Driver H. Potter's Wombledon Park Picture Page: Blog

Spin Spin Sugar

Tue, 01 Jul 2008 19:34:29 GMT

OK.

Now, concentrate folks. This is going to be difficult for some of you, so I'll drop in certain words and phrases during this post to keep your attention focused. The first person to spot them all will win a small prize courtesy of Potters Excess Railway Junk Ltd. We're going to talk about railways. This will come as no surprise to some of you, and others will as I write this, be frantically clicking the "Back" button on their browser.

Whitehall has been talking about electrifying the UK Rail Network. Sounds a good idea, doesn't it? All those lovely sparks on the mainline, none of this costly running diesel trains on electrified tracks and best of all keeping the precious fuel in reserve so that railway anoraks and hooligan drivers can use it to make bloody great clouds of smoke at railway diesel galas. I know the last category isn't perhaps valid on a national scale, but some of the hooligan drivers know where I live and having all the windows intact gives such a finished look to a house, don't you think? But I digress. Could this be the beginning of the new Age of the Train? Better yet, could this be the new age of the train but without Jimmy Saville? Well, probably not. After all, we wouldn't want a pretty document to get in the way of unpleasant hard facts. Hard facts like EU emissions directives that will mean closing down polluting coal-fired power stations. Hard facts like even if we start now, sufficient nuclear power generation (it's the future, folks - despite what the likes of Friends of the Earth seem to think) wouldn't be online until 2030. So where would all this electricity come from exactly? Clearly Whitehall has been in intensive negotiation with the electricity fairies: that or this is all simply schmaltz to disguise the fact that the DafT (thank you, Railway Eye) really has not got a sodding clue how to run a railway. It's a worrying thought that after we managed to leave the Tory "railway in decline" years firmly behind us, none in charge seems to have any idea of how to further expand a growing business.

Thinks: Perhaps that's the difference between business and government - business goes about getting results, whilst governments merely talk about getting them...

Thinks again: Time for an attention-getting phrase...

Large Pert Boobies...

There. That seems to cover that.

Anyhow, why the hell are electrification and capacity not being considered together? Surely logic would dictate an incremental approach of identify which routes would benefit from the wires or juice rail, then apply those along with work to enhance track capacity so that civil engineering costs aren't incurred twice? For those of you who are knowledgeable, I'm thinking of the Salisbury to Exeter route in this instance. Why in God’s name would anyone think that marrying two schemes into one wouldn't be cost effective? The High Speed Rail Link from St Pancras to the Channel Tunnel is proof that major engineering can be achieved on time and on budget. By the way, anyone sat at their computer screens yelling "Rugby! Liverpool Street! Shields Junction!" and pulling their hair out might have a point - Network Rail seems to have trouble organising the proverbial drinking session within the ale-producing facility at the moment. So back to capacity and enhancement. The network is creaking. Rather loudly. In deference to Network Rail, they have the unenviable task of running a railway, repairing the railway and pandering to TOCs and government know-nothings all at the same time. One wonders how Iain Coucher, NRs head honcho and public Hate Figure in Chief, sleeps at night? If I thought I had to repair a knackered system, run said system harder than it's been run since the 1940s with less than half of the capacity it had in the 1940s, keep the government quiet and try to achieve economies year-on-year but cutting down repair work I'd have to hang myself: quickly.

That said I probably still manage to garner a large bonus of some sort; in this case possibly for reducing wear and tear on the office carpet or perhaps I might gain a knighthood for services to the Rope Industry...

Oiled lithe bodies performing certain naughty acts...

(Cunning eh? Suggestive and yet completely "My Mum" friendly.)

So, on the large scale, the Railway is going to hell on a handcart.* On the micro scale, of course, minor miracles are performed on a daily basis. Staff work their buttocks off, trains run, goods move, passengers are carted from place to place in reasonable time and comfort - Things Work. I was greatly heartened to see that Virgin West Coast have been running trains along diversionary routes rather than simply sticking their passengers on buses this weekend. What a novel idea: if one route isn’t available, then find another route that is and use it. Gosh. Perhaps Network Rail isn’t such a bad old stick after all? It would be nice to think that we are moving forwards, though: allowing our passengers to travel on the trains they paid through-the-nose to ride on would be a good start don’t you think? It’s a sad thought to entertain, but Virgins efforts seem to be an isolated spark of common sense. Judging by the bilge and spin spouting from the Department of Transport, it seems that the railway industry is forever doomed to tread water.

Oh well - at least we'll soon have some Real Trains back on the mainline. And perhaps sooner than everyone thinks...

* - As long as the handcart isn't made by Alstom, I don't mind. There's nothing worse than having to journey to eternal damnation and having to stop en route to reboot the onboard computer. Perhaps a travelling fitter would be in order.

Not All The Time, But Sometimes...

Sat, 21 Jun 2008 00:16:17 GMT

Remember how good life is. Remember you are lucky to have a pulse. After all, a lot of people don't - Napoleon, Leonardo da Vinci, Beethoven, Jimi Hendrix, Kurt Cobain. Look at a sunrise and remember that you are the only person who will ever see what you are seeing, who will ever stand where you stand and think your thoughts.

I only offer these thoughts having just seen a spoken word performance by Henry Rollins on Youtube (YouTube being what 01.10 on a sleepless Saturday morning was invented for). The performance was, well, powerful. I have a lot of time for Mr Rollins and his thoughts: make 20 minutes in your life, watch both videos.

Henry isn't a hippy. I am. But on this we both agree - life is for living. Enjoy it.

A South Western Slammer Back From The Dead

Mon, 16 Jun 2008 18:02:48 GMT

It's for real folks - I've just been emailed the press release:

News Release

Classic Slam Door Electric Train To Return to the Mainline

16^th June 2008

Bruce Knights, Managing Director of Knights Rail Services Ltd has today announced his agreement to purchase the remaining 63 stock EMU vehicles in store at MOD Shoeburyness, with the express intention of returning a Southern Region slam door electric train to the mainline.

The ex Fratton Depot 4 car CIG unit 1881 is considered to be in excellent condition and will be reinstated for occasional mainline use by the technical teams at Eastleigh Works, where the slam door trains were overhauled and maintained throughout their lives. The former Southern Railway Works at Eastleigh, shut by Alstom in 2006, was reopened by Knights Rail last year and has a healthy and growing rail business once again. The site retains its electrified third rail system in active use and has the heavy engineering workshops necessary to maintain the trains.

The vehicles will be renovated as a commercial venture designed to showcase the capabilities and expertise of KRS and Eastleigh Works. They will also be used to provide training for engineers and technicians learning about electric traction systems.

Bruce Knights commented

“I’ve wanted to get one of these trains back running again for many years and seeing the immaculate blue VEP 3417 at Swanage in May tipped me over the edge. I would have dearly loved to acquire that one but it’s already spoken for, so 1881 it is. The other vehicles we have purchased would need extensive work to bring them back into service and it may make sense to look around for another sound 4 car unit to join 1881.

Electric trains parked off the power are a bit like Concorde in a museum, in that you really need to see them in action to appreciate them properly. We are uniquely placed to run these classic electric trains, having all the facilities, resources and expertise to do it. Whilst I will be quite happy to lend our units to preserved lines from time to time, the real purpose is to run them back over their old routes under power, whilst giving hands on training to the next generation of engineers. Of course, when the day comes that we run a classic 8 car slam door EMU into a London Terminus you can expect me to be grinning from ear to ear”

The purchased units 1881 and 1304, along with a hybrid made from vehicles from 3536 and 1884 will be moved to the Knights Rail’s Eastleigh Works in July for assessment. Unit 1881 will be re-commissioned into mainline running status over the next 6 months, initially for use in multiple with class 73s but later for use on its own. The issues concerning fitment of OTMR and secondary door locking are under investigation. It is hoped that some or all of the vehicles will feature in a celebration of Eastleigh Works centenary in 2009.

Notes to Editors

Knights Rail Services Ltd is a £2M turnover privately owned railway services business formed in 2001. It operates its train decontamination and asbestos removal business from Shoeburyness in Essex and leases Eastleigh Works in Hampshire for railway rolling stock activities. 1963 Stock is the group name for the famous slam door electric trains that operated on the South London lines until 2005. Apart from 6 coaches operated by Southwest Trains on the short Lymington branch, no units remain in active service.

NB: Fat Potter is now going to go and have a lie-down in a darkened room until his heart rate drops below 200 bpm.... Bruce - you don't need a qualified driver for 1881, do you?

OK - A Slight Guff-Up...

Thu, 12 Jun 2008 18:45:37 GMT

I have this day been sent an email by one Bruce Knights, of Knights Rail Services.

I thought I'd let you know, folks, because in it he was kind enough to correct something that I had been told and had passed on in good faith. Sadly everyone makes mistakes, and my mistake on this occasion was to trust information which I had no way to verify. Well, not until today at least. So, for anyone who is still reading, I have to tell you that I was wrong. 3417, Wimbledon Parks baby, is not going to be returning to the mainline any time soon. She will be going to the Bluebell Railway, to be cared for by that august and well respected company, and will fly the flag for them as they progress in their bid to extend their running line to East Grinstead.

Naturally, that isn't the news I wanted to give you all: but economics and Real Life have to get in the way of pipe-dreams every once in a while.

To anyone involved in the Bluebell Railway, my sincere and unreserved apologies. I think I've created work for you where work wasn't needed. Sorry, chaps.

But ("in itallics", thought the attentive reader, "something important must be coming up") it turns out I wasn't wide of the mark concerning a 400-series slammer coming back to the mainline. I just got the number wrong. It's not going to be 3417 that makes a glorious come-back, it's going to be 1881. Not a VEP, but a CIG. Below is the edited message Bruce sent me today, detailing what he's doing - nice to be given the news first. Thanks, Bruce! - and what will be moving to Eastliegh in the next few months. For those of you who have even a passing interest in railway preservation, I'm certain you'll agree that this is a big deal. Hot on the heels of the amazing work of the AC Loco Group, it looks like the Southern Electric is going to be the next port of call for electric preservation.

"I’ve just looked over the units at Shoebury and 1881 has blown me away by being in really good nick. It doesn’t even smell damp and was clearly in good order before being retired. The interior is better than I could have possibly hoped for with virtually new cushions. This unit won’t take very much to get back up and running at all. It even had traces of air still in it from a move 2 weeks ago.
The VEP TS and MBS from 423536 are less good but fully complete. They have the usual upholstery rot under the windows and the red cushions are faded and dirty but the fact that there is an MBS left out of the unit and not a DT as I had been led to believe is another good result. Nothing appears to have been removed.
The 2 DTS from 1884 are not too bad with a bit of water ingress but nothing major. Apart from the speedo they are also complete AFAIK.
All these 8 vehicles will be straightforward to move out by rail.
Poor old 1304 is less good. It’s had its brake chests, MBS doors and dash panels removed and is also pretty damp throughout. It’ll have to move by road and is realistically only useful for spares. Having said that, it’ll yield enough bits to keep 1881 on the line for years to come.
So 1881 it is. I’ll buy all of 12 of the Shoebury vehicles and either strip the others for spares."

So there we are. At last, the real prospect of seeing classic Southern Electric traction back where it belongs - on the mainline.

The whole of the Southern network suddenly becomes available - yes, that could mean having a locomotive to pilot the units, but frankly that is good enough. And that piloting loco doesn't have to stay on the Southern, either. The first slammer to Plymouth, anyone? Or the first slammer over the Settle - Carlisle?!

It doesn't even end there - with the addition of the obligatory black box and of course central door locking there is the chance of seeing one of these fine workhorses back out on the mainline, at mainline speeds, on their own.

For myself, things are bittersweet. 3417 will still be going to her rest at East Grinstead, and after the work Wimbledon has put into her that counts as a loss. The Bluebell will do their damndest to keep her looking good, I have no doubt, and good luck to them.

But the reality of Bruces plan is that at least one mainline slam door unit will be seen out there flying the flag: and for that we must be more than grateful!

Now - I wonder how I persuade SWT to let me keep that little "400-series" box on my driving licence...?

It's Getting Closer....

Wed, 11 Jun 2008 20:11:48 GMT

Anyone remember this...?

"... a gleaming 8-car slam door train galloping along the South Western mainline in BR blue and grey, two-tone horn blaring as it charges past Wimbledon Park depot on the Down Fast at 75mph towards Weymouth. Depot staff stand outside the shed watching 'their' eight-car pass, passengers at the windows, photographers at the line side. 1304 and 1396 blast through, the last of the South Western Greyhounds, with motors howling, barrelling over the crossings before diving under Durnsford Road bridge... pick-up shoes arcing as they cross the gaps in the juice with the power handle never leaving Notch Four. Haring into the curve at Wimbledon, the driver sounds the horn and leaves it open as he passes the platform - the cameras click as a waved hand appears briefly at the the windscreen."

Well, it might be getting a little closer.

Stay tuned folks. Things are happening...

I Haven't Forgotten How To Type.

Sat, 07 Jun 2008 21:18:32 GMT

They Might Be Giants - Birdhouse in Your Soul: Listen to it. Terribly 80's, you know.

(Jesus, I remember watching the video premier on No Limits...)

Good evening, folks of world! Yes, it's Potter - I'm back, here in the Flesh (there's so much of it, too) and very much alive and whinging. I trust I find you, my fellow patients in the great Hospital Wing of Railway Employment and/or Enthusiasm, well and happy with your lot? I shall assume that question received a unanimous nod of agreement, and respond with a hearty "Glad to hear it."

*Brief pause to consult the 'Getting Blog Back on Track' List. "Greetings - check. Enquiry as to health and sanity of readers - check. Narrative gesture of support, fellow-feeling and pleasure at assumed positive response to previous enquiry - check."

Good - that's that out of the way. Now on to things of import. Firstly, folks, 3417 is home. Yes, yesterday at approximately Stupid o'clock the Big Blue Buckland Machine arrived home after her yearly holiday to the seaside. I have taken her out of a brief jaunt around the yard and I can tell you that she is very glad not to have various examples of rusty scrap metal coupled to her nose-end. Don't get me wrong, she's terribly grateful for the publicity and all that: it's just that, well, all that noise and showmanship is so very diesel. Honestly boys - there's a reason railway diesels drive electric motors. It's because electricity is better. Now go away, think about how naughty you've been to the environment, repent and then lay down a proper juice rail*. Don't forget, oil-burning luddites: when the diesel supply has long since run dry, when you're all running around begging the local chip shops for their chip fat so that your engines can be turned over, the third rail will still be running with nuclear power... Oh, and we'll be laughing a bit as well. Actually we'll be laughing quite a lot, now I come to think about it. Quite hysterically, in fact. For a long, long time. Anyway, as I think I might have mentioned earlier, Swanage was grand fun and many chums were made. A few of them were chums we already knew about, but some of them were new and could prove to be terribly important - but more of that in another post...

South West Trains, the mad fools, have still not changed their mind about me driving mainline trains. The poor misguided souls. I've tried folks - I have forwarded your reams of correspondence on to our head office, I have respectfully pointed out how many of you have threatened to abandon rail transport all together should a short fat ex-shunt driving bloke be spotted in the cab of their daily commuter service to our fair Capital. Honestly, I passed on every email. Some of them I simply passed (having printed them out and eaten them first, of course) but despite my efforts on your behalf it seems to have had no effect. In fact it seems to have been counterproductive; the company have brought my course forward by a month: clearly they think you deserve me. (Whatever you've done to upset them, dear readers, I suggest you apologise.) Thus, on the 26th of September, it becomes once again safe to walk around Wimbledon Park Traincare Depot without having to peer around corners to check for wandering anoraks and on the same date it becomes distinctly dicey to board a train without first checking the identity of the driver. You have been warned. I have been studying my rule book, but at this stage the study mostly consists of glancing at my book shelf, saying "Yes, it's still there" and then going back to reading a Harry Potter novel#. My revision will, of course, become more rigorous as the course approaches. By the end of the month I might actually have got around to picking the Rule Book up. But one thing at a time, eh? I don't want to strain myself.

What else has been going on? Well, to be honest not a lot that I can discuss on here - which is a shame because some of it is by turns hysterically funny and deeply worrying depending on your point of view. All I can say is that I am glad I keep a diary, and that one day, when the railway is finished with me or vice versa (hopefully just after I reach retirement age - I'm having far too much fun to leave willingly) I would like to write a book about the people I've worked with and the things I've seen and done. Because I for one think it could make for an interesting read... If you've ever thought you might enjoy working in an environment where you meet what could charitably be called "characters", where every day offers something different and where tea and biscuits become and essential part of existence - Join The Railway. We need you, Ty-Phoo needs you and McVities need you.

Oh hell, enough of this - It's getting on for half ten in the evening and I need to be up at 04:30 tomorrow morning. Time for Potter Beddy-byes.

Be at peace, my children. Go amongst your fellows with joy, with tranquillity and with your wallet in a zipped-up pocket.

Night night.

* - Or some of that complicated nearly-wind-resistant 25Kv overhead knitting nonsense if you must. But juice rails are best. Only real railwaymen can trip over their power supply.

# - Harry Potter reads Harry Potter. You couldn't make it up, could you? It feels like other people read the books for entertainment whilst I read them to find out what I was doing last term...

Everyday Phenomena Identification

Mon, 02 Jun 2008 23:21:32 GMT

And now another in the occasional series brought to you by Potter Enterprises listing everyday occurrences and their classifications. Never be stuck when trying to describe that awkward or embarrassing event - use the Potter Guide to Everyday Phenomena!

Part 27: Types of Poo

Ghost Poo:
You know you've pooed. There's poo on the toilet paper, but not in the
toilet. Where is it?

Teflon Poo:
So slick and easy you don't even feel it. No trace of poo on the
toilet paper. You have to look in the toilet to be sure you did it.

Goo Poo:
This has the consistency of hot tar. You wipe twelve times and you
still don't come clean. You end up putting toilet paper in your
underwear so you don't soil it. Permanent skid marks are left in the
toilet.

Second Thoughts Poo:
You're all done wiping and about to stand up when you realise...
there's more to come.

The “Pop a Vein in Your Forehead” Poo:
This is the kind of poo that killed Elvis. It doesn't want to come out
until you're all sweaty, trembling, and purple from straining so hard.

Weight Watchers Poo:
You poo so much you lose several pounds.

Right Now Poo:
You'd better be within thirty seconds of a toilet. You burn rubber to
get there and it usually gets its head out before you can get your
pants down.

King Kong Poo:
This one is so big you think it won't go down the toilet unless you
break it into smaller chunks. A wire coat hanger usually works well.
This kind of poo usually happens when you're at someone else's house.

Cork Poo:
Also known as "floaters." Even after the third flush it's still there,
floating in the bowl. My God! How do I get rid of it?

Wet Cheeks Poo:
This poo hits the water sideways and makes a bigger splash than the
launching of the QE2, soaking your starfish.

Wish Poo:
You sit there all cramped up and fart a few times, but no poo.

Cement Block Poo:
You wish you'd got a spinal block before you pooed.

Snake Poo:
This poo is fairly soft, about as thick as your thumb and at least
three feet long.

Morning After Poo:
Happens the day after the night before. Normally your poo doesn't
smell that bad, but THIS one... Usually you're at someone else's house
(normally a girl you're trying to impress) and they're waiting outside
to use the bathroom.

Mexican Food Poo:
Also called "screamers." You know it's safe to eat again when your bum
stops burning.

“Boo Hoo” Poo:
Makes you cry with pain and wonder whether your should risk the
stitches or go for the fuller figure

Updates....?

Sat, 31 May 2008 21:21:14 GMT

Hold your horses, folks of world.

I haven't forgotten about you. Honestly.

Give me a wee while and I might have some news for you.

"Things are happening", he said mysteriously...

3417 Rides Again

Sun, 18 May 2008 20:49:20 GMT

VEPs look good in blue, you know. I suppose that if one wanted to be strictly accurate (and what self respecting anorak doesn't?) VEPs look good in British Railways Spec 81 Electric Blue. And that's not just my opinion, there seem to be a few people at Swanage who agree with me. And one gentleman in particular, who came up to my driving cab (1) at Harmans Cross, was eager to tell me so. "She looks superb", he enthused. "I've just spoken to three chaps from Glasgow who travelled down here for the weekend and the first thing they said was 'The VEP looks magnificent.' Are you one of the SWT staff?" I told him I was, and then asked him if he could bear with me. I doubled back into the train and found Chris Buckland - the chap who has made 3417 his own in all but name - and asked the anonymous gentleman to tell him what he'd previously told me. Chris's smile was a pleasure to see. Whoever you are, sir, I hope you're reading this. Because you made my gaffer a very very proud man. Taking the old girl out to play is one thing, but knowing that people appreciate the efforts put into making her shine is hairs-on-the-back-of-the-neck stuff.

I've been trying to write this for nearly a week now. And I'm having a hard time of it - I made the mistake of reading the entry from last year. So knowing that I was so enthused last year, how the hell do I top my last effort? Well, I'll have to try, because if Swanage made the effort to top last years event then I have to try and give it the coverage it deserves. Because it was a storming few days. For a start, the SWT boys arrived on their own this time. Well, on their own apart from the GBRf loco that towed us from Bournemouth West. But you understand the principle; none of this "sandwiched 'twixt oil-burning scrap metal" for the Boys From The Park this year, oh no!, it was environmentally friendly electric efficiency for us. So we hummed away from Bournemouth in a symphony of EE507 traction motors. Once again it was almost like a private rail tour. Our own ED, none of these irritating passenger-types who take up space and wear out the seats and the floor (2) and glorious sunshine. Ghosting through Branksome and Parkstone, getting the compulsory dirty looks from the shoppers as we stopped the traffic in Poole and then on at a fuss-free 60mph around Poole Harbour. My god it was glorious. Matt Turner, aka Priscilla Queen of the Depot and a good mate, turned to me at one point during the journey. 60mph was on the clock, blazing sun and a warm breeze blowing through the cab of the VEP. He looked at me, grinned, and said "I love this job." I agreed with him utterly, and told him so. These are the little perks to a fairly unglamorous job; moments like that pay for standing in the pouring rain holding a green bardic lamp for a mainline driver in his warm cab, they pay for every temperamental train, every change of plan, every wrong-road. It's times like that which make me glad I joined the railway, and glad I work with the people that I do. It was magic.

Wareham was a brief stop to pick up Network Rail and Swanage Railway bodies for the short trip to the Furzebrook branch, where we rolled gently past the erstwhile "bloody great 'ole." Thanks to N.R’s quick work it has now been filled with a few hundred tons of ballast; if it weren’t for them none of this could have happened – someone needs to say “well done.” The journey was broken briefly at Corfe Castle, where gleaming VEP & nearly-as-gleaming 73 107 drew favourable glances and comments from the Swanage Railway staff; we arrived at Swanage at somewhere around four o'clock that afternoon. After a small discussion, I was allowed to shunt the train back into the sidings and it was here that I had my first attack of heebie-jeebies. Shunting back across the pointwork is easy: let's face it, shunt moves hold no fear for me since I earn my money doing them. But as we eased back from the platform at Swanage I noticed that the Swanage's ‘08’ shunt loco was a bit close. As we rolled towards it I thought "that's a bit tight". As we rolled past (and I had to pull my head in to avoid braining myself) I thought "that's very tight". As I looked down the train and saw the door handles and grab rails of 3417 threatening to swap paint with the ‘08’ I thought "If this thing gets scratched Buckie is going to kill me." It was a near thing folks - we probably had about 10 inches to spare (I wish I had 10 inches to spare, but that's another story (3)) and I was very aware of my heartbeat as we passed by, but I've done shunts before where you think "we'll never make it" and everything has gone alright. It wasn't just scratching the VEP that worried me. It was scratching the VEP with all those bloody cameras around. (4) But, after a few quick grabs of 15lbs in the brake cylinders for my own peace of mind, we shunted back into the sidings without managing to remove bits from either train and I could relax.

The Friday, Saturday and Sunday were a blur. Between us, by which I mean myself, Buckie, Gwil of Jones, Priscilla and his chums from the Rainbow Railway Staff Association (look it up on Facebook) the VEP was never without someone to accompany her. Why we worried I don't know, since she was barely less that full and standing for most of the weekend. And she coped admirably with the traffic, despite a certain level of anxiety suffered when asking her to work with some of the locos that attended the gala - hint: don't ask a Class 50 to work with a VEP too often, because after a while the VEP makes certain distressing hissing noises from under the motor coach. But she survived these minor traumas unscathed. We all took turns to walk through her, keep her clean, look on professionally whilst the long-suffering Swanage shunters covered themselves in grease on our behalf and make sure the toilets weren't blocked. Honestly, we had to check the karzis as well. You might remember that last year I mentioned that certain brain-doners has bunged up the toilets with loo roll. Well, they were back again this year, and this year they also made it their business to break door hinges and seat handles. It's a good job we had Super Buckland and his bag of tools to call upon. Christ folks, I could bang on all forever about the compliments we received, never mind the comments we heard about the staff at Swanage, the quality of the beer, the weather (can't take credit for that one, but thanks anyway). Everything went along in excellent spirits. But of course, being me, the highlight was getting to drive 3417.

Driving a train for a bunch of enthusiasts. How do you describe that? I suppose it's different from driving a service train - I'll let you know about that in 6 months time. A service train is just that. Nothing special. 9 out of 10 punters don't care what it is, providing its warm, clean and turns up at the right places at the time it states on the timetable. But driving at the gala? Another story entirely. People hanging out of the window, listening to the noise of the engine, taking pictures, taking videos... It's unreal. Perhaps the best way to describe it is to quote my mate Gwil:

"They're all hanging out of the window to listen and watch and you're looking back and making it all happen. All that smoke and noise and speed (25mph; big deal but you get the picture), you're the one doing that. And they appreciate it. It's not a bad feeling."

Of course it's not all fun and games. You have to watch what you're doing - signals mean just the same thing as they do on the Real Railway, so do speed limits, and of course I don't know the road so Swanage provided pilots for their guest drivers. My pilot, the only one of the weekend for the VEP, was called Mark and a very nice chap he was to. Mindful of railway courtesy, I offered him the driving seat as soon as he arrived in the cab, but he kindly allowed me the small pleasure of driving. We left on time, with window-hangers a-plenty and a short fat bloke wearing an SWT drivers jacket and huge grin in control. God, it was fun. One thing I remember from last year is that it never lasts long enough. So next year I'm going to ask if we can work in the Up direction as well and maybe run a little bit further than usual. Like Waterloo. Or possibly Edinburgh. 3417 was, of course, faultless and the run down to Swanage was smooth and without any sort of fuss. I got my 15 Minutes of Glory and everyone who got off at Swanage did so without asking "which ham-fisted muppet was driving that, then?" So I was well pleased. Actually I'm still smiling quietly to myself eight days after the event, so I must have had more fun than I realised.

Of course I wasn’t the only one playing trains. Priscilla, complete with the headboard he paid for and employing more cheek than I have dared use, cabbed every loco and pretty much treated the railway as his own private plaything for the weekend – which seemed fair enough to me. Herr Jones reacquainted himself with the controls of 50 044 – after a gap of 19 years he still knows how to make it go, stop and make lots of smoke and noise: he drove it once, and the grin lasted all day. Buckie of course bathed in compliments about the state of his train, got to walk around looking important (wearing his managers name-badge in case he got lost, of course) and best of all no one mentioned his haircut for minutes at a time. Bless. As I mentioned earlier its weekends like this that pay for the drudge and tedium (yes, even I get narked at work sometimes) and I enjoyed all of it. It was a weekend off from London, a weekend off from work and a weekend away from real life. It was a treat and I enjoyed it as such.

Look folks, I've written about all I can for now. I'm going to revisit this again in a few days and put a bit more sparkle in (possibly more knob gags are required), but in the meantime these are a few sites with Swanage-type picture for you to enjoy. It'll give you a fuller flavour of what was on offer. But do yourselves a favour - stick it on your calendar for next year!

http://www.ukrailpics.com/index.php?cat=8

http://www.southernrailwaypics.co.uk/index_2008.html

http://thewanderersirishrailphotospot.fotopic.net/

http://paulbigland.fotopic.net/

Look for the stuff labelled, unsurprisingly, "Swanage Beer Festival" - all top pictures, you know.

That's it - enough talking about playing trains. I think I'm going to put my feet up, watch something silly and try to forget that a week ago I was in Dorset playing silly buggers with someone else's train set.

But for now, enjoy the snaps and kick yourselves if you weren't there.

(1) "My driving cab" - it's just possible I'll never get tired of writing that...

(2) Yes, I know they pay my salary. Trust me, I'm not ungrateful - most of them are lovely people. It's the scrotes that get on my wick.

(3) Statutory Knob Gag out of the way...

(4) "Harry Potter - The Driver Who Broke The VEP." No thanks. I'm having enough trouble living down the camera incident...

The Smile Still Hasn't Worn Off

Thu, 15 May 2008 18:43:46 GMT

"We Came...

We Saw...

We Drank...

We Worked Push-Pull."

Wimbledon Park On Tour with 3417 - Blog Entry Coming Soon

(as soon, in fact, as I finish night shift and get to sit down for 5 minutes)

4VEP to Swanage

Wed, 07 May 2008 12:02:30 GMT

Folks,

This was going to be headed "a note for hardened anoraks." But then I started to wonder how exactly one would get a hardened anorak. Depending on how the readers mind works, one could speculate that a Hardened Anorak would be some sort of millitary-grade rainwear, 'hardened' meaning amoured in order that one could take snaps of trains whilst exposed to enemy fire. After all there are certain dedicated individuals for whom bullets hold no fear: the photo is everything, I must spot that last elusive loco/unit/wagon/tank/bullet/missile launcher. Perhaps the SAS have an elite battle-hardened enthusiast regiment with blacked-out lunch boxes and stealth notebooks...?

Even as I write this I realise that it's starting to read like an editorial in Loaded magazine or other such soft-core porn and advertising fodder, so I'll stop right now. The other angle I was going to take on "hardened" had to do with things either being stiff through lack of cleaning or crisp due to... well, you can work it out. Anyhow, I'll behave myself and get on with the real reason for this post. It's time to take the VEP to the Seaside, folks! Please find below the running details of the move from Eastleigh to Bournemouth West, and then Bournemouth West to Swanage. Unlike last year there will be two seperate moves - sensible Southern stock runs on its own, and then all the evil oil-burning marine diesels-on-wheels will follow on behind.

Train 0Z73 runs THO 08/05/08 Loco-Hauled 40 miles
Sector 54 (GBrf) Set up by TSDB on 04/05/08 Type STP

Location Booked C Pw Miles Tlod Ctg Pfm Eng Pth Consist
86090 EASTLGHYD 10:47
86087 EASTLEIGH PASS 10:50 2 1
86499 ST DENYS PASS 10:55 2 5
86513 NORTHAMJN PASS 10:57 2 6
86520 STHAMPTON PASS 11:00 2 7
86703 REDBRIDGE PASS 11:04 2 10
86711 TOTTON PASS 11:05 2 11
86901 BROCKNHST PASS 11:19 2 21
86921 BOURNEMTH PASS 11:46 2 36
86927 BRANKSOME 11:53 11:56 0 39
86923 BMWT&RSMD 12:00 7 40

73107 + 4VEP 423 417

Train 5Z73 runs THO 08/05/08 Loco-Hauled 40 miles
Sector 54 (GBrf) Set up by TSDB on 04/05/08 Type STP

Location Booked C Pw Miles Tlod Ctg Pfm Eng Pth Consist
86923 BMWT&RSMD 13:50
86927 BRANKSOME PASS 13:54 2 1
86935 POOLE PASS 14:01 2 4
86964 WAREHAM 14:10 14:12 0 11
86967 FURZBROOK 14:32 7 15

And the rest arrive a little later on...

6672x/ 37275/ 37906/ 20096/ 50044

Train 0Z72 runs THO 08/05/08 Loco-Hauled 207 miles
Sector 54 Sub-sector 02 Set up by TSDB on 04/05/08 Type STP

Location Booked C Pw Miles Tlod Ctg Pfm Eng Pth Consist
65941 KIDDERMSV 09:40
65935 KIDDERMIN PASS 09:50 2 1
65938 BLAKEDOWN PASS 09:54 2 4
65933 STOURBDGJ PASS 09:58 2 8
65930 STRBDGJNS 10:00 10:14 0 8
65923 ROWLEYRGS PASS 10:25 2 13
65908 SMETHWKJN PASS 10:28 2 16
66409 BHAMSNOWH PASS 10:40 2 20
66411 BHAMOORST PASS 10:43 2 21
66421 SMALLH SJ PASS 10:48 2 23
66460 TYSELEY PASS 10:50 2 24
66463 BENTLEY H PASS 11:05 2 31
66433 DORRIDGE PASS 11:06 2 32
66436 HATTON PASS 11:12 2 39
69300 LEAMSPSTN PASS 11:18 2 45
69414 FENNYCOMP PASS 11:30 2 56
69422 BANBURYJN PASS 11:36 2 63
69425 BANBURYNH 11:41 12:30 0 64
69424 BANBURY PASS 12:33 2 65
69440 AYNHO JN PASS 12:41 2 70
74609 HEYFORD PASS 12:47 2 76
74449 WOLVECOTJ PASS 12:54 2 85
74447 OXFORDNNJ 12:56 13:03 0 87
74446 OXFORD PASS 13:05 2 88
74439 HINKSEYYD PASS 13:09 2 89
74438 KNNGTN JN PASS 13:11 2 90
74322 DIDCOT NJ PASS 13:19 2 97
74320 DIDCOT EJ PASS 13:20 2 98
74260 READINGWJ PASS 13:37 2 113
74250 READWTORJ 13:39 13:53 0 114
74265 SOUTHCOTJ PASS 13:55 2 115
86061 BRAMLEY PASS 14:07 2 124
86066 BASINSTOK PASS 14:13 2 129
86069 WORTINGJN 14:17 14:22 0 132
86083 WINCHESTR PASS 14:41 2 148
86084 SHAWFORD PASS 14:44 2 151
86087 EASTLEIGH PASS 14:48 2 155
86499 ST DENYS PASS 14:53 2 159
86513 NORTHAMJN 14:55 15:02 0 160
86520 STHAMPTON PASS 15:05 2 161
86703 REDBRIDGE PASS 15:09 2 164
86711 TOTTON PASS 15:10 2 165
86901 BROCKNHST PASS 15:21 2 175
86921 BOURNEMTH PASS 15:47 2 190
86927 BRANKSOME PASS 15:52 2 193
86935 POOLE PASS 16:01 2 196
86964 WAREHAM 16:10 16:12 0 203
86967 FURZBROOK 16:32 7 207

So there we are. All systems go, it would seem. If any of you poor twisted Potter-readers do make it to sunny Dorset this weekend then please do feel free to say hello, offer your commiserations or advice for medication. All such courtesy will be gratefully recieved.

See you down there!

Peace!

They ARE Mad....

Mon, 28 Apr 2008 20:00:30 GMT

Once upon a time, back when this Blog was funny and I wasn't worried about writing large amounts of knob gags (in other words before I knew that both my mother and managing director read it), I questioned the sanity of those at South West Trains. You might remember - they were offering me the chance to drive trains on the mainline. Well, that was then and this is now. Now I know better than to question their sanity, and for two reasons: firstly, because South West Trains has been replaced by South Western Trains. And secondly because, whatever the company name, I have finally gained irrefutable proof that they've all lost their marbles.

Yes folks, it's time to stop travelling by train. I'm to be a mainline driver.

(THINKS: Even as I write this I can hear hundreds of people thinking "I wonder if there's another way to get to London apart from Waterloo...?")

I've had the interview, and passed it. Remember the last one, loyal readers? Yes - of course you do. Because Potter opened his gaping trap and shoved both size eights into it up to the knees. But not this time! Oh no, folks! Potter has finally learned that keeping ones Big Yap shut is a good idea. So much positive chat was had, and frankly the two people who took the interview couldn't have been better. I perform far better when I'm at my ease. They were friendly, I opened up and the interview coasted by. Some kind soul had warned me that role-play was going to form the other part of the assessment day. I was quite pleased about that. I turned up in my best doctors outfit, carrying a large medical bag and the HUGE syringe only to be told that "No, Mr Upton, Doctors and Nurses isn't quite what we meant."

Bugger.

Thinking back it's probably a good job I didn't open the bag while I was there. The doctors outfit nearly got me thrown out of the building: I fear that the black latex gimp suit and Selection of Rubber Implements For the Discerning Customer would have resulted in being throw out of the building from the fifth floor*. Anyhow, the role-play went very well (despite the lack of latex) and thus I finished the day feeling fairly pleased with myself. The journey home offered time to reflect on the day, and I felt that I'd given of my best (even without the latex). The telephone call from the Recruitment Department, taken on the following morning by a Potter who had been awake for the sum total of the time it had taken to wake up and find the mobile, was glorious. "Well, Steve, we'd like to offer you the job." Magic. After the nightmare that the first interview attempt had been, I honestly thought "if it doesn't happen this time then it's not going to happen at all." The relief, and the sense of achievement, were immense.

Of course that wasn't the end of things. Today was spent attending my medical. One of the niggling conditions of the job is that I shouldn't die whilst on the footplate, and whilst passengers are happy for drivers to wear blue if the driver actually goes blue then they get nervous. So I underwent an hour of various pokes, prods and other tests (still no latex) at the hands of a very pleasant nurse named Eileen. Thanks to expert medical opinion, I can now tell you all that I am "cuddly", alive and in possession of working ears, eyes and heart and "not dead yet." Oh, and they asked me to pee into a cup.

Now I scored on two fronts here:

Firstly, I didn't manage to pee all over my hand, my trousers, the toilet rim, the wall or any of the other things than men seem to be able to hit when told where to aim. This is a big deal and women everywhere, not that many of them read this, should take heart. It can be done - make sure the target is less than half an inch away from his dick and your chap will be able to hit it every time!

Secondly, I was able to pee on demand. I hate having pee tests; I've always either had nothing to drink of the past 12 hours and nearly end up passing one of my own kidneys through straining to produce urine, or worse yet I've drunk x-gallons of water and none of it has filtered through until half an hour after I've left the toilet.

But not today. Today, my friends, everything from my arrival to my departure went exactly to plan. And my bladder was utterly co-operative.

So, that's it. The tale of Potters Protracted Pursuit of Promotion** is done.

October is the month mentioned in despatches for the start of training. I'm not under any illusions as to how much work is involved. All sunny "isn't this fun" wibblings aside, it's going to be tough. Going back to school is no joke. I'm not guaranteed to pass, nor yet to have a job to fall-back on if I fail. I have places I want to go within the company, and that is going to require concerted effort. So the way to make that happen is not to fail. Between now and October, aside from a certain amount of silly fun at Swanage and weekends away with my good lady and various chums, it's going to be work as hard as possible to make the money while I can. The mucking about has to take a back seat. Hard work is just around the corner.

* Added to which is the thought that me wearing a black latex gimp suit would give the same overall appearance as a vacuum-wrapped walrus. With glasses.

** Who said the English degree was wasted?

Humphrey Lyttelton 1921 - 2008

Sat, 26 Apr 2008 09:16:42 GMT

I would be remiss if I didn't pay tribute to Humph, one of four men who have given me some of the longest and loudest laughs of my life. I didn't know him as a jazz musician - jazz has never been a great love of mine - but I knew and adored him as the chairman of "the antidote to panel games", I'm Sorry I Haven't A Clue. I have never heard anyone who could deliver a line loaded with innuendo with such innocence. His exploits with the lovely Samantha (smashing girl: a great bee keeper - and you wouldn't believe her 38 bees) were the stuff of legend, although, bless him, Humph never quite understood the fuss. The laughter following such lines as "Samantha has got to go now as she's meeting her Italian gentleman friend who's taking her out for an ice cream. She says she likes to spend the evening licking the nuts off a large Neapolitan" was a joy to listen to.

So what else is there to say?

Not a lot, folks. Buy The Times if you want a decent tribute to the great man. I just wanted to say "Cheers Humph."

I'm going to go now. Samantha is at a loose end, so we're going to go and browse around some second hand record shops. She likes nothing more than to peruse old records and she particularly enjoys a rewarding poke in the country section.

PS:

A joke that made me laugh so much I cried.

Q: "How do you catch squirrels?"

A: "Have a one-night stand with a hollow tree."

SWANAGE RAILWAY BEER FESTIVAL ANNOUNCEMENT

Fri, 11 Apr 2008 17:29:39 GMT

STOP PRESS ANNOUNCEMENT

(EVEN THOUGH I DON'T ACTUALLY HAVE A PRESS TO STOP)

Having just spoken to one of the organisers of the Swanage Railway Beer Festival I can officially confirm that today Network Rail cleared the Swanage Branch for rolling stock transfers - in English, this means that 3417, the EDs and all the other toys will be at Swanage for the three days as planned.

This breaking story was brought to you by a Fat Shunt Driver Who Can't Find His Camera.

Don't forget to watch out for the first airing of the official Wimbledon Park Headboard

"Made by craftsmen, driven by hooligans"

Terminal Cock-Ups

Wed, 09 Apr 2008 17:42:51 GMT

It's been a great week or so if you're a cynical bugger. It's been an even better one if you're a cynical bastard but since those of a delicate disposition read this (and they buy me birthday and Christmas presents) I'm not about to admit to such things on here. I've not often thought "I'm glad I'm not in charge of the BAA." To be fair, I've never thought "Gosh, I wish I was in charge of the BAA" either. In terms of the mindset required, Potter would rather be in charge of, say, a 12VEP fast to Bournemouth with 90mph+ on the clock. Or he'd like to have a piece of paper marked "bank balance" with more than 9 figures in it written in black and his name at the top. So ordinarily, I'd rather be doing just about anything other than running several airports. But, folks, this week especially the BAA is not a place I'd like to be working. From what I can see, the Daily Mail/Express/Scum-Gutter-Toilet-Rag-Of-Your-Choice have managed to get their "We Hate the Railway" and their "We Love Airlines" fuses muddled up, and it's all down to that gargantuan glass monstrosity called Terminal Five.

Almost every newspaper article and television feature has been critical of it; although in fairness managing to lose eleventy-million bags in a week probably constitute some sort of a record. And it all started so well. Nigel Rudd, BAAs chairman, was full of happy sound bites when the place was opened:

"Terminal Five marks the start of a new beginning for Heathrow, for BAA and for our millions of passengers. It is by any standard a triumph of ambition, commitment and collaboration. It will breathe new life into Heathrow, allowing us to continue our transformation of the rest of the airport and will put Heathrow and BAA back where they belong - at the leading edge of global travel." I fully expect to see poor Nigel nominated for the 2008 "Bet You Wish You'd Kept Your Gob Shut" Award. Mind you his counterpart at British Airways, Willie Walsh, must also be wishing all those journo’s had been looking the other way when he was espousing the virtue of the new building. "Terminal Five is a fantastic facility and our customers will really enjoy the space, comfort and convenience it offers. With the opening of T5, BA and BAA have an opportunity to make air travel, both into and out of the UK, once again a calmer and much more enjoyable experience." Hear, hear Willie! Well said. What good luck it's such a spacious and comfortable building, that way when the passengers are sleeping in their cardboard boxes overnight at least they'll have plenty of room to stretch out. And we wouldn’t want your fare paying passengers uncomfortable, would we?

Oh, by the way, chaps - if you're looking for 'a triumph of ambition, commitment and collaboration' you need to get a taxi to St. Pancras International. It's notable for many reasons, not least the lack of passengers sleeping in cardboard boxes. But the best bit about St. Pancras, the best bit of all, is that it doesn't eat luggage or stop when it bloody snows. Whereas Terminal Five is what happens when you get a greenhouse drunk and then let it shag a B&Q warehouse.

Oh yes, the snow. I knew there was something else for me to wave my finger righteously about. Snow. It's a well known non-fact that "everything stops when it snows." Well, that's odd. I made a point of checking the mass media for signs of the railway stopping, or the roads. In fact, from what I could see, the only part of the country that didn't work properly when it snowed was Heathrow airport. (Oh, and in case you missed it last it doesn't work in fog either - 2-0 to St Pancras) But fortunately our enlightened government, you know, the venal pocket-liners with the John Lewis accounts, are pushing ahead with their sustainable transport policy by digging up more villages around Heathrow and Stanstead and incidentally squeezing the railway industry of every penny and creaming road tax to pay for - well, new sofas and coffee tables I suppose. All this whilst Greengauge 21, Atkins and Network Rail are waving studies under the DfTs nose saying "look how much high speed rail could be worth to the country." And if you were wondering, that could be in excess of £60 billion against a build cost of approximately £30 billion. £60 billion. Sneak up beside Alistair Darling and whisper "£60 billion" in his ear and he'd fired his own underwear across the room in excitement - and he wouldn't even have to remove his trousers first. £60 billion. That's enough to buy 13 Terminal Five's and have enough change left-over to pay for the all the vans to carry lost luggage to its respective owners. So there you go, folks. Britain can cope with snow and what's more it provides a wonderful argument as to why Britain should be trying to catch up with the rest of Europe.

And failing everything else it’s given me another chance to poke fun at Terminal Fun.

Right - enough of that, onto matters of a more parochial nature. I'm sorry to report that the Swanage Railway Beer Festival may not go ahead in the form that some of you may have hoped for. That is to say, it may not go ahead in the form that I had hoped for. Put another way, there's a chance that 3417 might not attend. It's nothing to do with her being either unwanted or broken. In the first instance Buckie has taken his obsession with all things VEP to new heights (when it was snowing he was seen by persons unnamed wrapping the buffers in blankets and asking "if Daddies favourite little slammer was cold" - I worry about that boy) and in the second instance my compatriots at Wimbledon Park continue to do sterling work ensuring the old lady is kept clean, dry and rust-free. It is in fact down to the track. Namely a short stretch of track at a place called Furzebrook in Dorset which currently has what has been described to me by a friend who works for Network Rail as "a bloody great big 'ole in it, Harry." Bugger. Well, not on the track so much as next to the track we'd like to be running over and as you may be aware trains tend to react badly to socking great holes opening up in the track. Network Rail are at this moment (this very moment, folks - such topicality) pontificating as to whether to allow trains to run past said bloody great 'ole: I am told that all may not be lost, since there are ways around such problems provided the hole doesn't get any bigger. So if you're reading this, Hole, (everyone is on the Net these days) kindly stay the same size that you are now because I'm looking forward to my weekend at the seaside. I've also paid a deposit for the B&B, so be good and don't get any bigger.

IT'S SNOWING IN LONDON

Sun, 06 Apr 2008 10:19:12 GMT

Note from Lardy Site Owner:

If anyone wants me, I'm outside playing snowballs....

"It's in Harry's Garage...."

Mon, 31 Mar 2008 14:37:58 GMT

The title for this latest and slightly delayed blog entry is the current stock answer for Wimbledon Park depot staff upon the discovery that something has been mislaid. Thus:

"Here, Ginger. Where's my (pen, that bit of paper, my lunch, my coat, my sanity, my wife, my camera etc:) gone?"

"It's in Harry's garage."

For those of you who are unfamiliar with the world of constant mickey-taking that is the railway, I faithfully promise you that this is the case. Oh, and I can't tell you how much I'm not laughing about it. Tears of mirth are routinely failing to run down my cheeks as I forget to make my sides ache with laughter. Tee-bloody-hee. Whilst I know that writing this is going to make me feel better about things, I am also very much aware that it will merely add grist to the mill. Stuff it - this is about my catharsis, and given the attention spans that I work with they'll have forgotten about it all my the time I go back to work on Friday.

So, apart from enduring references to cameras and their unexpected discovery in garages, life rumbles on much as normal. I have been assured that I have an upcoming interview for a mainline drivers job (I fully expect to be asked about proper camera storage and security arrangements), the Swanage Railway Beer Festival looms large in my calendar and the clocks have gone backwards by an hour. So my last night shift was shorter by a whole 60 mnutes! Sod everything else, I managed to legitimately get 60 minutes off've my working day! Oh, the joy of finding ones self with an 8 hour shift rather than 9 hours! Of course the joy was slightly blunted by this all happening on a Sunday. So there were no tube trains. And, purely out of spite, Network Rail made sure there were no trains from Wimbledon. And with even more spite God made sure it bloody well rained on me all the way home. But I don't care. I still got my hour!*

While I'm thinking about Swanage and all things beer-powered, I would like to raise several points. Firstly Priscilla (long story, and not one I can tell without his permission) is making a headboard for 3417, so the Wimbledon Park Mafia will be advertising this year. If the headboard doesn't make it into a magazine I for one will be very upset. And Priscilla might cry, bless 'im. The second point is that there is currently a bloody great hole in the Swanage branch. A bloody great big hole, with extra emphasis on the "bloody" and "big." Now as enthusiastic as I am to go to Swanage, and as much as I'm looking forward to taking the Big (very) Blue Thing with Doors out to play again, there is no way I'm prepared to go potholing in order to do it. "Bugger that", thought Potter. "Ropes, crampons and a VEP. Not sodding likely." Joking aside this is a big worry - a hole in the track bed could put the skids under the whole event. I shall of course be keeping a close eye on proceedings and will keep you all informed.

I see that the High Speed Rail debate is once again slowly raising its head. More consultancy work, more weight behind the "it would free up capacity on other lines, take traffic from airlines and motorways and be all-but carbon neutral" argument. One wonders when, if ever, this will ever be built? One line through to Liverpool via Birmingham, one to Glasgow via Manchester and one Edinburgh via Newcastle. I know one thing - very soon we'll have spent more money on bloody consultants that it would take to build the bloody railway itself (slight overstatement). With the debacle of Heathrow Terminal 5, and the utterly smooth running on High Speed One (it runs so well the press appear to have forgotten about it) one wonders how long it will be before central government decide that enough is enough and look at ways to really encourage sustainable transport. Picture an electrically powered railway speeding hundreds of people city centre to city centre, day in, day out. Hang on - that sounds familiar... Oh yes, the French have been doing it for 30-odd years. Perhaps the Entente Cordiale could stretch to us Brits saying "TGV? Better than low-cost airlines? And it makes money? And it's a national asset owned and operated by and for the nation? What a marvellous idea. We'll have some of that, thanks."

One more thing - my apologies for the lack of camera work of late. As you can imagine, the subject of Potter and Cameras is not a popular one amongst the upper ranks of managament at the moment. So picture-taking equipment is not being taken into work for the foreseable future: which means I'm having to try and make time to go out snappping pictures between doing shopping, washing and all the other boring domestic stuff that is required to maintain a Life. So whilst the updates will be thinner on the ground, they will be on the way. Stay tuned!

Well, that's the lot. Time to go.

Peace, y'all.

* - Yes, I know that they'll get the hour back in October. I know. But October is a long way away. Let me have my moment of fun, you bunch of killjoys.

Why Potter and Nighshifts Don't Mix.....

Mon, 17 Mar 2008 14:57:38 GMT

Because he gets tired and thinks he'd had his camera stolen, that's why.

And then after alerting the depot management, asking his mates on early turn to have a look and see if they can find it, having a long serious-type conversation with his depot manager (thank you, Kate - I owe you), reporting the theft to the British Transport Police, having his ear chewed off by his girlfriend and parents for not having insured the bloody thing, having his landlady and parents offer him money to buy a replacement ("and you can pay it back when you can, don't worry about it"), having had one of my mates ring up and offer me the loan of one of his cameras - after all that, after causing all that trouble, like a Fecking idiot I find the bloody camera in the garage.

Where I'd left it the night before when I re-packed my work bag.

Oh God. Even now I want the bloody ground to swallow me. I know that no matter what I do, and besides saying a very humble "sorry" and "thank you" to everyone involved there's not much I can do, this is going to follow me around until I retire. As some of your observant souls may have noticed already, one of my dear colleagues has left an encouraging note on my guestbook promising that everyone and their uncle will know just exactly how big a muppet Potter is. I looked in the garage twice, twice, before I rang the depot management. What the hell was I doing?! How the bloody hell do you miss seeing a camera twice? I might as well have not bothered looking. And as to when I finally found the bloody thing. God, I almost (almost) wish the thing had been stolen. Because if you think that believing someone has gone through your bag is bad, then realising that the only one who has been a moron is you is far, far worse.

I'm telling you, folks, it's made me realise three things with crystal clarity:

1. Potter and night shifts don't mix. I'm going to have to change the way I do things so that I get better rest. If anyone has any advice I'll be happy to listen to it, because at the moment I'm obviously not doing things properly.

2. My friends and family are staggeringly tolerant of what an idiot I can be. I can only assuming that they either care about me very much, or have a hitherto unheard-of tolerance for individuals who are total idiots. Since I've known them for a while, I'm aware that they bridge both categories.

3. I am very, very lucky to be working at Wimbledon. The calibre of the support, the immediate "what can we do to help?" reaction from everyone involved speaks volumes for the quality of the staff. And some of those people are also my friends and therefore come under Heading 2 as well. I am humbled by their support. Thanks, folks.

4. The British Transport Police have a sense of humour. How do I know that? Well, if you could have heard the laughter from the operator as I was telling him why I needed him to cancel the crime report I'd made four hours earlier, you'd understand as well.

So folks, there you are. I am now the world record holder for the Eating of Humble Pie. On Wednesday I will be crawling over my depot managers’ office floor and begging forgiveness, and on Wednesday afternoon I fully expect to find myself swinging by my ankles from one of the lighting towers.

What an idiot. Perhaps a few boxes of chocolates and further portions of humble pie will help? I doubt it - I've been getting texts all weekend from various parties. Allow me to share a few with you:

"Hello Harry. The KGB has been on the phone asking about this invisible camera you've got..."

"Got your camera, mate?"

"Hello, this is the Alzheimer’s Society. We'd like to welcome you to the club, but we can't remember who you are or where your camera is."

It's only going to get worse, folks. And I have to say I think I deserve it. So, in conclusion:

Thank you - Ginger, Pete Clarke & the early turn shunt drivers, Kate, Young Priscilla, Ariel, Paula, the British Transport Police*, Mum & Dad, Snapper and everyone else who turned Wimbledon Park Depot upside-down looking for the phantom camera.