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Discussion in 'Personal' started by doomzebra, Apr 16, 2011.
<ol>[*]Deltic[*]Class 44 Peaks[*]Class 66[*]HS Kestrel[*]Class 20</ol>
I always had a thing for 'Diesel' (the grumpy one) from Thomas the Tank Engine.
And then there is this one...
I would have to say Class 33, though I know what you mean about the Deltic
But being a Doncaster Lass the Classes 56 and 58 have a special place in my heart
im a steam engine man myself lol
mallard class so sexy
and 'city of'' class cant think of thier name
Also like the hst of earlirt days
dear i havent spotted trains since i was a spotty young boy hanging around the end of liverpool lime street station platform!
That was you? I think I owe you an apology and an explanation.
aren't we all (woman in my case)
My spotting was mainly based around EMUs in the late 70s and early 80s TBH
I never meet any girls spotting when i was a boy....mind you it was a very long time ago. now they wouldnt even let you on the platform
Ah the days of a platform ticket, a bottle of pop,sandwiches and a notebook withw spotters guide! lol
There were not many girls as you say ... an added attraction tbh
in my day and age we didnt discover women till we were 14........unless they played football and could leap off walls.. yo have to remember i was an innocent...stil am actually
now days i am one of the many men who like to admire the shape and ride when we can!
My favorite kettle
actually i also like steam engines of the raod type as well.....fred dinah is to blame for that!
Sexy diesel you say....
Sorry to get all steamy but this one does it for me
such power !
what great sight......i would be the one hanging out of the window in days of old lol
The smell does it for me. Must be cos I was put in my pram in the guards van !
This is the Night Mail crossing the border,
Bringing the cheque and the postal order,
Letters for the rich, letters for the poor,
The shop at the corner and the girl next door.
Pulling up Beattock, a steady climb:
The gradient's against her, but she's on time.
Past cotton-grass and moorland boulder
Shovelling white steam over her shoulder,
Snorting noisily as she passes
Silent miles of wind-bent grasses.
Birds turn their heads as she approaches,
Stare from the bushes at her blank-faced coaches.
Sheep-dogs cannot turn her course;
They slumber on with paws across.
In the farm she passes no one wakes,
But a jug in the bedroom gently shakes.
Dawn freshens, the climb is done.
Down towards Glasgow she descends
Towards the steam tugs yelping down the glade of cranes,
Towards the fields of apparatus, the furnaces
Set on the dark plain like gigantic chessmen.
All Scotland waits for her:
In the dark glens, beside the pale-green sea lochs
Men long for news.
Letters of thanks, letters from banks,
Letters of joy from the girl and the boy,
Receipted bills and invitations
To inspect new stock or visit relations,
And applications for situations
And timid lovers' declarations
And gossip, gossip from all the nations,
News circumstantial, news financial,
Letters with holiday snaps to enlarge in,
Letters with faces scrawled in the margin,
Letters from uncles, cousins, and aunts,
Letters to Scotland from the South of France,
Letters of condolence to Highlands and Lowlands
Notes from overseas to Hebrides
Written on paper of every hue,
The pink, the violet, the white and the blue,
The chatty, the catty, the boring, adoring,
The cold and official and the heart's outpouring,
Clever, stupid, short and long,
The typed and the printed and the spelt all wrong.
Thousands are still asleep
Dreaming of terrifying monsters,
Or of friendly tea beside the band at Cranston's or Crawford's:
Asleep in working Glasgow, asleep in well-set Edinburgh,
Asleep in granite Aberdeen,
They continue their dreams,
And shall wake soon and long for letters,
And none will hear the postman's knock
Without a quickening of the heart,
For who can bear to feel himself forgotten?
Having, to my shame, raised a train spotter, I can tell you that standing on platforms to spot is still allowed. In fact, today we made the 90 mile journey over to Doncaster so Son No1 could spend hours stood on platform with video and SLR cameras.
I spent several hours perusing the shops whilst he got on with it!
He says best Diesels are
I remember the conversation with his form tutor about how most 13 year olds are down loading **** form the internet, but mine is uploading montages of diesel trains sounding their horns!! He's 16 now and still going spotting strong!
Firstborn zebra is also train-mad!
I love that poem DZ
I got a train set when I was about 13 - I had a bo-bo diesel and an intercity 125.
To please Oldsomeman though, I had a Mallard steam engine, and the coaches to match.
I still have it somewhere.
My eldest daughter loved trains. Her first train set was a little wooden one, where you pushed the train arund, and then she had a little Thomas The Tank one, with tracks and a little controller.
Then she got a hornby one, but she had gone off trains by that stage a little, and spent hours parking cars in the station carp aprk instead
I am sure we still have that somewhere too. I cannot remember what type of train she got with it though :s
My dad is, to my eternal (outward) shame, a spotter. Luckily for me, he also restores steam engines... which has a little more credibility (or so I like to think!) The smells of my childhood are Welsh steam coal and grease... and I could drive a loco before I could drive a car. Gorgeous things.