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OO gauge GWR Mogul and Prairie


Paul.Uni
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We watched an early post-war British movie tonight about two Welsh coal miners going to London to see a rugby international at Twickenham, but things went awry.  Plenty of GWR things and a freshly painted suburban set in Hawksworth double waist livery probably put on for the film.

Edited by coachmann
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My mother and her parents used to pick whinberries "up the line", i.e. alongside the old abandoned Aberdare to Cwmaman railway line. They made the most delicious pie, the like of which I haven't tasted since the 1960s.

"The Line". I lived just off it until at 18 like many in that community,I left for pastures "up England way" .I walked many a mile up and down it..From its lofty position I could see and hear trains on the Vale Of Neath line far across the other side of the valley and occasionally used it as a footpath from school in the Gadlys.It continued beyond Aberdare and I think originally connected until the 1920's with the Cwmdare colliery branch.My mother also baked whinberry pies...or tarts as we called them then.She was district nurse in Aberaman and Godreaman from 1948 until retirement in 1970 ...when she and my father also left ......to spend their days in Somerset.

Edited by Ian Hargrave
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 Well.... Easy really. It's easier for those 'linguistically challenged' to say Caroline Street, than it is to properly pronounce Ynysybwl. Penrhriwceiber is close to Ynysyboeth, but you'd be damned clever to tell them apart. Then, over the tump, there's Llanwonno. Further west you go, you go past Ystradgynlais. There's proper twang down there, there is!

 

Dai the Shunt.

 

Strange coincidence but when I first moved to South Wales I lodged in Ynysybwl so I had no choice but to pronounce it correctly in order to buy a ticket on the 'bus (although I actually travelled to the second stop in Robert Street so usually said that).  And even more oddly on the occasion of a Signal sighting Meeting at Stormstown we actually adjourned to sup ale in the pub at Llanwonno (back in the days when the supping of ale was not considered a capital offence in the railway industry) and we had a typical Welsh pub amusement as the conversation in the bar changed to Welsh as we entered, but oddly it changed back to English when a member of our party ordered our drinks in Welsh. 

 

Our Dai in the office at Radyr ran the chippy in Merthyr Vale in his off duty time.

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Having lived in North Wales most of my life, I cultured an accent that is hard for aficionados to pin down, as it is neither Lancashire, Yorkshire nor Cheshire  Yet the local Welsh recognize a twang which helps me be accepted. When my brother-in-law moved here for a short time from Lancs, he complained the language changed to Welsh when he and his wife walked into a pub. I asked him how he knew.......   :smoke:

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Yes, Mike, it's funny how, despite not being part of Wales' 'Gaeltacht' and considered largely monoglot English speaking in those areas that are, Glamorgan is still very Welsh once you scratch the surface, and even more so on the uplands and in the farming communities.  Consequently much local Welsh is farming patois (auto correct wanted farming patios, but that does not quite convey what I want), and would horrify Cwmdaithas Yr Iaith (not that that would be a sin in my book).  Even Cardiff was predominantly Welsh speaking in the 17th century, and now contains as many Welsh speakers as the rest of Wales put together, though many of these are migrants from Welsh speaking places.

 

Wenglish, that excellent tongue which you were familiar with at Radyr, is pretty much English, but spoken strictly and correctly according to Welsh rules of grammar and sentence construction; 'come from over by there to over by 'ere now just, look you', with Welsh intrusions such as 'stim ots (no problem) or chwarae teg nawr , inni (fair play, now, isn't it). My mother, from Wattstown, was a native and fluent Wenglish speaker and claimed to know no Welsh at all, something she could not validate if she lost her temper and let rip at my poor English dad, or poor me.

Edited by The Johnster
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Yes, Mike, it's funny how, despite not being part of Wales' 'Gaeltacht' and considered largely monoglot English speaking in those areas that are, Glamorgan is still very Welsh once you scratch the surface, and even more so on the uplands and in the farming communities.  Consequently much local Welsh is farming patois (auto correct wanted farming patios, but that does not quite convey what I want), and would horrify Cwmdaithas Yr Iaith (not that that would be a sin in my book).  Even Cardiff was predominantly Welsh speaking in the 17th century, and now contains as many Welsh speakers as the rest of Wales put together, though many of these are migrants from Welsh speaking places.

 

Wenglish, that excellent tongue which you were familiar with at Radyr, is pretty much English, but spoken strictly and correctly according to Welsh rules of grammar and sentence construction; 'come from over by there to over by 'ere now just, look you', with Welsh intrusions such as 'stim ots (no problem) or chwarae teg nawr , inni (fair play, now, isn't it). My mother, from Wattstown, was a native and fluent Wenglish speaker and claimed to know no Welsh at all, something she could not validate if she lost her temper and let rip at my poor English dad, or poor me.

 

We had several native Welsh speakers at Radyr including one whose second language was English (and his third language was rostering but that's another story, let's just say he could at times be expensive when it came to claims).   Plenty of Wenglish and I doubt if many who spoke like that knew any proper Welsh at all, and of course Caerdydd Wenglish was very different from Abertawe Wenglish and both were different from Port Talbot/Margam Wenglish.  But that's another story of course.

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We had several native Welsh speakers at Radyr including one whose second language was English (and his third language was rostering but that's another story, let's just say he could at times be expensive when it came to claims).   Plenty of Wenglish and I doubt if many who spoke like that knew any proper Welsh at all, and of course Caerdydd Wenglish was very different from Abertawe Wenglish and both were different from Port Talbot/Margam Wenglish.  But that's another story of course.

 

At the risk of incurring Andy Y's wrath for continuing OT, we had a few native Cwmry at Canton as well, again mostly immigrants form Darkest Dyfed.  One driver was a particularly interesting character; he has appeared on this thread before as the hero of the story of a young and foolish Johnster attempting to keep up with him in the pub, which resulted in my being sent home incapable in a taxi. Evan Jones was a farm boy, originally from the hinterland of Lampeter.  The illegitimate child of the farmer and a milkmaid who died shortly afterwards, his birth was not registered and he was kept on the farm and not sent to school for the purpose, basically, of being used as slave child labour.  Sleeping in barns, ill treated, and always hungry, his only friend was a lad in a similar position on a neighbouring farm; when this boy died of consumption, Evan was 12 and realised that his fate would be similar if he stayed put, so, with the aid of the guy who drove the milk lorry who felt sorry for him, went on the road.  He first heard English spoken that evening in Carmarthen.  One wonders how often this sort of thing went on in those days; probably more than one would like to think!

 

He made his way to Swansea and signed on a tramp steamer which did not come back for 4 years; the harsh conditions were easy enough for him, and he thrived, arriving back in Swansea at the age of 16, a tough young man who could hold his own in a Valparaiso bar knife fight and could speak several languages in a sort of seaman's patois.  Warned that a war was in the offing and advised by men who had experienced the previous one not to spend it at sea, he decided that he hadn't survived his childhood and 2 roundings of Cape Horn to be sunk by the Germans, and walked into Danygraig shed and asked to be taken on.  Danygraig sent him to Court Sart who were short of engine cleaners; the GWR gave him his first official identity and existence.

 

By the 1970s, as a driver at Canton, he was still not entirely comfortable in English and would occasionally surprise me with 'what is the meaning for this word?' or 'what is called this thing?'; I was always happy to oblige!  He was a lovely man, a great companion on a night duty with a huge fund of interesting stories, and a fierce drinker.  His lubugrious expression and dry humour were sharply honed, and I enjoyed working with him immensely!

 

O bydded hir hen iaith barhau, even if all I can speak of it is tipyn bach o linguaphone!

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I notice that Dapol have not announced this version of the Large Prarie in the 7 variants of the initial release.

 

attachicon.gifP1080969.JPG

 

Taken at Didcot this afternoon.

 

Good job they haven't - forgetting the face the livery is inaccurate in that the engine shown carrying it at Didcot never carried it in real life.

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4144 was one of the post war batch, built I believe in 1946 when it would have left Swindon in unlined green 'G W R' initials livery. I am unable to say if this was ever replaced in early BR days by the livery shown, which was applied to some locos in the 4160s series in 1948, replaced by sans serif 'BRITISH RAILWAYS' later that year and by plain black and the unicycling lion from 1949; I would think that 4144 probably 'missed out' these liveries and went straight into unlined black/unicycling lion with a smokebox number plate.

 

All 5101 or 61xx large prairies released to traffic from Swindon paintshop prior to the introduction of the roundel would originally have carried the egyptian serif 'GREAT WESTERN' on unlined green.  The GWS are correct in showing a 5101 carrying egyptian serif 'BRITISH RAILWAYS' livery, but it is not correct on that particular loco, which I remember at Severn Tunnel in the 60s in BR fully lined green beneath the muck.

Edited by The Johnster
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Large prairies known to have received BRITISH RAILWAYS in GWR Egyptian font are listed here.

 

Thanks - this page also explains the white "W" underneath the cab side number plate as in the image of 4144.

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4144 was one of the post war batch, built I believe in 1946 when it would have left Swindon in unlined green 'G W R' initials livery. I am unable to say if this was ever replaced in early BR days by the livery shown, which was applied to some locos in the 4160s series in 1948, replaced by sans serif 'BRITISH RAILWAYS' later that year and by plain black and the unicycling lion from 1949; I would think that 4144 probably 'missed out' these liveries and went straight into unlined black/unicycling lion with a smokebox number plate.

 

All 5101 or 61xx large prairies released to traffic from Swindon paintshop prior to the introduction of the roundel would originally have carried the egyptian serif 'GREAT WESTERN' on unlined green.  The GWS are correct in showing a 5101 carrying egyptian serif 'BRITISH RAILWAYS' livery, but it is not correct on that particular loco, which I remember at Severn Tunnel in the 60s in BR fully lined green beneath the muck.

 

The GWS have been perfectly honest about the livery on 4144 and will, if you ask those 'in the know', freely state that the engine never carried that livery while in traffic.

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Well, sospan fach, I developed the habit of replying in French, Russian or anything else which came to mind if addressed in Welsh, and continuing until a measure of common courtesy prevailed. I speak several languages, it just happens that Welsh isn’t one of them.

 

Is Caroline Street the street near the Millenium Stadium, referred to by my sons as “the street of chip shops”?

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One the dirty bookshops doubled as a place you could buy a quality set of darts, if you were that way inclined.  There was also once a pretty good army surplus type shop, but it remains predominantly fast food outlets and the chippies are legendary.  Not particularly good, but still legendary.

 

Back in the day, it would have been possible to observe moguls or large prairies crossing Canal Wharf or Bute Road bridges from the ends of Caroline Street, so none of this is really off topic, is it?

Edited by The Johnster
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One the dirty bookshops doubled as a place you could buy a quality set of darts, if you were that way inclined.  There was also once a pretty good army surplus type shop, but it remains predominantly fast food outlets and the chippies are legendary.  Not particularly good, but still legendary.

 

Back in the day, it would have been possible to observe moguls or large prairies crossing Canal Wharf or Bute Road bridges from the ends of Caroline Street, so none of this is really off topic, is it?

 There used to be a pub down there. Golden Cross? Top of Bute Street? Just down the road was an army surplus store down there, where I first bought my first pair of parade boots. Many years later, I was in charge of craning out the pannier 9629, at Holiday Inn.

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Yes,

 

A few years ago also a couple of dirty adult book shops and Brains Brewery!

 

Dave

Brains Bitter...once the but of my father's sardonic wit...."If you had any,you wouldn't drink it.....".I think the perceived wisdom then was that Cardiff brew could travel no further north than Taffs Well..Well most Welsh beer in the mid 50's was either watery or sour anyway.

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There is a brewery in the Manchester area and many of its lorries haul trailers for carrying the beer all over the country. That is because no ###### will drink it where it is brewed!

 

Incidentally, I am looking forward to the GWR 2-6-0 and a GWR Large Prairie... :biggrin_mini2:

Edited by coachmann
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Brains Bitter...once the but of my father's sardonic wit...."If you had any,you wouldn't drink it.....".I think the perceived wisdom then was that Cardiff brew could travel no further north than Taffs Well..Well most Welsh beer in the mid 50's was either watery or sour anyway.

 

Brains didn't need to travel that far.

 

By Walnut Tree, the barrel started to run dry. You'd have to go back and get another one!

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Brains Bitter...once the but of my father's sardonic wit...."If you had any,you wouldn't drink it.....".I think the perceived wisdom then was that Cardiff brew could travel no further north than Taffs Well..Well most Welsh beer in the mid 50's was either watery or sour anyway.

 

We used to refer to Brains SA as 'Skull Attack'; it always gave you a hangover.

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 There used to be a pub down there. Golden Cross? Top of Bute Street? Just down the road was an army surplus store down there, where I first bought my first pair of parade boots. Many years later, I was in charge of craning out the pannier 9629, at Holiday Inn.

 

The Golden Cross, which has become a gay pub probably by virtue of having the word 'cross' in it's name, is still in business and has a preservation order for the ceramic wall facings and internal murals, including a big one of Cardiff Castle.  This is not in Caroline Street though, and you may be confusing it with the King's Cross, which was on the corner of Caroline Street and Mill Lane and also became a gay pub for much the same reason AFAIK, this is now no longer a pub and has been converted into a posh restaurant.

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