Taiwan, described in the post My first visit to Taiwan. On the way out, I had an overnight in Hong Kong and, of course, I decided to leave my hotel and walk downhill towards the waterfront, fascinated by all the shop houses still trading in late evening. It was only next morning that the more-experienced GEC staff I was travelling with pointed out that the area of Wan Chai, which had so fascinated me, was an area of rather ill-repute, not recommended for solo travellers at night.


A view of Hong Kong Harbour in 2004.

Thailand 1988

In connection with the GEC Train Despatcher Project in the 1980s my flights to Thailand arrived at Don Mueang Airport, Bangkok. This was years before the huge Suvarnabhumi Airport opened in 2006. On one trip, for some reason, rather than get an ordinary taxi to my hotel (I was booked into the Hilton at Nai Lert Park), I decided to go for the 'authentic experience' by travelling on a 'local taxi', uncomfortably sharing a small passenger van with a number of Thai people and baskets full of live hens. As we slowly criss-crossed the city through heavy traffic, dropping off each passenger at a different address, I wondered if I'd ever arrive at my hotel and my sense of unease was not helped as the driver seemed to have very little English. But eventually, despite my misgivings, I arrived safely at the Hilton.


Heavy traffic in Bangkok.

On a later trip to Bangkok, I managed to get completely lost exploring on foot in a rather down-market suburb in the north of the city. The streets became narrower and narrower and, after a few twists and turns, I realised that I was totally disorientated. I suddenly realised that the narrow way ahead appeared to be part of a dwelling rather than a footpath, so I decided to turn round and attempt to retrace my steps, but each alley looked the same. After a few minutes of panic (it was only supposed to be a short walk so I'd no money and no means of identification with me), I spotted a wider alley and managed to extricate myself from the tangle of streets.


Street scene in Bangkok

Hong Kong 2004

During this short trip, described here, one day I took a large ferry to one of the Outer Islands and was charmed by the contrast with frenetic Hong Kong. I was fascinated by the coming and going of small ferries between the islands which the locals appeared to use as we would a bus. Some of the smaller ferries didn't bother with mooring: they just came bow to the dock and used power to hold the craft in position for the few seconds it took for passengers to get off and on.


Small ferry between the islands, Hong Kong

I found the temptation to try this overwhelming, and boarded a ferry without knowing the destination, only finding out afterwards it was going to Lantau Island. I knew there were ferries from Lantau back to Hong Kong so I felt reassured and enjoyed a glorious late afternoon cruise.


Late afternoon cruise between the islands, Hong Kong 2004

We arrived at a small dock (parking parallel this time, but still without mooring) so I joined the few other passengers and disembarked. The ferry departed at high speed and the passengers who'd disembarked, knowing where they were going, quickly disappeared. I found myself alone on a barren dock with no indication of human habitation or any regular ferry services. Puzzled, I walked away from the quay along the only access road, looking for any clues. Eventually, I met somebody with enough English to understand my enquiry about ferries back to Hong Kong and he indicated vaguely that I should continue along the country road I was on. After half a mile or so, I spotted a small sign with a ferry symbol pointing right, so I continued with a little more confidence although the road still seemed very rural. I must have been on a 'back road' because suddenly, I burst upon a large modern ferry terminal, brightly lit, noisy and bustling with people. With relief, I purchased a ticket for the next high speed catamaran ferry back to Hong Kong.

Since that visit in 2004, the pace of development in Hong Kong has been frenetic with new roads linking to a number of the islands and multi-storey housing development everywhere. I don't think you could repeat my experience now.

Peru 2005

My Round The World Two trip in 2005 included a visit to Macchu Picchu in Peru. The initial official tour around the site on a rainy afternoon, crowded with Japanese tourists shephered by guides using bullhorns at maximum volume, was a slight disappointment. But, fortunately, I'd arranged to stay overnight at the Sanctuary Lodge Hotel just outside the ruined citadel and I discovered that hotel guests were re-admitted to the site in the evening. The rain had stopped so, armed with a torch from the hotel, I set off confidently for an evening exploring the now-deserted site in the dark and had a marvellous time. Only much later did I realise how easily I could have suffered a disastrous fall hundreds of metres to the Urubamba River below.


Moonrise over the mountains viewed from Machu Picchu

The following morning, the sense of adventure still remained so I arose early to enjoy sunrise in the ruined city, with a few other 'early birds', then was inspired to take the hike to the top of Huayna Picchu (encouraged by the misplaced confidence of my guide from the previous day who'd commented "you'd have no trouble on Huayna Picchu"). Well, I made it to the top but found the steep section of steps terrifying. Fortunately, I didn't know at the time that section was called 'The Stairs of Death'.


Jan at the summit of Huayna Picchu, Machu Pitcchu

Egypt 2005

The last place I visited on the Round the World Two trip was Cairo and a day visiting the pyramids at Giza left me very impressed. I was staying at the Mena Park Hotel, near to the pyramid site, so the following morning I decided to walk to see how close I could get to the impressive monuments, prior to an arranged trip to Saqqara. The report for 11-Feb-2005 in my trip report explains:-

"A tout introduced me to a guide with excellent English who explained the pyramid site did not open until 8 am "But follow me". His claim to fame was a photo shoot in the desert for 'Cosmopolitan' plus friendship with 'Grateful Dead'. We walked through the village hard by the pyramids, through dirt streets thick with rubbish and past the evil-smelling horse and camel stables. Here we hired two small, willing horses for a fairly short ride to the boundary wall of the pyramid site (I should mention I've never been on a horse before in my life!). We stopped at a 12-foot stone wall. Using fairly insubstantial footholds he then shinned up this wall! As I followed, I thought "I wonder if this is altogether wise?" (This has been a recurrent thought throughout my various adventures. Hasn't stopped me, though). Near to the pyramids, there are the most amazing catacombs, with beautiful carvings. Various site security men came up to us and my guide paid them off, so it was all shake hands and exchange "Good morning". As you might imagine, there's quite a thriving black economy going on. We watched the mist rising and the sun come up. It was all quite good. But I explained I had to be back at my hotel for 8:30 am for the 'official' trip. We returned by climbing down the wall, passing lots of people entering the site from the village the same way, presumably for a day's work on the site as security men or supporting the tourist trade. Like India, Egypt never uses one man to do a job if five can do it. The horses were waiting, so we had an exhilarating gallop back to the stables where I said goodbye to my guide, poorer in purse but richer in experience. I was quite relieved not to be sold into white slavery and arrived back at my hotel breathless but in time for the very academic but interesting explanations of my professor guide."

"... we hired two small, willing horses ..." Giza, Eqypt

South Africa 2011

In 2011, I had a wonderful trip to St. Helena Island and Ascension Island. This all went well but, near the start of my trip on my arrival in Cape Town, I did have a 'I wonder if this is altogether wise?' moment. My blog post here records the experience:-

"Within a couple of minutes, both my bags arrived so it was on to the 'meet and greet' point. I wasn't quite sure from my itinerary whether I was being met or not. I thought not and, indeed, having scoured the displayed names decided I was on my own. There were a couple of touts displaying 'Taxi' signs so, too tired to wonder if this was an official arrangement, I spoke to one of them. He immediately directed me to a young fellow standing a little way back and, reaching agreement, we set off towards his car. Any doubts about how official this hire was were removed when, once we were outside the terminal building, my young man called to a group of people sitting around and one of them threw a bunch of car keys to him. So it was no surprise when we headed for the car park and a rather tatty saloon. You know the sort of thing - the rear window mechanism was clearly broken as the window was being held upright by a screwdriver used as a wedge. The words came back to me (as they often do on these jaunts) 'I wonder if this is altogether wise?'. I was miffed when, without discussion, the driver allowed two (fortunately respectable-looking) young ladies to climb aboard. There then followed a few minutes of pantomime whilst the young fellow struggled to extract a ticket from the nearby parking ticket machine. I was so amused at the obvious irritation of the young ladies at this delay that I couldn't be cross. Eventually our driver returned triumphantly with a ticket and we set off, with me registering a token protest about the uninvited passengers. After a few hundred yards, he pulled up at a filling station and the rear seat passenger got out. We carried on towards the city at a furious pace. I couldn't tell the speed because, as you would expect, the speedometer was broken. On the journey, the girl in the front seat fuelled the young driver with some sort of cooked snack she was carrying. We arrived safely at the Cape Grace Hotel and, clutching his fare money, the young driver took off at his accustomed high speed."

Cape Town, showing ship repair yard with Cape Grace Hotel left background

Tristan da Cunha 2016

Perhaps I'm a little more cautious now but in 2016 stubborness induced me to undertake an (organised) climb during the marathon voyage from Argentina to South Africa, visiting the Falklands, South Georgia and Tristan da Cunha (you can find all my posts on this journey here). The Zodiac landing on Nightingale Island involved a perhaps ill-advised scramble up a muddy gulley. My post describing that visit here comments:-

"When my turn for the Zodiac ride came, I discovered that the landing place was a small, protected cove where we stepped out directly onto the rock. A short length of carpet had been placed on the slipperly rock and there were willing hands to help passengers ashore. There was very little space on the rock so the climb started almost immediately. It was perhaps fortunate that I was unable to assess the problems of ascending the muddy gulley before commencing the climb. We were told only grasp green tussock grass for support (brown might give way) and make use of the rope lying alongside the route. On the more vertiginous stretches, expedition team members or our Tristanian guides were positioned to help but I found it a tough scramble and was relieved to arrive at fairly level ground."

Following this climb, I found my right knee joint was painful. After the trip, my doctor diagnosed "a bad sprain, it will improve" but I'm afraid it hasn't.


The Zodiac landing place, Nightingale Island, Tristan da Cunha Group

China 2001

But, on my first visit to China in 2001, I had no premonition about a brush with Beijing police which could have had very unfortunate consequences. The beginning of that trip is described in the post here. After a fascinating tour, I found myself back in a comfortable, European-style hotel with just a couple of hours before transport was booked to take me to the airport for the long trip home. Wanting to make use of every minute, I decided to take a walk in the city, escaping the tourist areas.

I reached a quiet, residential area of modest housing arranged Chinese-style, where a series of gateways facing the street each led to a courtyard with a row of simple houses on either side. Whilst contemplating this architectural arrangement, I took a couple of pictures from the street when a harsh, Chinese voice rang out and I turned to see what I assumed was a very young policeman approaching. He was wearing an immaculate grey uniform and flat cap, with a very obvious sidearm carried in a leather holster. He didn't seem pleased but as he had no English and I had no Chinese so I only surmised that he objected to my taking pictures, although the scene seemed perfectly innocuous to me and, earlier in the trip, I'd taken similar pictures. However, I made a big show of turning the camera off and restoring it to its case, to indicate I'd refrain from photography. By this time, a second very young man had arrived, this time in an immaculate khaki uniform and flat cap, with a similar sidearm in a holster. They seemed emboldened now there were two of them and certainly I felt more intimidated. They roughly took the camera from me and carefully examined it. The Canon EOS I was using at the time used 35mm cassette film and, as they worked out how to open the back, it was clear they intended to expose the film and destroy the images. They returned the open camera to me , with the roll of film dangling from the camera body, leaving me to re-assemble it. I was annoyed, but tried hard not to show it, expecting this to be the end of it. But now, by sign language, they indicated the I should accompany them to some unspecified location where my motives could be properly explored and I really started to panic as I realised that, in less than an hour, I was due to be whisked to the airport and home. I tried to explain to them the problems going with them would create for me. I've no idea how much they understood but they both seemed very young and inexperienced and clearly not quite certain of their best plan. Perhaps my desperation got through to them but, eventually, they waved me away and walked off. It was all I could do not to run all the way back to the hotel.

There's a post script: I'd forgotten, and my adversaries clearly didn't know, the way in which the EOS film camera worked. When you put a new 35mm cassette in, the camera first wound all the unexposed fim onto the take-up spool and, as each exposure was made, it was wound back into the cassette. The law officers had exposed the unused film to daylight but, in failing to pull the film back out of the cassette, had not destroyed the pictures I'd already taken, except for some damage to the very last picture which is shown below.


Beijing street scene (note damage to negative)

A Day on the DMU

As I outlined in the post Operations at the Battlefield Line in 2020, the year has unfolded like no other, due to the Coronavirus pandemic. With special health precautions in place, the Battlefield Line recommenced operations in August using a mixture of diesel railcar, steam-hauled and diesel-hauled services. Against a background of frequently-changing national and local guidance and legislation, passenger numbers have been unpredictable and fewer steam services have been operated.

After the steam and diesel multiple unit turns described in the post linked above, I was next rostered on Sunday, 11th October 2020. In a normal season, a Sunday service would have been steam-hauled but, because of uncertainty over demand, the 2-car Diesel Multiple Unit (DMU) had been rostered. On a steam day, I would have arrived around four hours before the time of the first departure but, with the simpler preparation demanded by the DMU, I allowed what I expected to be a generous 90 minutes.

It was a cool morning with a little drizzle when I arrived, locating the DMU stabled in its usual spot in the long siding called the DMU Siding adjacent to the running line. I smiled to see the destination blind at the north end of the unit had been set to 'BARMOUTH' by the previous driver. The range of destinations offered by the roller blind was 'inherited' from the previous owner, British Rail, and represents places served by the last depot, Tyseley (although some additions have been added to cover Battlefield Line stations).


The 2-car DMU stabled, as normal, in the DMU Siding at Shackerstone: A Day on the DMU (Photo: D. Mould)

All doors on carriages of this era, both passenger and staff access doors, are locked when not in use, using a standard tapered square section key. I entered the carriage at the northern end of the set (51131, half of a 2-car unit) via the Guard's compartment, using a British Rail standard multi-purpose 'T'-handled carriage key.


British Rail standard multi-purpose 'T'-handled carriage key

The driver's two control handles for the unit are stored in the Guard's compartment when the DMU is stabled and, during traffic, are inserted in whichever cab is leading. The control handles comprise the chrome-plated Brake Handle and the brass Select Direction key (invariably called the 'spoon'). To enable the electrical control circuits, each driver also carries a personal Master Key. Having collected the two control handles, I walked through the passenger compartment to reach the driving cab. Checking the inspection sheets, I found that the DMU had been used the previous day, with Carl driving. The only defect shown was a non-working secondman's windscreen wiper which I'd previously noted. The air-operated wipers on these units are rather temperamental. I partially filled-in a new inspection sheet before returning to the ground. I carried out the normal inspections by making a circuit of the DMU, noticing that the destination blind at the southern end had been set to 'BLAENAU FFESTINIOG'. Two of the four 150 h.p. engines required a top-up of engine oil.




Jan carrying out the daily inspection: A Day on the DMU (Photo: D. Mould)

Having closed both battery isolator switches and inserted my master key in the cab, I first attempted to start the engines on 51131. Despite the DMU having been used the previous day (deputising for the Class 33 diesel electric), I found that there was insufficient charge in the battery to crank either engine. So, the battery charger had to be retrieved from the Guard's compartment in 55005, together with the long mains lead to reach from the DMU to the nearest power socket. The 24 volt output from the charger was connected to the charging point on the underframe of 51131 using a heavy-duty low-voltage connector.


DMU at Shackerstone: Battery charging socket

To my relief, a little over 30 minutes connected to the charger allowed me to start both engines on 51131. Fortunately, the battery on the 'Bubble Car' was able to start its engines without the need for re-charge. With the charger and mains lead re-stowed on 55005, I updated the inspection sheet whilst waiting for the engine-driven compressors to generate sufficient control air to allow Electro Pneumatic (E.P.) control of the engine throttle settings and the Final Drives which select direction of travel and connect the gearbox outputs to the wheels. Once I was ready, a short 'pop' on the horn alerted the signalman, who immediately pulled 'off' the ground disc signal which allowed me to leave the DMU siding and gently drift down to platform 1 at Shackerstone. I was surprised at the reasonable crowd of passengers awaiting the train's arrival.

To meet Coronavirus regulations, a volunteer was on duty at the station entrance to 'Meet and Greet' visitors, briefing them on the arrangements in force and collecting contact details (a requirement to support infection tracing, when required). Tickets were being sold from the traditional booking office window. The Guard, supported by the Travelling Ticket Inspector (TTI) and a volunteer periodically sanitising features like coach door handles quickly prepared the train for boarding and the 11:00 departure left only about four minutes late. After the slight 'hiccup' starting the engines, the DMU ran flawlessly for the rest of the day.

Because of Coronavirus, the intermediate station stop at Market Bosworth has been temporarily suspended. As we made our way to Shenton, the sun came out and remained out for most of the day, producing pleasant, mild conditions. To my amazement, Shenton car park was full on our arrival and stayed full all day. The pottery and glassworks were open and the Covid-adapted buffet at Shenton was kept busy all day providing takeaway refreshments to visitors via an opened sash window facing the platform. The various station seats on the platform had been supplemented by picnic tables, providing plenty of socially-distanced seating. Quite a holiday atmoshere prevailed.


Visitors enjoying the Autumn sun at Shenton: A Day on the DMU (Photos: D. Mould)

At 11:35, the DMU returned to Shackerstone. The picture below shows the view approaching the signal box. 'Single manned' vehicles have a Driver Surveillance Device (DSD), more commonly called the 'deadman's handle' to stop the train in the event of driver incapacitation. Alone in the cab, surrendering the train staff to the signalman on arrival involves carefully setting the approach speed (5 m.p.h. on the immediate approach to the signalbox, then 5 m.p.h. through the crossover to platform 1). Then, the train is allowed to coast, the deadman's handle (part of the throttle control) is released and the driver carries the staff across to the right hand window, near to the signalman on the 'token landing'. Just by this window is an 'Override' pushbutton. Pressing and holding this prevents the brakes from being applied. Keeping one finger on the override, the driver leans out and hands the staff to the signalman. The driver can then cross back to the driving seat and operate the deadman's control, again preventing the brakes from being applied. Only a few seconds elapse between releasing the deadman's (or the override) and automatic brake application so the aim is to appear unhurried and nonchalant whilst avoiding automatic braking as the driver crosses the cab, excessive speed into the crossover or the train just 'stalling' with the brakes released because of the extra friction when passing through the tight reverse curve of the crossover.


View from DMU approaching Shackerstone. The upper disc of the 2-disc ground signal is 'off', for the DMU to arrive in platform 1: A Day on the DMU (Photo: D. Mould)

The Victorian Tea Rooms on the platform at Shackerstone were also providing a limited takeaway menu. The various station seats on the platform were supplemented by small round, cast iron tables and picnic tables. In addition, the attractive design of the station building (originally shared by other stations on the Ashby and Nuneaton Joint Railway) features a pleasant covered but open-sided verandah which is also furnished with seats and small tables, offering plenty of socially-distanced seating. Johnathon was kept quite busy all day running the tea room.

Passenger numbers on the 12:30 and 14:00 departure from Shackerstone were good and the sun continued to shine. Before the last departure of the day from Shackerstone (at 15:30), I took the opportunity to visit Chris and Jo who run the shop on platform 2. The layout of this shop, too, has been re-arranged and a large screen provided on the counter to meet Coronavirus regulations.


Platform 2 at Shackerstone, with the shop on the right (Photo: D. Mould)

The final departure from Shackerstone wasn't very busy. It was only after our arrival at Shenton that the Guard learned that a booked party of 25 had arrived by coach at Shackerstone after the 15:30 departure had left. We delayed the return from Shenton a few minutes while the coach drove from Shackerstone to Shenton so that we could at least give the party a 1-way ride back to Shackerstone.

There was one final incident in the day as we approached Shackerstone. The Down Outer Home signal is a rather nice lattice post upper quadrant signal, mechanically operated by wire. When 'on' the arm should stand at '9 o'clock' clockface: when 'off' it should be raised 45 degrees ('10.30' clockface). As I approached, I could see that the arm was at '2 o'clock' which can occur if the arm stop is defective, the wire is tight and the signalman is energetic. This counts as a 'signal imperfectly displayed' and the Rule Book says it should be treated as a 'stop'. So I stopped. There's no working Signal Post Telephone at this location so the Guard and I independently tried to call the signalman by mobile phone. The Guard got through first and we obtained authority to pass the signal and complete our final run. By the time the passengers had got off, doors been locked and I'd moved the DMU into the DMU Siding for stabling, the Signalman had walked up to the errant signal, climbed the post, put the signal arm back to 'stop' and returned to his box. The final picture below shows a fairly quiet Shackerstone station.


Shackerstone station: A Day on the DMU (Photos: D. Mould)

Other DMU Posts on this website

To view all my posts on the DMU at the Battlefield Line click here, which displays them in reverse date of posting order.

Pictures

A Day on the DMU

Railway Trollies

Simple Trolley

The simplest design of trolley comprised a substantial rectangular wooden base supported on two wooden frames running fore-and-aft. These frames carried four inverted U-shaped notches serving as simple bearings for two wheelsets (an axle with two flanged wheels set at the correct gauge for the railway). Usually, no 'underkeeps' were provided on the axle bearings, allowing the trolley to be quickly removed from the track by lifting the wooden base off the wheelsets and then removing the wheelsets clear of the line. Pushed along the track, this was a simple and versatile way of moving track materials to where they were required. When I was an active volunteer at Birmingham Railway Museum (see blog post here), this was still the standard method of moving materials around the site.

In more modern times, a rectangular, horizontal steel frame is carried on four wheels mounted in cast axleguards, replacing the earlier heavy wooden framework.


Steel-framed 4-wheel rail trolley (Battlefield Line, 2020)

Similar simple designs can be found on other railways. The picture below shows a type in use in Burma. The extensions on the side frames provide four 'handles' to assist in manhandling the vehicle on and off the track.


Metre gauge rail trolley used in Burma (MyanmaRailways 2019)

Further development sometimes divided the horizontal frame into two sections, each carrying two wheels. The two sections can be simply locked together to form a four-wheel trolley, with the construction in two sections making transportation to the work site before use easier.

Inspection Trolley

Traditionally, permanent way gangers were responsible for maintaining the line in a specific area which could involve a number of miles of track so man-powered inspection trollies were sometimes provided to facilitate the (usually) daily inspections. The view below shows one Great Western 3-wheel design of inspection trolley. Note the clips on the outrigger to the 'third wheel' which support a specially-shaped key hammer with a long wooden shaft. The thinner end of the hammer head was for knocking back in displaced wooden keys (which held bullhead rail in place in the cast rail chair fixed to the sleeper). Over the years, spring steel keys started to replace wooden keys; 'flat bottom' rail profile (also called Vignoles) came to replace bullhead rail; continuous welded rail (CWR) avoided the disconinuities of fishplated track resulting in permanent way maintenance on modern railways being very different from those far-off days.


3-wheel inspection trolley, as featured in the film 'The Titfield Thunderbolt'

I've written a short post on The Titfield Thunderbolt here which includes a link to my other posts about this well-loved Ealing film and the locomotive which starred in it.

Mentioning a key hammer reminds me of the Tipton Ganger I knew in the late 1950s. He was expected to carry out daily walking inspections of his complex area but decided that shouldering a standard key hammer for hours at a time was too tiring, so he carried out patrols with a fishplate spanner. As the name implies, this is designed for tightening fishplate bolts and is terminated in a long metal shaft to allow sufficient torque to be applied to the bolt. He decided anything a key hammer could do, a fishplate spanner could do, without the weight penalty. Many years later, I became a volunteer at Manchester Museum of Science and Industry (there's a personal history here with a list of my posts) and, when carrying out volunteer Operating Officer duties there which included a daily track inspection, I confirmed the wisdom of the Tipton Ganger's technique!

Pump Trolley

Pump trollies had four wheels and were propelled by working pump handles up and down, often using two or more men.


Publicity shot from 'The Titfield Thunderbolt' showing the 'Pump' trolley used in the film

A 'pump' trolley also featured in the comedy film 'The Great St. Trinian's Train Robbery', made in 1966 on the Longmoor Military Railway. There's an article about this film on Wikipedia here.


'Pump' trolley used in the comedy film 'The Great St. Trinians Train Robbery'

During my visit to the 2019 'Lionsmeet' model event at Bournemouth (described in the post here), I photographed a rather splendid 5-in gauge model of a 'Pump' trolley, actually powered by two small electric motors and remote controlled by radio!


A splendid model of a 'pump' rail trolley, displayed at Lionsmeet 2019, Bournemouth (the control unit to the left is the remote radio controller for the model)


The 'pump' trolley model is powered by two electric motors each driving the adjacent axle via bevel gears (Lionsmeet 2019, Bournemouth)

Powered Trolley

Powered railway trollies could be larger and travel further. In general, petrol engines have been used as the motive power (sometimes production automobile engines) but electric vehicles powered from batteries are also manufactured.

Wickham of Ware built powered rail trollies over a long period. One of their powered trollies featured in 'The Great St. Trinian's Train Robbery'.



During the time I spent as a volunteer at the Manchester Museum of Science and Industry, I had an opportunity to drive one of the Wickham powered vehicles. Fitted with a car engine (Morris, I think), gearbox and foot pedals the experience was like driving a car without a steering wheel.


Wickham Inspection Trolley at Manchester

More modern designs used in the UK tend to omit weather protection, as shown in this picture of a 4-seat powered trolley awaiting restoration at the Battlefield Liine. This type of trolley can often be used to tow a 4-wheel trolley carrying tools and materials.


4-seat powered rail trolley

In 2001, during a visit to Glenbrook Vintage Railway in New Zealand (described here), they had two 3 foot 6 inch gauge motorised inspection trollies on display.



Motorised Inspection Trollies (Glenbrook Vintage Railway, 2001)

Rail Trollies in Thailand

But the experience which always comes to mind happened in 1989 during commissioning of a Train Despatcher Telephone system we'd designed for GEC used on a railway project in Thailand. At the time, overall control of railway trains throughout the country used long-distance telephone circuits carried on open-wires on old-fashioned telegraph poles (There's a brief post here). At various times during the execution of this project, I went out to Thailand to assist and, occasionally when problems arose, I went out in the field to carry out tests or investigate the difficulty. There was one branch line in southern Thailand where unacceptable levels of audible noise were periodically present on the telephone circuits. Normal circuit testing had failed to reveal the intermittent problem and sending a fault team out by road hadn't improved our understanding (the roads were only near to the railway occasionally) so we persuaded the railway to lay on a motorised inspection trolley so that we could drive the whole length of the branch looking for possible external factors to account for the problem.

I joined a couple of G.E.C. engineers and we drove by car to Chachoengsao, as far as I remember, where we found the powered inspection trolley and the railway inspector who was to drive the trolley. There was some delay whilst we waited for a diesel multiple unit to load its passengers and depart ahead of us but at last we set off. Back then, most of the lines were single with authority for trains to proceed given by electric token, but I had a nasty feeling rail trollies were not protected by this system so I felt rather vulnerable in our basic, lightweight trolley (There's a brief introduction to the principles of railway single line working here). I'd also noticed the bamboo flagpole, topped by a small and rather dirty red flag, mounted on our trolley which I assumed was intended to make us more conspicuous should we meet a train. The feeling of insecurity was heightened by the seats being not far above the rails with no enclosing bodywork which made the speed seem much greater. The inspector/driver was in the front left seat, I was in the front right seat, wielding a video camera to record what I could. We were separated by a Briggs and Stratton petrol engine (10 h.p., I think). At that time, I had a lawn mower powered by a similar Briggs and Stratton so I had confidence that we would not get stranded but the engine was raucous and the noise, combined with the heat of the sun which beat down on us remorselessly, made us all quickly tire. I realised that the first part of the journey, as we passed through a number of country stations, was just 'positioning' to reach the junction where the offending branch line diverged.


Typical minor railway station. Note the telegraph pole on the right carrying the Train Despatcher circuits involved in the GEC project (Railways in Thailand: 1989)

After one or two hours of travelling (it seemed much longer), we reached the junction station and started our survey of the branch. We seemed to be passing through a farmed area with tall crops on both sides and the condition of the telegraph poles and open wires was generally good. Nothing suggested a reason for our telephone transmission problems. Suddenly, about halfway along the branch, the farmland gave way to one of the largest high voltage switchyards I've ever seen, right next to the railway and with numerous overhead cables crossing or running parallel to the railway. The induction from this installation was more than enough to account for the problems but people working on the project had been either unaware of its existence or failed to grasp its relevance. Once we'd identified the problem, G.E.C. were subsequently able to mitigate its effects. We completed our survey to the end of the branch but found nothing else untoward. I felt vindicated that our trip had identified the problem but my G.E.C. colleagues, battered by the sun and deafened by engine noise had had enough and phoned for an air-conditioned car to return to Bangkok in comfort.

But on the basis of 'I may never pass this way again', I decided to spend a few more hours returning, as originally planned, on the trolley with the railway inspector/driver. I discovered that my concerns about our safety had not been entirely groundless. Returning along the branch, I found the inspector frequently referring to a page of what looked like a railway timetable. The inspector had very little English and I still have even less Thai, so I couldn't explore my concerns with him but his anxiety level seemed to be increasing. Abruptly, he stopped the trolley on a rural level crossing. We both climbed out and, when he started to slide out the simple lifting beams, I assisted until four wooden handles had been deployed. By then, it was obvious that he intended to manhandle the trolley clear of the track so together we 'walked' the trolley clear of the line. Almost immediately, over the tops of the crops, I saw one of the Hitachi diesel locomotives approaching with a passenger train. Within seconds the train had disappeared and we both set the trolley back on the rails. I realised that he had chosen a level crossing to 'dismount' the trolley since, with the road surface level with the top of the rails, the job was much easier.

We completed the long journey back without further excitement. I made a videotape on that day which I must try to get converted. Later in 1989, the whole project was completed and an 'I&C Seminar' was held at a Bangkok Hotel where G.E.C. outlined what had been achieved to a large group of senior managers from the railway. The seminar is described in the post mentioned above).

There's a postscript to this tale. During my visits to Thailand in connection with the G.E.C. project, I'd met Sanpasiri Viriyasiri, founder of the Thai Railfan Club, who was carrying out an ambitious plan to open a railway museum in an existing warehouse building in Chatuchak Park, Bangkok. In 1990, with the Train Despatcher Project complete, I returned to Bangkok to spend a few days helping to ready this museum for the official opening and that trip is described in the post here. One of the exhibits at that museum (sadly, now closed) was an inspection trolley similar to one described above we used for our survey.


Motorised inspection Trolley similar to the one I travelled on in Thailand pictured at the Bangkok Railway Museum in 1990.

The Rail Trolley Trust

The Rail Trolley Trust is a registered charity formed in 2014 dedicated to the preservation and display of Rail Trollies, petrol, diesel and electric. They've a fascinating website here.

Ty Gwyn 2020

Ty Gwyn is a small commercial woodland in north Wales extending to about 27 hectares (66 acres), first planted well before I became involved. In 2009-2010, around half of the plantation was harvested and then re-stocked with Sitka spruce and mixed broadleaves (the areas coloured yellow on the plan below). A further 10 hectares was harvested and similarly re-stocked in 2015 (the area coloured green on the plan below). The balance of the site is being allowed to mature further. For administrative purposes, plantations are divided into a series of 'compartments' according to species and planting date. Ty Gwyn has nine compartments (the colouring on the plan below simplifies these distinctions).


Click for larger image

On 29th September 2020 I visited the site with Dean to discuss the maintenance programme for Ty Gwyn with Will Tomkins of Fountains Forestry who manage Ty Gwyn. The upland, exposed site can be bleak at times but, although the day had started overcast and rather cold, by the time we arrived on site there was bright sun and little wind, making for a very pleasant visit.

Access from a farm track is via a single gate leading to a system of internal forest roads. Beyond the access gate, the southern road leads south-westerly to just short of the western site boundary. A little over halfway along the southern road, a short link road connects to the northern road which runs roughly parallel to the southern road from just short of the western site boundary to the Pool in the east. The forest roads had been flailed as part of routine maintenance earlier in the year and were in excellent condition so we toured the site in Will's 4X4.

On entering the site, the area of the left of the road is the 2010 re-planting, now well-established and showing very good growth rates.


View looking south west from the access gate with the 2010 planting on the left: Ty Gwyn 2020 (Photo: D. Mould)

The area on the right of the road is the younger 2015 planting. Here the weed growth is still more apparent than the trees but Will assured me that the crop had 'got away' very successfully and was through the early problems and showing excellent growth rates.


View looking west from the access gate with the 2015 planting in the centre: Ty Gwyn 2020 (Photo: D. Mould)

Inspection of individual trees confirmed sturdy growth.


2015 planting: Ty Gwyn 2020 (Photo: D. Mould)

We continued south-west along the southern road, passing the oldest stand of spruce, now around 40 feet tall.


View looking south from the link road, showing oldest spruce: Ty Gwyn 2020 (Photo: D. Mould)

Next, we took the link road which falls into a shallow valley, with the young 2015 planting on both sides of the road, before climbing to the junction with the north road.


Panoramic view looking north along the link road with 2015 planting to left and right: Ty Gwyn 2020 (Photo: D. Mould)
Click for larger view

Our next inspection was westerly along the northern road to the site boundary, through the 2010 planting. Originally, a mature plantation managed by the Forestry Commission lay to the west of the boundary. Welsh Devolution brought about many changes and that land is now part of the Welsh Government Woodland Estate, who have felled a wide strip.

The northern boundary of Ty Gwyn is provided with some wind protection by a narrow strip of sitka and mixed broadleaves, mainly dating from 1995. Common varieties of trees have suprisingly shallow root systems and destruction by 'toppling' in windy conditions (called 'windblow') is a risk, often covered by insurance, as is the other major risk during dry weather, fire.


View looking south-west along the northern road: Ty Gwyn 2020 (Photo: D. Mould)

This northern strip, which includes oak and birch, has deliberately been left to develop its own character to provide a habitat which encourages wildlife.


Broadleaves above the Pool: Ty Gwyn 2020 (Photo: D. Mould)

Some years ago, a small pool was created, near the end of the northern road, by damming a small stream which runs across the site. At that time, the southern edge of the pool was fringed by mature spruce but this was harvested in 2015. Slowly, natural regeneration and the 2015 sitka planting is restoring the original pool setting.


The Pool: Ty Gwyn 2020 (Photo: D. Mould)


Jan and Will at the Pool: Ty Gwyn 2020 (Photo: D. Mould)


Panoramic view of the Pool: Ty Gwyn 2020 (Photo: D. Mould)
Click for larger view

Reassured that all was well, we left the trees to continue their task of "sequestering carbon".

My posts about Ty Gwyn

You can find all my posts about Ty Gwyn here (in reverse date-of-posting order), with links to albums of pictures.

Pictures of Ty Gwyn

Pictures from this visit are at Ty Gwyn 2020
You can find all my albums of pictures of Ty Gwyn here.