Pixie

Thanks, that's very flattering! I don't really think there would be demand for any form of publication, perhaps a blog or something would be a slightly better home. To be honest, I really wrote the Cavalier Chronicles for myself as a record of the adventure although I'm very pleased they are of interest to others. I've also written similar records of trips to Japan and other places which I'll put on here in due course. I think it's a spit for Sam Eagle from the Muppets. They're ace on the inside; a cross between an airship and a submarine. Well, Electrostars have a certain charisma. If you want truly adventurous, have a look at the new Twilight Express Mizukaze stock - http://trafficnews.jp/post/56106/160816_mizukaze_01/. Not only a hotel-on-rails, the master suite is at the front of the train has its own balcony underneath the drivers cab. That's my honeymoon sorted. Right then, back in Blighty and the two 12 hour flights gave me an opportunity to polish up the next two instalments of Cavalier Chronicles. I've not forgotten the Dapol Remotoring, I'll try to get this done in the next few weeks. In the meantime.... Cavalier Chronicles - Part 3 - The Hunt With a refreshed outlook and change of tact, the hunt resumed. This time the parameters had relaxed - I was looking for a Cavalier that was DVLA registered and with at least 6 months MOT. Everything else was downgraded from necessity to nicety. A saloon was preferable, but I wouldn't instantly rule out a tidy Sportshatch or a Coupe if one came up. Perhaps I could even go all European with an Opel badged Manta B? I wanted something that was solid, maybe with a light bit of tidying here and there - a basket case wasn't a practical option to take on with the resources available to me. Any colour would do both inside and out, although I'd prefer a neutral colour interior. And as trim is notoriously difficult to find, it needed to be in good condition too. I had a budget to work with, but I could stretch if something unmissable came up. Nowhere in the UK was out of the question, if one came up in Wick or Penzance then we'll be in the first sleeper out of London with several kilograms of travel sweets for the drive back. The engine really needed to be either a 1600 or 2000 - the 1300 would be a little pedestrian after four decades of abuse. A base model L or GL would be nice, the top level GLS was a bit excessive for my tastes. Oh, and a manual. I'd never driven an automatic and didn't trust them. Whilst the mentality was vastly more open minded than before, I wasn't going to jump on the first one that came up that I'd regret moments after driving off the proverbial forecourt. At the same time, I didn't want to wait forever for a car that didn't exist. A thrice daily trawl of saved eBay searches, forum sales listing and online classifieds was established - once on the throne in the morning, one with a coffee at lunch and one last thing at night in bed. If I had a wife, I'm sure the latter would have annoyed her greatly. A cursory glance was given to various magazines in the local magazine library (Er, Tesco) although they offered few leads - the internet revolution seems to have swept the old school inky classifieds aside. I cautiously also made it known to a few people within the Cavalier Club I was on the lookout for an example, although I was keen to not look too needy. Every time a new example appeared, there was a short heartbeat-skipping moment. "Would this be the one?", I'd mutter to myself is a worryingly Mark Corogan-esk voice. Slowly but surely, candidates started to appear. First up was a scruffy 2000GL barn find in maroon. It looked fairly solid but MOT-less and requiring a repainted, it wasn't to be. Next! Then a very neat metallic blue 2000GL Sportshatch appeared. It had certainly looked after and was ready to go with a fresh MOT, but it's not the saloon I dreamt of. The vivid blue interior was also migraine inducing, if beautifully retro. It ticked most of the boxes but at £4000 it was too much for something that wasn't quite what I wanted. Next! This 1600GL saloon appeared one Sunday morning on the Cars and Classics website. It needed some attention to the paint work but at £1000 and with 11-month MOT, there was room in the budget to put it right. I got straight in the phone to the seller and summoned the EBCC (East Bracknell Car Club... well, friends Ryan and Drew to be precise) with a code red text to prepare for a trip to Telford that afternoon. They duly arrived whilst the seller sorted out a few more photos. Was today the day?! No. The JPEGs landed in my inbox - the interior was a wreck. B0llocks. Next! Picture the scene. It's 1979. You're doing well as a middle manager in an engineering firm and you've had the nod from the head honcho that you're in line for a bonus. You've escaped the shop floor, so Jim Callaghan's pay cap has eluded you. Life is good. To celebrate you treat your wife to a newly released Sony Walkman and take the kids out for the equally new Happy Meal from that American burger restaurant they keep talking about. Whilst they tuck in, you study the Vauxhall brochure you picked up earlier that day from the dealership. The latest episode of Dallas is on in the background. As a successful management type, you need a vehicle to represent your status. There's only one choice - a fully spec'ed 2000GLS Cavalier in metallic brown with brown vynide interior and brown vinyl roof. Jump forward to 2016. Whilst being browntastic, it's well out of my budget at £6500. Next! Woah there, an orange one! It was terribly listed on eBay with a patchy description and images from the Stevie Wonder School of Photography. Still, it was worthy of investigation. Dated 70s orange paintwork - check. 1600 lump - check. Base model L - check. MOT'ed - check. Beige interior - check. It was going well. Located in Essex - check. Saloon - check. Manu.. a... l... Ah, automatic. Damn it. Fallen at the final hurdle. Next! How about a beautiful one-owner-from-new Chevette? 13000 miles on the clock with every MOT since new to back it up. The dream package, if you want a Chevette. Which I didn't. Next! Hmmm. Lowered, brush painted and rotten through. One for stripping and banger-ing, sadly. Next! I updated the my amigos one evening of the progress made and the Cavalier's that had been appearing. The attitude was relentlessly militant since the successful arrival of Rafa, a 1985 Mk.3 Escort saved from a dairy farm by Ryan. (Yes, I know. We're grown men; we know we shouldn't name cars. However, he'd become Rafa. For the love of God - 'he'. Listen to me. It's an inanimate object). There was no boundaries or limitations, anything could be rebuilt, moved, restored, repainted or tweaked. Alchemy was child's play and could be done in an Easy-Bake oven. Scaling Everest could be done in plimsolls, fuelled only by a bottle of Vimto and 20 Lucky Strikes. Titanic only required some light tinkering to make it it almost new. Pragmatically, I think they were just bored of me showing Cavaliers for sale and having a reason not to buy them, but the positivity was refreshing none the less. "Why not get the maroon one? It looks solid and will fly through the MOT." "How do you know? It's could be a wreck." "It'll be fine! Buy it!" "No, I want one with an MOT." "Fine, buy the orange Essex one. That's MOT'ed" "No, it's an automatic." "And? Buy the Essex one." "I want one with a manual gearbox" "The one in Ireland was a manual, buy that." "It's a heap. A professional even said so" "Buy both!" "I'm not buying either, I'm especially not buying the Irish one!" "How do you especially not buy something? Fine, Essex one it is. Email him now." "I'll think about it." "That's a no. Get the Essex one, you can change a gearbox in minutes." "What? No, you can't. Ergh, maybe. I'll sleep on it. Pint?" "Yes, it's your round. I'll buy the first one in Essex." We retired for beers at the Bell where the tone of conversation remained the same. Cavalier hunting had been thirsty work and numerous jugs were rapidly consumed. The next morning I took a long, hot shower in an attempt to wash away the hangover and started to contemplate the exchanges of the previous evening. To be honest, my resistance was born out of my own stubbornness. I'm not very good at being told what to do, ask an ex-girlfriend if in any doubt. The Essex Cavalier did look good, and the automatic gearbox was more an unknown than a negative. Besides, it could be changed it if really didn't get on with it or it went bang. I had time to think about it and do some research - today was Thursday 23rd July, the car had been listed the previous day on a 10-day listing so finished on Saturday 1st August. I'm sure the others would relent in the mean time to give me a bit of time to think things through.... Ugh. Wednesday 29th July started as any other work day - the alarm sounded at 6:45, I staggered my way to the bathroom and questioned what I was doing with my life as I stared through the mirror. However, a deviation from the norm occurred whilst rooting through my pants drawer; today required lucky pants. As it happens, today also required a hell of a lot of breathing in whilst taking this photo - the ravages of time, ale and curry have not been kind since I last wore them for my university finals. I hoped in the car and headed in the opposite direction to my usual daily commute towards Chateaux-Ryan. Over breakfast, I briefed my accomplice. Within the next 6 hours we were to find £2000 in used notes, fill out the paperwork for a garage, collect garage keys, arrange some insurance and collect the necessary supplies for a day’s adventuring. At 15:00sharp, we'd rendezvous with Drew and head for Essex, arriving at 17:00. We'd inspect, test drive and assuming all is well, convince the seller to end the auction early and shake hands on a carefully bartered deal. Then it was a simple case of nursing a 40 year old car around the M25 in rush hour traffic towards Bracknell for celebratory tea and meddles. This was to be a momentous day, assuming all went smoothly. We finished our fry-ups and set to work. We did well. By 14:30, I was the proud owner (well, renter) of a garage and had necessary tools packed to barter a deal. Phase 1 was complete. It had been quite a build up to sitting in the back of Drew's BMW and the journey was a welcome bit of calm. Work had been particularly chaotic and I hadn't aided the situation by insisting on a day off; my boss didn't entirely buy the 'I'm off to buy an old car' excuse either. Additionally Bracknell Council, despite their previous promises, weren't able to arrange a garage of any form and wouldn't be able to for the next month at least as the Garage-rental-bod was on holiday. Luckily Windsor Council could offer something and saved the day at the eleventh hour. There had been numerous phone calls to insurance companies, vehicle check services and knowledgable Vauxhall folk to get clued up on inspecting a Cavalier. They'd also given me plenty of tips on how to evaluate an automatic gearbox, or Slushbox, as they referred to it. Like the Irish interlude before, it was exciting to have things moving but I didn't want to get ahead of myself. What if this had the same anticlimactic ending? Doubts started to creep in; what if it was a heap? Or even worse, what if it was borderline? What if the seller didn't want to end the auction early? What if it immediately failed after we'd shaken hands? What if it didn't fit in the garage? I appreciate the latter is verging on the ridiculous but it was a possibility. The build up had been huge and there was the very real possibility it could end in disappointment again. As we peeled M25 at Junction 29, the sunny climbs of Basildon came into view. We were getting close. Precisely one week earlier I’d been adamantly stating I wouldn't be going to Essex and here we were crossing the border. However, the atmosphere was not one of begrudging resentment but adventure. A bit of Boys Own, Famous Five fun. It had been so easy to list reasons not to do it that I'd lost sight of the enjoyment of actually doing it would bring. There's a life lesson in there somewhere. As we turned into seller's street, there was the unmistakable outline of a Cavalier majestically glimmered in the July evening sunshine. Whilst having a cursory look around we were greeted by Dave, the owner. We'd swapped a few texts before to arrange meeting but I wasn't really sure of what to expect, but it certainly wasn't the Elvis-a-like who'd cheerfully greeted us. He showed us around the Cavalier, explaining has was a mechanic and the previous owner was a customer of his who'd fallen on tough times. He took it on with the intention of having it as a weekend car but his health had deteriorated too. I took all of this at face value - I had no proof either way and, to be honest, it was irrelevant. We started to look around the Cavalier with a bit more detail. He described it as original which was a fair assessment - It had some wear here and there but it was solid. These were things I could address fairly easily; a few light dings and minor scratch. Dave kindly jacked it up and all the normal rot-hot-spots were like new. Other elements were reassuring - the dashboard wasn't cracked which was a sign it had spent most of its life in a garage and the wheel arches were still drowned in original factory sealant. This was shaping up nicely, it was a well looked after example. I climbed inside with Dave. The interior was near perfect - not only in first class condition but it was the same base-model beige cloth that DJB 181V had. Instantly the memories of small details came pouring back - the shapes of the window winders, the texture of the rear fag trays and, oddly, the slight musty smell of the dash. We set off for a test drive. To be honest, I didn't pay a huge amount of attention. I knew by this point this was a car worth going for, I just had to work out my tactic. It was listed on eBay with a starting bid of £999, it was probably worth to me about £1800, possibly a little more at a push. I'd precounted various amounts as a visual persuader if there was any negotiation retired. As we pulled back into the seller's road I decided to go for it. "So, Dave. It's nice, needs a bit of tidying up here and there but I'd like to give it a good home. How does £1500 sound?" He paused. Christ, this was tense. It was like asking a girl out. "Hold out your hand son." "Pleasure doing business with you." We shook with a satisfyingly firm grip. Yes! Yeeesss! Yeeeeeeesssssss! We'd done it! We'd only 'kin done it! This was no longer a Cavalier, it was my Cavalier! All of the frustrations, anguish and disappointment of the previous few months instantly lifted. I beamed from ear to ear. After years of talking about it, I had my Cavalier! We got out the car to do the paperwork. I simply looked at my compatriots and grinned in a 'Bought it' fashion. The retorted with the greatest 'We told you so' stare known to man. Money exchanged. Documents in hand. Parting hand shake made. Ryan took shotgun in the Cavalier and we prepared to hit the road. "Right, how the hell do you drive an automatic?" I asked. It was a sincere enquiry, I had no idea. After a quick briefing from my passenger we hit the road... ....before immediately stopping at the end of the drive. I wasn't aware of this, but road tax no longer transfers with the car when you sell it. It stays with the seller. Heading off into the sunset is difficult when you need to pull up and give the government a couple of hundred quid, it spoils the illusion somewhat. iPhone fired up, tax paid, we hit the road... ....Jesus, the fuel tank is nigh on empty. I should have bartered for a tank of petrol. Best fill up for the drive home. Time to hightail it out of Essex, for real this time. For an inaugural drive it was a baptism of fire - straight onto the M25 during the drive-time commute. The Cavalier took a little getting used to, it was far heavier than anything I'd driven before. Manual choke, no power steering and the constant reaching for the non-existent clutch pedal. It was enormous too, like driving a wheeled narrow boat. It felt sure footed though, solid and keen to keep going. At first we kept it as a steady 50-ish; looking at its MOT history is had done less than 200 miles a year for the last few years so I didn't want to cane it. But as the miles were clocked up, confidence grew and opened it up a little more. As we crossed the Dartford bridge, the enormity of the situation sunk in. With the glorious evening sunlight illuminating our surroundings, I was driving along in the car I'd spend the last decade talking about with lifelong friends alongside and behind. It was spectacle - a true moment to savour and a reminder to no just talk about doing thing. It had been a long day though and with blood sugar rapidly fading, we decided to break for a celebratory McDeath. On this day of victories, here I also discovered the existence of McDonald's apple pies. How have I avoided these for 26 years? They're heart-stoppingly delicious. With car and humans suitably refuelled, there was one task left for the day - The Grand Unveiling. I hadn't told Dad exactly what we were up to that day, I'd vaguely mentioned there was a car that we were going to look at but I'd made no references to buying it or it being a Cavalier. He had been avidly interested from the start so I hoped this would a superb surprise. Mum was in on it all and had agreed to get Dad to a pub where we'd pitch up on the pretence of a normal evening beer. When we were close our rendezvous point, I passed my phone to my wingman and asked him to send the message - we were on. Wait, what? 'Love Ryan'? And a winky face?! What’s happening here?! As we turned into the Leathern Bottle, I could see Dad waiting out front. If he hadn't been suspicious before, I'm sure being commanded to stand out the front of a pub sounded alarm bells. "So, what do you think?!". "You ######." Mum and Dad both received the grand tour and we filled them in on our victorious day over a well-deserved beer. As is necessary with such landmark events, we lined up for the seminar photo. In the excitement of the moment, Mum forgot which way round to hold an iPhone. Much better. As the sun dropped below the horizon it was time to put the new arrival to bed. Dad got in and we set off on our inaugural run in the Cavalier. Here we were, some 18 years, 2 months and 28 days since DJB 181V's final drive to be weighed in, sat upfront in an orange Mk.1 Cavalier again. Had we been told at the time of DJB 181V's demise that we'd be here again I don't think either of us would have believed it. On the short drive to the garage, I began to realise that this wasn't my Cavalier. It was our Cavalier. This was the start of something brilliant. Job done - I'm indebted to those made it possible. Thank you. Welcome to the family OOO. You'll fit in well here. To be continued...

Toto, I've got a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore. (Greetings from Japan) Pix

Not a problem; I realised tonight I've got another Dapol NBL that is as new so I'll take some photographs as I go. I'm off to Japan this weekend for a fortnight but I'll post it when I return; I promise it won't take a year for me to get it done! In the mean time, I'd advise getting a set of motors on order as they can take a wee while to turn up. D'oh! Well, I'm more than happy to welcome content involving Felicity Jones or Audrey Tautou, particularly as Amélie. Roath lives on - it's currently crated up in the garage, quietly minding its own business. To be honest it's not seen the light of day since its first outing to the first Stormex show back in 2010. Around that time I graduated, got distracted by this 2mm-lark (it's all Bryn's fault) and decided to build Parkend as it was a little easier to me around in my car. I could also have it set up at home in full; Roath I could on yo ever set up two boards at a time. Much to the disbelief of my friends, I will finish Roath eventually. One day. Cheers, Pix

Cavalier Chronicles - Part 2 - Not Quite Meeting Your Heroes. Allow me to introduce 'That Cavalier'. When said aloud there has to be a heavy, laboured emphasis on 'that' as if you've heard me wobble on about this car periodically for the last few years. It's a Luton-built 1600L Cavalier in Orange Tan with a brown plaid interior. Sound familiar? This car has taunted me for the last 6 years - a one ton steel temptress. It first appeared when I was a scruffy doss student, idly browsing eBay in an attempt to avoid doing any coursework. Located in Kent and listed as a barn-find, in reality it'd been locked away in a garage for the preceding decade or so. It boasted a relatively low mileage and was in seemingly sound condition. Although it was in need of a little love and reconditioning, it would be an ideal basis for a project. I dropped the owner an email who filled in a bit of the background history - his dad was the owner from new, stopped driving due to old age, eventually meeting his maker and now part of his estate his son had to try and move on. The story checked out, and concurred with the DVLA check I did with a rush of blood to the head. I mulled it over but my loving, yet bemused girlfriend who casually pointed out that I was missing a place to put it, a driving licence to drive it with and any money to buy it with. She had a point. Being practical, I made sure I was nowhere near a computer when the auction ended. I hoped it'd gone to a good home, as opposed to being broken for spares. I was thrilled to see It resurface some months later on one of the car forums. It looked ace - it had clearly gone to a good, loving home. The winning bidder had been a chap called Steve, who'd transported her across the border to his home in Bonny Scotland. He'd spent some time getting it back in the road - all new rear wheel arches, new sills, an engine rebuild and decent respray to original colours. This was the dream - an ex-works, immaculate DJB 181V replica. Anytime I needed a nostalgia fix, I dipped into the thread to see what the car was up to. It became a fairly regular attraction at classic car shows around southern Scotland. Whoever it went, or whenever photos would appears, it seemed to attract comments of "I used to have one of those!" or "I've not seen one of these for years!" One morning, I had a quick check in and the author had posted an update... After much thought, this may be up for sale mot'd Jan til 2014 taxed end of October . It's as nice as it is in the pictures looking for £2500ish. ! The dream was for sale - this was my chance. I wasn't sure how practical it would be, but, nonetheless, it was my chance. I informed some friends of this development and asked for their opinions over a few beers. "Do it. Just do it." "But where do I ke..." "You've talked about this for years. Do it." After a prolonged session, it was a done-deal. I would buy the dream car! Next morning, with a mild hang over, I composed myself and then a polite email to express my interest. Within minutes I had a reply, I expected it to congratulate me on my purchase and excellent choice of motor vehicle. "Sorry - gone." Wait, what?! It's gone?! You sold my dream car! And where's the compassion in the email?! I hope he lets his lovers down in a softer fashion. Bah! The Cavalier disappeared into the ether and I shelved my classic car plans. It was true that I'd talked about this a lot, but in the cold light of day, I wasn't sure it was a feasible move. Yes, I had a driving licence by now, but where would I have kept it? What if it needed loads of work doing? Besides, I'd never bought a classic car before, how the hell do you go about this kind of thing? And I should really be focusing on trying to save up for a deposit for a flat. This could be a retirement project perhaps, or maybe if I have a house with a garage someday? I convinced myself that it was an impossibility. Not that it mattered, the dream car had gone. Fast forward to last May. A spontaneous lunchtime trawl of Cars and Classics threw up an advert that immediately caught my attention. It couldn't be? Could it? It was. Several minutes and €5 later I had a car check report from the Irish DVLA. In the intervening years, "that Cavalier" had crossed the Irish Sea and been reregistered with a new set of 'plates. It looked a little odd with its Irish registration, but it was still immaculate. The reasons that I'd rationalised to myself not to buy it were instantly forgotten and plans were rapidly being formed. I forwarded the link to my beer-drinking friends, all I received back was a link to Stena Line's website and the cover of Danny Wallace's 'Yes Man'. I think that said it all. "So, how about it?" I asked Dad that evening over dinner. We had had similar conversations before, but I was usually met with a list of practicalities that needed to be dealt with. This time it was different - it was less focused on the reasons not to, but the means to work around them. Mum seemed enthusiastic too. Somehow, having them on board seemed to validate the idea, even if it was just moral support. I awoke the next morning with mojo raging. During the morning at work I drew up a list of items that needed to be attended to. I had no real idea what was involved in bringing a car back to the UK from Ireland, but I planned to start making phone calls and see where that got me. At the stroke of noon, I claimed my lunch break. The first port of call was the DVLA - A short chat with a cute sounding Welsh girl advised me of the process and popped an Import Pack in the post. The process sounded fairly involved, but made easier as the car had been registered in the UK for 34 years of its life. Next up, the Council's garage division. A cursory look at their website hinted they had spaces in most areas in Bracknell. Having advised her of the situation, the lady advised me I would have to go on a waiting list but it was a formality, availability was good and she'd be able to sort me out in next to no time. Another form was on its way. I kept ploughing through my list of things to clear up. Before I knew it I had quotes for classic insurance, enquiries about getting it inspected, a rough route planned out of how to get there and even an application to the Cavalier and Chevette club was filled out and posted. Things were rapidly moving. That night I called the final person on my list - the seller. I wanted to have a rough plan before speaking to them to try and mask the fact I didn't know what I was doing. The phone rang and a thick Irish accent answered. Dave and I spent about 20 minutes going over some more details of the car. He'd had it for around 18 months, having bought it from a dealer in Northern Ireland, who had bought it 'from a chap in Scotland'. It all tallied, which was reassuring. Dave kindly agreed to email me a few more details and would allow the car to be inspected if I could find a willing third party. I had my plan - have the inspection, confirm it's a gem, travel out there, drive back to its newly rented council garage, do the DVLA paperwork, watch it sail through its MOT and retire for tea and medals in a thatched pub, with a spotless orange Cavalier sat in the car park. Perhaps Akiko, a cute Japanese intern working the bar, and I would instantly fall in love with one another and drive off into the sunset? We'd later marry, get a place in the country and her successful career in marketing with the local brewery would allow me to retire in my late twenties, becoming a man of leisure and greyhound-walking. Having started off is well, the grand plan soon began to fall apart. Three of the four inspection companies I contacted decided the Cavalier was too old and the fourth decided just not to reply. Red tape instantly shot down ideas to heroically drive the car back - as a UK citizen, the only journey I could do in an un-MOTed car would be to a pre-booked appointment and would have to be done within the same day. Even if we got within inches of the Northern Irish border for the stroke of midnight, getting the car on a ferry, back to Bracknell and in a Test Centre by closing time was bordering impossible. Freighting the car back was the obvious answer, but how do you pay for it? If I hand over the cash, I have to trust him to ship it. If he lets it go without payment, he has to trust me to give him the money when it arrives. The Council were being increasingly vague about my garage application - despite allegedly having many available spaces, I couldn't have one. Without a garage I'd have major issues - the Cavalier was not MOTed; without an MOT I can't buy road tax; without road tax can't keep it in a public street, so where the hell do I put it?! This was starting to become a ball ache. Focus shifted solely to finding someone to inspect the Cavalier. After all, if it turned out to be a lemon then everything else is irrelevant. If I could get this one element sorted, then at least the first step, on this ever increasing path, would be done. Surely, it could be done? Nope, seemingly not. After endless phone calls, emails and leads I was left fruitless. With the resources and experience I had at my disposal, it proved not to be. With a heavy heart but an overruling head; I called it a day on trying to bring 'That Cavalier' back to the UK. There were so many pitfalls and unknowns that the dream could very easily turn into a nightmare. This was meant to be a hobby; the last thing I wanted was grief. I let Dave, the seller, down gently. --------- The dust was allowed to settle on the Cavalier idea for some time - the saga of the Irish Example had consumed a huge amount of time, money and energy and the only tangible result was a Haynes Manuel I'd bought on eBay for a few quid. I didn’t even have the promised garage from Council and the silence from the Cavalier Club was deafening. Bah. The idea was filed back away in the ‘One Day’ drawer and I focussed devising an alibi for the office work I’d not done and running up a phone bill which would bankrupt a small country in the preceding weeks. Sometime later I found myself on the Isle of Man and, whilst I’m not a religious man, I was presented with what can only be described as a Divine Experience. Sat in the car park at Ramsay was a Manta B 400 – the cosmopolitan, athletic European version of the Cavalier. This chance sighting was the first Cavalier-shaped car I’d sighted in the wild for almost two decades. It was a sign, a sign from above to get back on the wagon. Mojo was rejuvenated – if only slightly, but enough to restarting the hunt for a new DJB 181V. I didn’t have much time to restart the hunt upon my return from Douglas – work needed someone to go out to Slovenia to look at some empty paint tubes and I was more than happy it oblige, if nothing else it would put off explaining to the IT team why ‘Bracknell Garages for Rent’ and other spurious Google searches were relevant to company business. I quite enjoy my own company – Billy Connolly once stated that being alone was not about the absence of others but the presence of you. For the trip I was staying in a small town called Kranj – about 20 minutes outside of the capital, Ljubljana. Not much happens in Kranj but in a peaceful, mountainous way. Most evenings I grabbed a couple of beers and some food in the warm evening sunlight and just minded my own business. On the final night, in the midst of thinking about everything and nothing simultaneously, my phone buzzed. Inbox: New Mail Subject: vCC SUMMER NEWSLETTER Sender: KEvIN Who on earth was Kevin and what’s his problem with capital Vs? Opening the attachment it all clicked into place – the VCC was the Vauxhall Cavalier Club and Kevin was the chap I’d sent my membership form to. Evidently, I was now a fully fledged member. Scanning through the Newsletter it seems like the usual club fare, one sentence lept off the page however... “Here are the latest survival figures for our models, the rate of attrition of all models is cause for concern...” That’s not very upbeat. “...however, can we look on it as a challenge and not a cause for despair?” Fair point and a good outlook. But what did this translate to in the real world? Exact figures vary, but it’s generally accepted that 334,000 Mk.1 Cavalier were built. Even if - let’s go wild here - 99% were scrapped, that’d leave around 3000 out there. Just how many Mk.1 Cavaliers were left? Turning the page I had my answer. “Mk.1 Cavaliers Currently Registered – 144 examples (Source: DVLA)” Blimey. I wasn’t expecting it to be that few. That’s a 0.043% survival rate, for every 1 that had survived another 2318 had bitten the dust. Applying the same survival rate to every man, woman and child in Britain in the wake of similar devastation would mean that only 275,200 people would live out of the 64 million who currently dwell here. Somewhat poetically, this also happens to be the population of Luton, so at least the survivors may have inkling to start rebuilding Cavaliers. I ordered another beer and chewed this fact over for a while. How many DBJ 181V replicas were among the 144? How many were 1600L Saloons, beige plaid interior, manual fully MOT’ed and in immaculate condition were out there somewhere? Applying some broad statistics – half were probably Sports Hatches or Coupes, so we’re down to 72 candidate cars. There were 3 trim levels so that cuts it back to 24. Oh, and there were 8 different colours offers leaving 3 potential vehicle. Of the 3 remaining vehicles that theoretically fitted the bill, let’s assume one is an automatic, one held together by the paintwork and one is a recent export to Ireland. My chances were not looking good. Time to readjust sights – with a pool of possible cars being so small, limiting yourself to even fewer examples was a bad move. What if a pristine example in Jamaica Yellow with a Black Vynide trim came up, or a tidy 2000GLS Sportshatch in Hazel Brown Metallic came onto the market; would I turn them down in the hope of the Holy Grail appearing? What if one that ticks all the right boxes comes up but was a complete wreck and I end up buying the Cavalier equivalent of Peak 45015, just because it has some elements that would probably need replacing anyway? Head started to overrule heart once again – the goal should be to preserve an Mk.1 Cavalier for being an Mk.1 Cavalier, not because it looks a bit like a long-scrapped brother. Hell, not many others were – it was proving to be the car that everyone had but nobody kept. This was an epiphany. I had a righteous path to follow. I settled my bar tab and headed for bed – tomorrow the hunt restarted. To be continued.

Likewise Alex, it's been far too long. I struggle with kids who were born in the 2000's are now in secondary school. Come to think of it; some will be getting ready for their GCSE! Glad it's of interest! My folks recently moved back to Vauxhall's after a run of Fiats; having picked up an Agila a while back. I didn't hold much hope for the Hungarian engineering but it's great. If my ageing Punto, with its Inbetweener's style non-matching door, ever goes I may go for an newish Astra. I shouldn't tempt fate; the Punto's MOT is tomorrow. Any time, John. To be honest, I never managed to get powders to really stick to a model and found that varnishing over them lost the dusty effect they gave. Mixing with enamels certainly gives a deep, matt colour. Evening Guy - I've only fitted one coreless lump to a Dapol 22, which was a little Faulhaber driving to only one bogie. I'm not aware of any double ended coreless motors off the top of my head. The end results were silky smooth and it managed to shuffle 15 etched minerals around fine by the cost was excessive. All of the more recent locos are fitted with these - https://www.ebay.co.uk/itm/121463278485 . I can't rate them highly enough - not only are they a fraction of the cost of a Swiss coreless, they transform Dapol models into incredibly surefooted, reliable runners. So far I've fitted the to all my Hymeks, NBLs and the first Western is on the workbench at the moment - only takes about 30 minutes per loco. I've dropped one into a Farish Warship too, but they're not a great fit into the chassis block. If there's interested, I can do a write up. Here's an early prototype of the Hymek. Cheers, Pix

Thanks all for your comments. Unofficially, I'm twice as bad has him. It's certainly coming on nicely sir; although I'm a little worried about the overwhelming presence of copper-clad steam. What's happened to all the FGW livery P4 HSTs?! In all seriousness, it must be nice to have a place to let trains run around in a loop. I enjoy operating Parkend, but it would be nice to be able to leave them running for a while to really bed in. It occurred to me recently that the Waltham shows were a decade ago now; time truly does fly. Flies almost as well as my D6300 at the Maidenhead show... Aside from GlobalRail in Didcot, I've got a booking for Aldershot in 2018 and I've got a PM from Jerry about taking it to Warminster too which sounds like good fun. I'm very open to invites now that the layout is starting to get there – I'll probably try and do around two a year (ideally, one Autumn-ish and one Spring-ish) to space them out. Thanks Nick! It's a shame we didn't get a chance to say hello in person a the AGM. Colwyn for 2020? G'worn. Thanks Andy – indeed, it was excellent to see you again. Would I be right in thinking that D831 in the competition was your handy work? It certainly looked the part; there's something very attractive about BSYP livery. What's the betting, if I modelled a wild boar, someone would pull me up as they were only reintroduced in the 1990s? The one creature I would like to model is a greyhound – we had them in the family for years and I've never found a decent model of one. I might have to have a chat with Alan Butler at ModelU; although convincing one of them to stand still for long enough might be a challenge. Cheers Steve – your old NBL is in the same pile awaiting the final weathering and reassembly. I went for 6326 in the end; a strictly West Country machine but I fancied one with double arrows and TOPS style numbers. Reuben, sure. I've got Michael Eavis currently in touch about a Pyramid Stage headline slot and the Beckham's are considering renewing their vows for next year but we should be able to sort something out between the two. Mazel tov, in advance, for the big day. The presentation of your Frankland blogs more than make up for any waiting time Mark – they're superb! The main reason for considering etching the buildings is I'm pants at hand fabrication. If I draw something up in CAD I can add little alignment holes and jigs to make sure everything fits together squarely and neatly, then leave it to the nice etchers to do all the cutting out for me. That said, going the full etched route for several one-off buildings is a vastly over-engineered and paying for the photo-tool makes it an expensive option. If I was doing rows and rows of terraced houses, it would probably work out to be relatively cost effective but for a couple of cottages it's not viable really. The route I'll most likely take is to invest in one of those Silhouette cutters and assemble the shells of the building from plasticard. I'll etch the windows and doors, and probably get the roof slates from York Model Making. That's the best combination of me being able to avoid my cack-handedness and having the finesse of etched details, without having to sell the family silver. Also means I'll end up with a Silhouette cutter at the end of it, which looks like a useful too. No problems John – Putting aside rusty wagons for the moment, the below is more or less how I weather stock. Apologies it's locos rather than wagons, they're the photographs I have to hand. However, the process is the same essentially. I should say at this point, I'm by no means an expert - I do things in the opposite order to how a lot of books say to how to do it and use products in ways that they're not meant to be. But, it works for me. I should also point out the models swap around a bit as I was working on various models at the same time. First up, I always start with a base coat of Halford's aerosol primer. Usually grey, occasionally red oxide for bauxite wagons or maroon Warships. Next up, I paint the basic colours but none of the details. I'm a devout enamels man, usually Pheonix Precision. I'll paint everything, so black underframe moulding will get a coat of matt black - it gives the weathering something to hold onto and remove any chance of plasticy bits showing through. Then I mix up a slurry of Revell matt black enamel and MIG Russian Earth powders. With the enamel, do not shake it and fish out some of the sludge from the bottom to make your mixture; this should assure a matt finish. Thin with white spirit to around the consistency of milk. With a large brush, liberally apply to your carefully painted model. Make sure it goes into all nooks and crannies. Let it dry it 30 minutes or so. Then, using a old t-shirt that's been moistened with white spirit and working in a downward motion, wipe it all off again. Once you've removed the bulk, start to use some cotton buds dipped in white spirit for the finer areas, again working downwards. It's at this stage I apply the fine painted details and transfers. My preference for the latter are Replica's rub-down sheets for numbers and arrows. If I have to use waterslide, I'll apply them to a wet bed of Klear floor polish and roll a cotton bud over the, that should remove all silvering. I now give the body a blast of Testor's Dullcote to tie it altogether and seal the transfers in. Accept no substitute, anyone who says there is a better matt varnish is lying. It's evil stuff though, so wear a mask. The chassis gets another coat of slurry, this time an unthinned mixture of matt black, a drop of Humbrol 29 and more MIG Russian Earth. Give the underframe a good coat and leave to dry. I don't varnish the chassis, it looses some of the depth of colour if you do so. If it's a wagon, with the chassis attached, I'll give the underframe a coat of slurry after the coat of Testors. To round up, I'll use an airbrush just to do a few small details, like exhaust ports. I don't varnish over these as it flattens off the texture; I've had no issues with wear or anything. That's how I weather locos and wagons like those below, or vans, tanks, etc. For rusty minerals, I'll prime and paint the wagons and leave to dry for around a week. I'll then mix up a slurry of Humbrol 29 and a couple of MIG powders and stipple it onto the model with a small, stiff brush. I'll leave it to dry for a couple of hours, then with a white-spirit dipped cotton bud stipple over the same areas. This softens the rusting patterns and blends them into the main body colour. Once happy with it, I'll give the chassis a coat of the same slurry used in locos and give the interiors a coat of rusty colour slurry. Transfers and white stripes go in towards the end. For a worn stripe, I mask the line and stipple on the white. Hope this helps - it's certainly not a science. At least with minerals, if you really screw it up, you can do some path repairs! Cheers, Pix Below is the start of my Cavalier story that I originally put elsewhere. If people enjoy it, I'll post the rest. I do try my utmost not to be a car bore in it, I promise. ------------------------- I recently did something I always talked about, but thought I'd always find a reason not to. Here's the story, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Cavalier Chronicles – Part 1 – Genesis As modellers and cranks we're inherently nostalgic folk. We always talk about how great things were, rather than how good they're going to be. Similarly, we rarely model what we think the future will look like. Personally, I love a good nostalgia fix. I think the way a sight, a smell or a piece of music can take you straight back to a time and place is amazing. One of the biggest icons of my childhood were the cars that my Dad drove. Here he is below on the far left, during work experience at Warfield Garage in his teens. Vauxhalls have long been part of the Nicholls family. It all began with my Dad's blue Viva HB - whilst not his first car, it was certainly the first he took any pride in. For its inaugural run, he took it to The Leathern Bottle for a swift half. Evidently plans changed, and many pints of Directors later, he found himself staggering home in the early hours, forgetting his steed. He awoke next morning to apoplectic Dad and a barrage of questions, mostly, "Where's your 'kin car?!" The Viva was instrumental in Dad's brief fling into pirate radio. Dad and best friend Paul (or Steve Eagle and Zhar Nicholas to use their respective handles) would drive deep into Swinley Forest and hook up the car's battery to their home-made transmitter, broadcasting the best of 60's psychedelia across Berkshire as Radio Andromeda. Well, across Bracknell at least. It was later found that Andromeda only had a range of a mile or so. The blue Viva always was a bit iffy and eventually the head gasket gave way. Like all good siblings, Dad sold it to his brother Pete in 'as-new' condition. Its replacement was another HB Viva. Dad took Mum out on their first date in this car and later they used it to move out of their respective parents and into their flat in Birch Hill. They even used it to run off to Brighton and get married too, just taking one witness each. Their next car was another Viva - this time a red Viva HC. Sadly, I've not been able to find any photos of this one so far. Enter DJB 181V. A 1980 Cavalier 1600L, in vibrant 'Orange Tan' with a beige plaid interior. The very best in 1970s styling and colour sense. Bought nearly-new with known serious engine issues, my Dad took a gamble that he could make it right. It burnt as much oil as it did petrol, requiring a full rebore and rebuild to put right. I think in hindsight he'd have done better to pay slightly more for a good'un. The Cavalier became a reliable runaround - it took Dad to Sperry's every day for work, shopping trips to MFI for the latest in black ash furniture and, one afternoon in October '88, a very weary trip back from Heatherwood Hospital with a new addition. I adored that car. Whilst rarely the focal point, the Cav was always there in the background. It was the choice mode of transport for every school run, summer holiday and, most importantly, summer evenings out watching the trains go by at 'The Bridge'. For unfortunate and self-explanatory reasons, this site is now know as 'Dogger's Bridge' but back then it was simply 'The Bridge'. Such activities had been invented in 1992. Besides, even if it had, my innocent mind wouldn't have understood it - I was too busy pretending to take photographs. The Cav represents growing up to me: Big Break, Blind Date and The Generation Game were staple Saturday night telly. Every evening was sunny, John Kettley promised so. Creme Eggs were seasonal. Soul Limbo was the sound of BBC cricket. Happiness was a choc-ice in a blue and white paper wrapper. An Intercity 125 could go 125mph, so obviously Intercity 225 could go 225mph. Doom was the pinnacle of PC gaming. An evening out would involve chicken nuggets, 'red' flavour juice drinks and rub-on Charlie Chalk tattoos. An evening in would involve Monopoly and Dad passing me cash under the table in order to win. If they were feeling extravagant, a bottle of Hock or Blue Nun would appear. The Toys'R'Us advert was a sure sign Christmas was coming. Pogs. The concept of stress hadn’t even registered - no KPIs, no deadlines, no desktop politics, no moron trying to tell you what to do in order to give themselves an ego-massage. The only real concern was where the next Secret bar was coming from. In reality, this was a tough time for Mum and Dad. Sperry's left Bracknell in 1989, leaving Dad jobless in the middle of a recession. Mum had left work to raise me, but had to try and find something to bring the pennies in. Ultimately they were both out of work for almost 4 years. This was probably why DJB 181V lasted so long - patching the old girl up so she could scrape through another MOT was cheaper than finding something else. The fact I hold these days in such high regard, despite the situation, is testament to a job well done. Pete on the other hand was doing well in life - perhaps it was karma for that hooky Viva Dad sold him? He'd landed a job that included a company car. Being a family of habit, he chose a Mk.3 Cavalier. Next to a Mk.1 it seemed absolutely space age - electric windows, power steering, FM radio and, heaven forbid, even a fifth gear. ete's Mk.3 soon took over the top-link workings to the West Country for summer holidays. I'm not sure where the below was taken, but you have to applaud my dad's choice of double denim. It was the 90s - this was socially acceptable! Meanwhile I'm sat lamenting the loss of Secret chocolate bars, following their recent discontinuation. DJB 181V soldiered on with the more mundane tasks of daily life. But after 18 years of solid service, the inevitable death knell finally sounded. She'd never been garaged and it showed - the underside was like a patchwork quilt, there were various spots of patch painting and the interior was cracked and torn. DJB 181V was weighed in on the 1st May 1997 - the day of the General Election. It had the dubious honour of the first car my Dad owned to the end of its life. After carefully prising off the front crest, Dad and I took one last ride to the Wokingham scrapyard it'd die in. Several weeks later, my uncle Mark reported it was still there, sandwiched between a Maestro and a Sierra. Her replacement was another Cavalier. A lack-lustre Mk.2 hatchback, bought from a family in Slough for £600. Mum hated this car as it took every opportunity to flood itself. I remember helping her unbolt the air filter housing in Princess Square car park to make the fuel to evaporate quicker. It'd evidently had a fairly big prang at the front too. C281 NCF only lasted 18 months until rust claimed another victim. It too was weighed in at the same Wokingham scrapyard as DJB 181V. I didn't bother going with Dad this time, I was too miffed that the front badge was moulded on and I couldn't keep it. Another Mk2 hatchback followed - it came from my friend Tommy's mum, so I naturally claimed to have brokered the deal and asked for a finder’s fee. It was fine. Not great, just fine. At least it didn't drown itself in petrol, which my mum no doubt appreciated. Personally, I appreciated its enormous bonnet for sketching out track plans. It was around this time that Pete changed jobs and his Mk.3 spaceship had to be returned. Following my parents’ lead, he went for Champagne Mk2 hatchback that was a previously a decorator's runaround. The interior smelt of jam doughnuts, but picking off flecks of paint kept me entertains on longer journeys. Both of the above suffered inglorious ends - Dad drove his into a Rover on icy morning and within days, a botched theft attempt also wrote off Pete's Cavalier. Both parties abandoned Vauxhalls - Dad went for a Fiat Tipo, allured by the promise of galvanised bodywork and a million miles to the gallon. Pete went for a Mazda 323F because a friend, who just happened to be selling one, drunkenly convinced him it'd be a good idea. After four decades of brand loyalty, the Nicholls clan was Vauxhall-less.For me the subsequent years were a standard, adolescent-fuelled mixture of spots and crap haircuts. Going to 'Big School' lead to GCSEs, A-levels, University and the wonderful world of work. There was number firsts - first parties, first girlfriends, first break-ups, first time living away from home, first holidays, first gigs, first cigarettes, first jobs, and so on. All the time I hung onto the badge from DJB 181V, a memento of more innocent age. I joked with Dad that it'd form the basis of a new-build project, even giving it a new coat of paint and a good polish. He evidently thought it was a pipe dream, but was seemingly touched by the sentiment. It wasn't a completely empty threat - I had the occasional trawl through eBay and would bore anyone near by about my grand plan. But it was always something for the future. Something to think about in an idle moment. To be continued...

Wasn't me, I swear guv'. Pix

A year. I'm a yearlate in replying. Apologies. I had an email from my boss the other day telling me, quite bluntly, I was dreadful at replying to emails. Initially I was taken aback but, upon reflection, I think he may have a point.... Thanks Jerry. Parkend's first outing will be the German Railway Society's (naturally) show in Didcot on May 10th next year. Come along, have a play. I'll make sure there's a stash of biscuits behind the layout. Cheers Jamie - it was MOT time in March for the Cavalier; it felt like my first born going in for surgery! It passed with two advisories on the rear tyres getting a bit old; which I'll happily settle for. What's your project car? Have you been able to get it back in the road yet? I've written up my story for the Cavalier club's forum which I'll transfer across to here in due course. The main focus over the last year has been hoovering up as many spares as I can lay my hands on; there's no real trade support for the Cavalier so I'm taking every chance I get to build up a stock of bits. One thing I've learn to tearing an old at apart is immensely satisfying. Even ended up dragging a pair of fellow RMwebbers to see one in Nottingham the weekend if the 2mm do at Turbury. Sorry, gents. It is indeed OOO; I'd not made the Lone Star connection! Cheers Mark. The flappy door was fixed by soldering in a weight on the inside of it and adding a little bar so it's sits just off vertical when the tipper is lowered. It's only by a few degrees, and looks a little odd in profile, but means it door doesn't wiggle about. I think everyone knew someone who has one at some point! Congratulations on the new arrival Mr P, sounds like you've got a very feminine home life in the future! Hi Sam - Yep, that'd be me. The detailing etch came first and the chassis came afterwards. I've never made them available openly - not through a lack of desire or willing; i'm just a bit crap at getting a sheet etched in order to supply them. Ironically, I'm a Supply Chain Manager by profession. After a bit of arm twisting at the AGM I've vowed that this winter will be the winter I pull my finger out and get them produced. Hello Kevin, how's things? Alan Whitehouse had a 123 at the AGM which looks very neat and, if I remember well, proved to be award winning too. My own 123 lingers on - I made a test print of the TS body in the Spring to make sure I was on the right track and it fitted the CEP chassis OK. It's stalled a little whilst I focus on things for Parkend, but I keep plugging away when I feel like it. I did make a start on the cabs but I struggled a bit in 123D; I may give Blender or Sketchup a go. One thing I was surprised out was how different the profile is in 2mm. When it's drawn up in CAD it's barely noticeable but it can certainly be seen in the flesh. To be honest, the bulk of the work is done; I just need to bring it all together. ----------------- As alluded to above, I've been plodding on with Parkend primarily over the last few months. The layout itself is now covered in green and the size of the detailing parts is getting progressively smaller. The biggest gaps now are really the buildings, the red-oxide place-keepers there at present are destined for the bin at somepoint. I'm tempted to etch the buildings I require, in the style of the Severn Models kits, but it becomes very expensive for a one-off. We'll see. I've been working hard on the ancillary bits to make the layout as easy as possible to pack-up and move to exhibitions. I really don't want exhibiting Parkend to be a chore - it's meant to be a hobby after all, so I've tried to apply a few Kaizen principles to it all. First thing was to get a little workspace in the fiddle yard for any in the road repairs, with a plug socket fitted. Then a tool box that contains everything that's not attached to the layout (tools, cassettes, layout assembly bolts, layout curtain, etc) with an inventory list to make sure I remember everything. I'd not heard of a bullet spirit level before, but this little gizmo is great for getting the boards levels. Stock box has come from KRS, they're great and should keep the sock safe. Usual disclaimer. Packing crates have been built and are ready to go. The arrows are little laser cut items from eBay. Also got some business cars to hand out if anyone asks about the layout for a show. I used to sprawl my details out on the back of whatever was to hand so hopefully these are a little neater. I've worked on a few more locos too. The core fleet of NBL type 2s now numbers six examples that are in the final phases of weathering and reassembly. All are Dapol based but have been repainted and the chassis rebuilt/remotored. I'm pleased with D6326 and D6331 particularly. I've also done a 24/1 and 25/0 conversion from the Etched Pixels kit for the Farish 24/0. The odd 25/0 made it to Gloucester in my time frame so it's bit completely impossible one made it to Parkend, albeit unlikely. I did them as I think they look cool; they're a good space filled until we get a decent 25/3 too. And finally, thanks to my terrible attention span, I've also been working on a model of the Prototype HST. This definitely never made it to Parkend, but some kind soul put some very nice bodyshells onto Shapeways a whole back that were too good to pass up. I'm working on a master for the Prototype Mk3s, the below are stand-ins for the moment. At the other end of the size spectrum, I've also been working on a model of Reading Signal Works humble 88DS, number 20. It's mainly a Judith Edge kit with a cobbled together chassis, giving a 100:1 reduction. It's going OK so far, but needs a bit more loving to get it running sweetly. Right, bed time. I'll try to be a bit quicker in my replies this time round! Cheers, Pix

Oh nurse! That's a beautifully timeless photograph. Steve

Cheers Andy - I'll just go for the simple life and keep mine as 6412. Cheers, Pix

Ah! You sent me off to flick through some books this evening David and appear to be quite correct. I'd previously lumped together all 16xx/54xx/64xx/74xx into one pile, not really noticing that only the former appears on non-special workings. Perhaps it's not the quick-win mundane works horse I'd planned. Never mind, it's still a cute little model. I'd probably go for 6412 as it was a local machine; although there's photo of 6437 in the Forest. Where does one source number plates for these steam devices? Pix

Thanks gentlemen; that was precisely the answer I was hoping for! I, too, am awaiting the BR green one - 6412 was a Gloucester loco at the end so there is a fighting chance it made it to Parkend at some point. Pix

Hi all, Quick off the mark I know, but has anyone looked at the new Farish 64xx with a view of 2mm'ing it please? I'm hoping it may have a similar set up to the Jinty and allow use of the Association conversion parts. Cheers, Pix

Well, I'd buy a couple of extra Parlour Firsts for dissecting if Farish released them. I don't think the uptake would be anywhere near enough to justify a production run mind. Being able to access additional Parlour Seconds would certainly be useful for those prepared to carve them up - if you take a Midland 6-car set and add in two additional Parlous Seconds you have enough bits and pieces to model an 8-car Western set. One pair of Parlour Firsts can be used straight off in a Western set. The Western Kitchen Firsts then needs the chassis and the big windowed toilet from the other set of Parlour Firsts. The remaining body, chassis and toilet offcut is the right combination for the Parlour Second. I 3D-printed the window inserts for the second class spacing for the Motor Seconds and Parlour Second to drop in. They match the Farish window mo I sourced my bits from the Farish yellow front ones - at £171 for a six car set from Hattons, this must be the bargain of the century. I must get round to finish painting them soon. Cheers, Pix

Adam - lovely stuff, as ever! There's at least one - http://www.ws.vintagecarriagestrust.org/ws/WagonInfo.asp?Ref=9223. I've never been able to get near it on various trips to the Glow Warks but it's nice that one clings onto existence, I think it's a vac-braked one too. Pix

Having deposited it's train of empty 16T minerals at the wharf for loading, 5182 quietly waits for its allotted departure time to arrive at Parkend. Pix

I'm more concerned they're driving on the wrong side of the road. Maybe they've had a scoop too many in the Fountain Inn? Pix

A mundane snap from Parkend... ...and a slightly less arty one. Pix

Morning all, Clocks have gone back - welcome to the 2015/16 Modelling Season! I trust you're workbenches and biscuit tins are well stocked for the next 6 months. The summer months have seen minimal modelling here, mostly working on more bits of greenery on Parkend and starting to draw a couple of buildings up in CAD. One end is looking less of train set and fairly... well, 'layouty'. Excuse the flappy door, that'll be dealt with. I've not been completely idle during the summer. I did something I've talked about for years but always thought I'd find a reason not to - I bought a Mk.1 Cavalier. Perhaps not the obvious classic choice, whilst Aston Martins and Ferraris are very nice, I've got no association with them and neither do many others. Everyone knew someone with a Mk.1 Cavalier though - a true, porridge car. Besides, it's not the first one in the family. Yep, that's me and behind is the sadly departed DJB 181V. The last few months have been spent cleaning, scraping, stripping, washing, priming, rust-treating, overhauling, rust-treating some more, swearing and, most of all, enjoying. It's modelling, just in 1:1 scale. Even more excitingly, a Dutch chap on Shapeways has recently remodelled his Ascona drawing into a 1:148 Mk.1 Cavalier - Christmas has truly come early here! Cheers, Pix

Most certainly the former - I'm still indebted to Bryn for his time to develop these. As Andy said, a lot of his time has gone into breathing life back into Prototype HST recently - modelling in 1:1 scale I guess! I really owe him a phone call, I'll point him in the direction of this thread. Cheers, Steve

Hi Ben, Sorry for the delay in replying. Static grass is this stuff - http://www.ebay.co.uk/itm/251316108265. It's a nice neutral tone to work with. In terms of method, I just coat the area with normal PVA fairly thinly and apply a good coat of the grass. For colouring I swear by thinned Humbrol 150, applied very randomly with an old brush. Finally finish up with a coat of hairspray and finally a coat of Testors Mattcote. Cheers, Steve PS - Pendo looks superb!

This is a long shot, but worth a go! Can any recommend, or point me in the direction of, a pre-purchase inspection company that covers the Republic of Ireland and classics please? The RAC offers a classic car inspection service in the UK, so I'm hoping for something similar. The Irish AA lists pre-purchase inspections, but they're not keen on looking at anything over 15 years old. Something smart from 1979 has turned up in Donegal. Cheers, Pix

Spring has evidently reached Parkend as more greenery is starting to appear on the layout. Inspired by Gordon Gravett's books and Julia's blog, I've ben experimenting with various combinations of static grasses, a bit of scatter and a tin of trusty Humbrol 150 to give a nice subtle effect. Still needs lots of detailing, shrubbery, weeds and things but it's starting to look more like a model than planks of wood with track on. I think so Andy, although I get the impression his to-do list is huge. All in good time I guess! Pix

Evening Kevin! As my bearded amigo mentioned, we've been on a bit of adventure to Dresden, via Dortmund Intermodellbau and the Harz, which hasn't meant nothing on the modelling front for the last couple of weeks. The Western etches are waiting for me to do something with them and the 123 is still sitting, somewhat appropriately, in 123D. I'm quite keen to try out Shapeways new FXD material so I may look at printing the 123 TSL to make sure the principle works. There's progress on the Western Pullman, Brian Hanson has very kindly produced some beautiful laser-cut windows for the second class vehicles. I really have no excuse to get them finished now. Thanks Brian! Apart from that, the layout is a now a very appealing shade of brown and there's even a pocket or two if grass appearing, although just a test piece at the moment. As Rich alluded to, at Intermodllbau I picked up a Magnorail starter set to play with. It's a clever means of powering road vehicles (including off the peg HO cyclists!) using a glorified plastic bike chain and magnets. Movement is a lot more natural that the Faller system and linked to an Arduino could be really well controlled. I'm not sure if it'll be used on Parkend, but I'm tempted to add something. Here's a video that's not mine... More soon. Cheers, Pix

Goldcrests have reappeared here in Bracknell after a winter absence and we've also had a male Blackcap appear which is a first. Still a worrying lack of Starlings though. Pix