Gwiwer

My late father started studying with the OU and tuned into BBC2 at those time appropriate to what ever he was studying. I forget the subject matter now. I do however remember him being very wary of the OU summer school at the University of Bath. Having never progressed beyond Public Elementary in his formal education thanks to the conditions of the time arising from the activities of a certain moustache-sporting German this was all very new to him but he was determined that he "could do something with his life". His concerns were not borne out. He was worried that it would be a case of "University - Big; OU - tiny and in a couple of rooms". It was very different on reality and he returned having thoroughly enjoyed himself. Not only was the OUSS given the run of the entire university but this included supervised visits to the greenhouse where "research" was being lawfully conducted into the cannabis plant. A heated glasshouse full of them! Visits were supervised and timed but hey. The only time my dad ever got up close and personal as a student with recreational substances! He didn't complete his course. As I remember he suffered one of several redundancies in his working life and found he could no longer afford the fees to continue whilst on the dole. To his admitted dismay he felt embarrassed and shamed that he was "unable to make anything of his life". And he went to his maker pleading much the same despite having been thought of by many who knew him as a good, kind, thoughtful and caring chap. He never wore a kipper tie either; dad was always a cravat man and could look dapper as you like when occasion required. Even when it didn't he often chose to sport a cravat just for sitting in the lounge doing crosswords, listening to music or reading the paper.

After-school pick-up ten minutes. It’s all over that quickly SUVs are not a feature. The kids mostly walk home as it’s within a few hundred metres at most. Those who live on outlying farms do get picked up. In suitable vehicles. Such as daddy’s Land Rover or work van. Or mummy’s little runabout. SUVs don’t fit our lanes and there’s nowhere to park them. Very few of us can park at home - we mostly use the central car park which is free, belongs to the town and is within 3-4 minutes walk of most homes.

Welcome to Wetnessday which, oddly, is not living up to its name at all. In common with other ERs the shiny thing is doing its best. Not a good night and I suspect sleeping too long might be the cause. I’ll try adjusting the llama to 6.30 not 7.00. His Furship met the neighbour through the front window yesterday and was unimpressed. Neighbour (Teddy)’s face was something at being presented with hind-quarters at close-quarters. Then there was one last trip up the tree Before it came down Leaving a clear view of and from the cottage

G'devening all. A busy old day today had been and no mistake. Thursday cleaning was done this morning because visitors were expected after lunch. They duly arrived and, as had been arranged with them previously, saws were brought and the dead cordyline tree was removed. It now consists of three stumps each approximately 18" tall while the rest has been taken for recycling. How does one recycle a tree? One's friends take it in their car to a rural location, land which they happen to own, and place the cut sections alongside a stream. Nature will then take its course over the coming years while we hope that wildlives, various, find a good home. So the tree is gone and a better and uninterrupted view of the cottage has arrived. Surprisingly it doesn't look too bare. We had tea and cake (lemon & basil for those playing at home) which was described as "lush" and they went on their way with nothing more for thanks than a brown muddling voucher. That was as much as I could persuade them to take. Fission Chips were enjoyed for a slightly early dinner just before 6 as I was quite peckish. The earliness of the feast allowed me to engage in a very "me" sort of evening. Our open top "Coaster" bus has been running since Easter and I have already made a couple of trips on it but unusually - for a rural area and a route largely pitched at tourism - there are some evening trips. So I boarded the 18.35 to St. Ives and Penzance and was pleasantly surprised to find I wasn't alone. There were around ten others aboard and we even collected a few more at remote farms and isolated spots along the coast road. With superb scenery and a lowering sun the cool conditions on the upper deck in the open-air didn't really bother me and I enjoyed the ride until we joined the main A30 towards Penzance. At which point I opted for the lower deck having sat upstairs for 90 minutes of the two-hour trip. And then back home aboard our little red evening bus. One of those the council includes in its contracted services and which, again, was surprisingly well used for a Tuesday in April. When peak-season arrives there will be even later buses along the coast - later than there have been ever before. I shall sample the 20.35 trip at some point, remarkably late in the evening for an open-top bus to be out but it doesn't reach Penzance until 22.30. And there is still a bus home even at that hour as the last is at 23.20 thanks to us having a pro-public transport unitary authority who support such a service. Which is, in turn, supported by a modest number of passengers most evenings.

Not Kirribilli then? That might be a better place for a hazard-reduction burn.

Does that mean you were a shot in the dark. That might give rise to a misconception

One came down here They are widely, if thinly, distributed around the world now having largely ceased to operate in London. One tourist route, the T15, still uses them between the Tower of London and Charing Cross / Trafalgar Square but it's not within the TfL fares scheme. A number of Routemasters went to the Niagara Falls where some still are. A handful have ben purchased as hospitality units or mobile homes and have travelled through Europe and the US. You won't spend a day in central London without seeing one as there are also numerous "tours" such as the afternoon tea run and the ghost tour which use Routemasters in addition to a handful in use on sightseeing trips alongside high-capacity modern vehicles. My favourite iteration was the long Green Line coach, type code RCL, which were originally used from Aldgate to Grays, Upminster, Corbett's Tey and Brentwood. They didn't last long and were moved onto the more prestigious Tunbridge Wells - London - Windsor routes but again were moved on after a couple of years to be downgraded to buses as the Green Line coach network went over to one-person operated coaches. The 709, Baker Street - Godstone, hung on until 1976 as the last bastion of crew-worked Green Line service using a trio of RCLs. This unlikely operation comprised just three trips in each weekday peak and two on Sundays; it was felt that the cost of new vehicles specifically for that was unaffordable so the Routemasters remained for around six years after they were taken off other routes. I enjoyed riding them between Croydon and Horsham on that long route through the varying Surrey countryside. 11 litre engines and rear air suspension gave them a turn of speed and a degree of comfort their red city cousins didn't quite match. Geared for the faster Green Line coach services they moved given an open road. Not even the "normal" 100 green Routemaster buses (type RML) built for the country area matched that; they featured the standard 9 litre engine and leaf springs.

"Routemaster" is a term used increasingly, but erroneously, for any old-style bus with an open rear platform Usually red ones but I have heard the term applied to those in other colours. As @PhilJ W says a Routemaster was actually a specific marque of vehicle designed and produced for London and built by AEC and Park Royal Vehicles. Just shy of 3000 were built all but 50 going to London; the balance were sold to Northern General and were of a forward-entrance design not used in London but intended for wider provincial sales which never materialised. Many of those non-Routemaster buses used widely across the country were the products of Bristol, Leyland and Daimler types; others were from AEC but were not Routemasters. In Hampshire and Wiltshire Bristol types were most common.

Yesterday was a fine, dry one with a good deal of sun but not a lot of degrees in the Celsius department. This brought out a sizeable contingent of folks wishing to travel on "old" buses. And old buses there were indeed though their numbers were, as is often the way at such events, slightly thinner than planned. Two Bristol FLFs were expected to run and indeed two arrived in Penzance and were paraded before the event began but one then vanished and was replaced by a much more modern 63-reg vehicle. The Bristol LS bus didn't make it but there was an LS coach as a late entry substitute for something else that was poorly. The Bristol LH "grant coach" failed to complete it sfirst booked trip and limped home hors de combat to be replaced by hasty rearrangement of other duties. So my planned ride into town from home on the Lodekka didn't happen. I was aware of the change just in time to leave earlier and hop aboard a Series 3 VRT of the kind that I spent years driving and therefore do not think of as a "heritage" bus at all. For reasons not explained it was also operating its scheduled circular route in reverse meaning this was an all main-road trip. I squeezed aboard the diminutive Bristol SUS which is one of two survivors from a small fleet and one which I used to ride to and from school no less than 60 years ago. It didn't look that old and it was well kept and presented. The Mousehole run was what it was bought for and took me on that nostalgic trip past school, harbour and the end of the street I grew up on. Then into and out of that village where two 90-degree turns are required on opposing locks to get in and out and with about an inch clear either side of the stone cottages! I had driven hundreds of trips down there and never ever touched the wall but I did note there was paint on it from something - maybe a van - that has misjudged the turn quite recently. Our driver took the turns carefully and to the applause of most aboard as the walls came ever-closer to the windows before we cleared the corners. I did get home on a Lodekka; the other one ran its booked duties and we ground up the long hill through Madron and out onto the moors in second gear making a good deal of noise in the process. Along the single-track coast road we just managed to avoid a lengthy reverse-move having spotted another bus approaching just in time to wait at a wider spot. And we ground up Nancherrow Hill into St. Just in second dropping perfectly into first part-way up with neither grating nor hesitation. Most of those out for the day were not what I would call bus enthusiasts. Many were young families. Every trip I rode on was full and with babies crying, children squealing and singing (thankfully not "Wheels on the Bus") the experience was akin to an hour in a chicken-house. But over all it was a well-organised and well-supported day even if many of the vehicles were "just ordinary buses" in the eyes and words of many waiting for something visibly older than a Bristol VRT or a Leyland National. Passing Newlyn Harbour aboard Bristol SUS 600 (672 COD) at the point I used to alight from this very bus coming home from school 60 years earlier 600 in Mousehole - the biggest buses of their time which would fit and at that time offering a 10-minute headway; it's now 20 minutes. Royal Blue style Oldest on parade was this beauty new to Wilts & Dorset Buses as I remember them; Bristol FLF and Bristol SUS at the setting-down stand in Penzance Bristol LS coach substituting for a poorly but newer type. The Mercedes minibus behind is the current Mousehole bus. "Changing the board" in St. Just bus station. Legally always the conductor's responsibility You wait all day and then three come together! St. Just bus station with the late-running 15.35 (FLF), punctual 15.50 (Series 2 VRT) and the arrival for the 16.00 (Series 3 VRT) departures all going back to Penzance by different routes.

Evening all. A busy one today. Dr SWMBO is not normally involved with ecclesiastical inflorescence but chose to make a display of “Antipodean” flowers together with miniature New Zealand and Australian flags to go on the church’s war memorial to mark ANZAC Day. Dear to her, as it is to most Aussies, not least because her father saw service with the Royal Australian Navy in the Vietnam War. I was required to drive her the very short distance to church to avoid the need to walk clutching a sizeable vase of flowers. The eucalypt leaves were the only truly Antipodean representatives; the rest were local species including bluebells from our own garden. She then pottered off for tea and cake with a church friend while I pottered off to enjoy some big green toys. I was reunited with the very bus I used to ride to and from school. I always thought it somehow appropriate that the route which passed Newlyn harbour and fish market should have buses registered with the letters COD. Two of the six survive; one was in use today providing me with a very nostalgic trip out to Mousehole and back. The lack of power steering didn’t affect the ability to turn the extremely tight corners into and out of the village. With - as has always been the case - about an inch spare either side before meeting stone walled cottages. Lots more action in town attracted very good crowds but my remaining interest was another reunion. Catching a half-cab “Lodekka” out over the moors the long way round via Lanyon Quoit I was planning to get back home just ahead of another bus making a more direct trip on a later departure. We ground up the long hill to Madron in second gear. We ground up the long hill above Madron onto the moors mostly in second but with a faultless change down to first. And we ran happily along the single track road to Morvah. Another faultless change-down had had storming Nancherrow Hill (1:7) whilst leaving no-one in doubt as to our approach to St Just. And as we pulled in there was Dr SWMBO waiting. And there, right behind, was the other bus. The very one we had been gifted the use of for our wedding 28 ½ years ago. The three of us were briefly reunited before the timetable required the buses to depart and the moment had gone. 1995 2024 And a few of the other players from today starting with 672 COD - my old school bus from 1967 passing Newlyn Harbour and the bottom of my old street, then resting in Mousehole Some properly stylish travel from Royal Blue Oldest-on-parade was down from Wiltshire Buses as I knew them boy and man. Though there was never a bus station at Penzance back in the day Changing destination - always the conductor’s job And you wait all day then three come together! Late-running 15.35, followed by 15.50 and 16.00, trips from St Just back to Penzance. Each will take a different route.

And they are all dying around Cornwall thanks to some sort of disease.

Indeed. I recently purchased a pair from that entirely not-Australian chain M&S whose clothes have always reliably fitted me. Waist and leg-length were my normal sizes. They were described as "Regular fit". Knowing M&S has a sensible exchange policy I didn't bother fitting them first but took them home. Whereupon I tried to get them over my legs and up to my waist but failed by some margin. I checked the label - yes they were 38" waist / 31" leg. Allegedly. Out came the tape measure. The waistband measured just 32" fully 6" smaller than it should have been though the leg length was correct. The cut would have done justice to a stick-insect and was not to my mind "regular" even allowing for the currently-popular straight-cut styles. They went back. Most definitely not "shrinkflation" but shrinkage of some sort. Probably a mis-labelled batch, they said, as they issued my store credit voucher. I could have had a card refund but as I was still in need of a pair of strides which fitted me I took the voucher and was, within a few minutes, happily homeward-bound with a perfectly-fitting pair of black trousers in a style closer to jeans than chinos, somewhat more expensive, but perfectly acceptable nonetheless. And I wasn't charged the £20 difference in price either.

I’ll leave it to the skilled and informed judgement of ERs which of the above is the most potentially-dangerous.

Closed Wednesdays

I agree. A good 'un. I have long been a fan of, and friends with, Curry Corner atop Chapel Street in Penzance. One of the very few places in the UK where you will find a female owner / chef / cook operating an Indian take-away food business. Everything is cooked in front of you and in the shop window so you can see there is nothing to hide. I do, being brutally honest, feel her cooking has become less consistently good over the years but it's still worth a visit. New-ish on the scene is Red Chilli which is also becoming respected locally. Perhaps slightly cheaper than Taj Mahal and arguably slightly better but that could depend upon your individual taste and how things are on the day. All are within 15 - 20 minutes drive of the Distant (Signal) West meaning there is a choice of both eat-in and drive-away Indian meals close enough to hand.

And there was me thinking that was some sort of pizza delivery system covered but awaiting orders.

A little more detail recently added includes a Plastruct girder between storage and loading conveyor. This is painted black and rust with green weathering powder flicked onto the wet paint Porthgarrow has been on show today to invited members of other clubs. Along with the other layouts housed at Hayle MRC’s clubroom. That’s the second of three events this year; the third is at Carn Brea in the autumn.

Good Morning all. Welcome to the weekend. The sun is shining cheerfully but hasn’t yet switched the heater on. Last night we bade farewell to that same sun from the clifftops.

It is. And in some states it remains a capital offence. Same as barracking for supporting Collingwood 😉🤣

The ultimate taste test ( a kind of taste test Ashes) would be to compare this with the Marmite Penguin. Tim Tams and Penguins are similar in the same way that Marmite and Vegemite are similar. Only more so. They are closely similar where the two brown spreadable substances are not. Aussies will of course argue that Time Tams are better; the Brits will argue for Penguins. The formulation of the chocolate is different because for Tim Tams it has to sit on shop shelves in somewhat higher ambient temperatures than would normally be expected in British shops. Far from all are air-conditioned supermarkets; a good many local shops have a ceiling fan at best but might reach the high 40s Celsius inside. British-formulation chocolate melts in such temperatures; Tim Tams don't. Not until you hold them in a sweaty hand for some time by which time they should have been enjoyed anyway and not left warming up in your grubby mitt! I'm a Penguin person. And Marmite. You can take the boy out of Marmitia but you can't take Marmitia out of the boy.

I have now received the program and can report that far from what has been said locally and what is suggested on the CBPG and PVBRD social media / web pages there does seem to be a good selection of vehicles and a comprehensive timetable. Colin Billington is a name I know as we have crossed paths before. I also know Mel(vyl) Williams who is the main mover at the Penzance end of things having been WN's number one man on the ground there for many years. I would say there is need to improve on the advance publicity whilst acknowledging that this is an entirely volunteer-run event. One can only expect so much from folk in their spare time. By way of illustration the CBPG lists their vehicles but does not refer to any others; many of their own are VoR with only a small number on the road. This has led to local expectations of the event being very small and only a few public trips running. The local media has stated, for example that "two trips will run to St. Just". In fact the timetable shows a bus every 20 minutes all day out to St. Just covering all three of the route variants WN operated over the years and with a good variety of vehicles. "tvagot" is not a search term I would have come up with in a million years. I only found the link by accident whilst trawling through the depths and links on other sites. The event is well-known locally but I know of no-one else who bought the program and has timetables / vehicle duties in advance.

The UK is notorious for being a low wage/salary*, high tax environment, Even in my humble profession this has been true. One of the reasons we could not attract staff at Clapham was the rate of pay offered. Never mind the conditions which of necessity required us to work outdoors in a customer-facing and often quite hostile environment at any hour of any day. There was a pay freeze imposed by the Government post-Covid but ironically the same Government mandated minimum wage levels which enforced pay rises! We were below the "London Living Wage" and pennies above the statutory minimum hourly rate. For a safety-critical job which demanded all sorts of skills and knowledge, impinged on our private lives because of the shifts and zero-alcohol / illicit drugs requirements and we no longer had the one-time UK-wide free travel entitlement. Though we did retain the right to privilege fares an all but the "Open Access" operators meaning the most we would pay was a quarter of the Anytime (walk-up) fare and usually a quarter of the Off-Peak fares. Quite frankly the only staff we could usually recruit were those even the supermarkets had rejected. Because you could get at least £1 / hour more for filling shelves and you worked indoors. OK you didn't get privilege travel but not everyone uses that anyway. And so the railways have become the bucket employer; the carp which falls to the bottom and takes the job not because it's what they want but because it is the only job they can get. That might be worth remembering the next time you encounter surly staff who hide when things go wrong and seem to know nothing and care even less. That does not excuse poor performance but it does help to explain it. Honestly how many folk in the job market today would do that sort of work - and be asked to manage any and every situation including the traumatic ones - for just a few pence above the National Minimum Wage? There used to be pride in working for the railways and it was a career sought by many but to which only the lucky few were recruited. You can always tell a career "Railwayman" from the pack, and there are still some around, by their attitude, approach and often their appearance. No mobiles in hand, half-mast ties and trainers. Always well-dressed and eyes-on-the-job. The railway has never been a well-paid career (driving grades excepted) but it was better-paid in Australia than it is in the UK. Put bluntly I was expected to work half as hard for twice the money out there. Had life not brought me back to home shores I would happily have continued there until retirement.

Rumour has it that certain models can be (a) very expensive, (b) temperamental, (c) liable to play up at a moment's notice - or indeed any combination of the above Confused of Clapham here. Well not Clapham any more but hey. Models that are very expensive, play up and are temperamental can be of more than one species. I jettisoned the good-looking one with curves, moods and an on-off love affair with anyone who might pay her some attention. I retained the one which says "Lima" stamped on its bottom, looks good but has always been temperamental and liable to play up. Just to avoid confusion the one with curves etc. did not have "Lima" stamped on her bottom although she did have a pretty picture stamped beneath the wrappers on the front and it wasn't tampo-printed!

Absolutely. Dr. SWMBO had been in an AI workshop yesterday and demonstrated some of the capabilities to me last night. She could not get the Pi app to recognise her voice nor to speak to her but it did respond to text and produced some credible output in response to her input. Then there was another which "writes" music; she asked it for a "1980s power ballad theme song" including several key words. Almost instantly out came something which sounded a lot like a Starship track and included not only the key words she asked for but key phrases she uses at work that were not included in the request. OK - there's some very clever programming behind all of this. But ultimately it still takes a human or several to write all of that and to get these systems up and running. Which, to my mind, means that those who are at the back-end sit in positions of potentially abusable power and can exert control over the rest of us passively or openly. The specific phrases in the song generated would have been those somehow profiled from Dr. SWMBO's professional work; on the balance of probability they were not randomly generated and coincidental. So who is spying on whom and why? "They" already know a great deal about us but that does not mean they have our consent to hold nor to use that information. In the UK GDPR provisions apply. You can bet these apps are not UK-based though they can in some circumstances be governed by UK law. Dr. SWMBO was fretting that she and her team have effectively been made redundant. My response was that they are far from redundant because they still have to use the app and input their requests. The machine cannot think for itself and say "Ah yes - I'll come up with a 1980s power ballad using text I know XXXX XXXX uses in her professional life and randomly spit it out to her". It has to be asked first. And it can only react, no pro-act. It can churn out any amount of data and material randomly but it still requires a human to ask it first for the train timetable to Little Nuttingford or a novel featuring naked whales and a teaspoon. Humans are not being made redundant by AI. I am very wary of it. I haven't knowingly given any information away specifically to any AI platform. I feel AI sits firmly in the camp of "Just because we can doesn't always make it right". Happy Friday. The weekend is upon us. And it's POETS Day too.

In honour of the day being a good ‘un. Those of a nervous musical disposition may wish to avert their ears