jonny777

Edited, because I might be in danger of going over the top with my lack of Christmas good will.

Remember that I am the cynic. It is interesting how many people might be saving these photos to use for their own purposes with no copyright. I believe it is inversely connected to the number of views.

Thanks for all the LT&S photos, David. I am glad that someone has lots of photos of the 302s, because for me they were one of the least observed classes; and even less photographed. I never really made it to Essex, and even Fenchurch Street was a rare destination. I'm sure that everyone has an area of the country they wish they had paid more attention to while the Modernisation Plan vehicles were plying their trade, and the LT&S is one of mine.

Another Anglian liveried loco. 86221 is at the rear of a Norwich bound service at Ipswich in 2004.

On 23rd May 2002, 37710 tows two class 86s in Anglia livery north through Stafford. The electric locos are 86234 and 86227.

Thanks. Those photos answer my cynical question definitively enough.

I have great difficulty with this photo:- https://www.flickr.com/photos/rgadsdon/3507496646/in/faves-23256063@N02/ Not just because of the condition this loco has been allowed to run in, but because it is standing underneath the girder bridge at Paddington and yet seems to be in very good light. Could it be a very clever photoshop job with a Western from the Swindon scrap line being added to a poorly exposed photo of one at Paddington? Or am I just too cynical and un-trusting?

More rummaging through Flickr found yet another angle towards the loco yard. http://tinyurl.com/gnztxc5

I'm not sure how useful his photo is, but I have been browsing through Flickr and found it. It certainly shows the loco yard from the opposite angle to the normal views. http://tinyurl.com/zfwdwur

C5468, are those 20s still in green livery - or is it my eyesight?

I can't wait for you to commence this project, Paul. Kings Cross loco was one of my favourite places to watch from the platform end 40-45 years ago.

I try not to post photos from this film, as I was having problems with light getting into the back of my camera. However, these may be of some use to you - so here they are.

I'm not so sure Micky's posts would have been that useful to your project because from memory his deleted comments were mostly concerned with staff matters.

Well, maybe if the railways stopped being a giant trainset for those "in the know" and giant gravy train for those who own the franchises; they might begin to understand that a service to customers means giving the customer what the customer wants (however illogical that may seem) rather than what the staff or management want the customer to have.

Although that option is far more preferable to "your dog is in the dinner".

I don't agree with this, however experienced and efficient the reasoning may be. When I travel by train I want the driver to be responsible for driving - period. I do not want him to be responsible for opening and closing doors, checking tickets, comforting elderly or disabled passengers, making the tea; or whatever secondary jobs they can load on the driver in the name of "modern 21st century efficiency". Yes, the trains may be able to drive themselves, and park themselves in sidings at the end of the day without any human intervention. However, I am a fare paying passenger and one of the millions who pay the wages of the staff, and therefore I believe that I have a right to demand certain reassuring aspects for my journey. The first one being that there is a driver in the cab whose *sole* responsibility it is for the driving of the train. If (heaven forbid) that the driver is rendered unconscious for whatever reason (some scrote lobbing a brick from an overbridge for instance) I do not want to be stuck on a train full of passenger close to hysteria with no member of staff and no way of knowing what has happened until some emergency procedure wheezes into action from about 50 miles away. I would also like to see a guard on every train, whose responsibilities include the safety of passengers; whether on the train, on the platform, or venturing between the two. In a perfect world I would also wish to see a ticket inspector with statutory powers of arrest (or at least detainment) for anyone without a ticket or otherwise travelling illegally. I believe that my views are not confined to myself, but are being drowned out by a wholly political battle between a "crush the unions" right wing government, and a "crush the government" left wing union. Sorry, I'm ranting again - this seems to be an increasing feature of my ageing process.

Hello from a bright and breezy Somerset. The rain seems to have stopped, but I gather this situation is only temporary. Parcels galore due to be delivered over the next 48 hours, so I am confined to barracks. However, I have sampled my Christmas Ale bottled in October, and it tastes lovely - plus has an almost Guinness-like head so I am really not complaining about my confinement as yet. Was sad to read of the death of Ian McCaskill, ex weatherman. His TV presentations were much more watchable than some of the other folk (no names) that have droned through the forecasts, or tried to patronise the viewers. Although, he was probably best known for the Spitting Image mimickry. He will be sadly missed.

According to ASLEF, it is because on the Brighton line they are regularly 12 coaches long, and not the 4-8 which are the norm for most current DOO trains. I wonder how many people who fly would be happy to get on an aircraft and have no cabin crew, just a couple of pilots locked away in the cockpit who can only communicate to the passengers by PA? That might be even more worrying if pilots were then wholly responsible for opening and closing the doors.

It was always referred to as the Kit-E-Kat factory by my parents when we passed it on the train in the 1950s. I don't know why, but somehow we were expected to look out of the carriage window to see it on every journey we made.

And yet my first home after marriage was no more than 10 yards from the Marylebone line near High Wycombe. The suburban service was not that intense, but there were still a fair number of freights and occasional fast trains to Birmingham. I soon got used to the noise, and had no trouble sleeping during the day - when on nights. In fact, so much did I get used to the trains that one day I was taping a mates LP (naughty!) and was hoping not to have a train ruin the recording; so after completing the taping I played it back just to check, only to find that right in the middle of a quiet part of one track an 8-car dmu had rasped past and I had not noticed it at all while listening to the original.

Hello from a dull, wet and depressing Somerset. I thought matters regarding brother-in-law could not get any worse, with motor neurone disease diagnosed earlier in the week, but yesterday he had a phone call to inform him that his mother had died. There is not much family Christmas spirit round these parts.

If the driver was counting the houses on our side, and believed they were 'even' (in error); he still would have got it wrong as we are 5, and the other two are 1 and 3 as you would expect. Therefore if he thought we were the 'even' side of the road, he had still come to number 6 instead of 4.

I am sure there are a few Ebay sellers who would find the descriptions necessary in order to put that up for sale at £49.99

I wonder if it anything to do with racing around the deliveries as quickly as possible and therefore getting more done per day, and earning slightly more of a pittance than normal? Or maybe they are being pressurised by the companies?

Hello from a bright and breezy Somerset. Despite the best efforts of the white van man yesterday, I managed not to take delivery of a giant box containing a 'dog cage'. He looked at me and said "Heather Watson?" and I thought - not unless I have had a very serious overnight operation. I said "I don't have a dog", and I have not ordered a giant cage. But he seemed very keen to get me to sign for it and shoved a hand-held machine into my hands. He looked at the house number 5 on my front door and said "number 4?". No. I gave him the signing machine back. So, he had to man-handle the giant box back down the drive across the road and down the street, and I was left none the wiser really.