Crewe Station 'A', Crewe Station 'B' and Crewe No. 3 were fascinating signal boxes because they were within the station itself, controlling the crossovers in the middle of the long, main platforms. Two trains could use a single platform, arriving and departing independently by using the crossovers which connected with the adjacent 'Through' line. Back in the '50s when I first visited Crewe, many trains split or combined at Crewe and restaurant cars were frequently added or removed, so there was always plenty of activity.
Crewe Station 'A' was halfway along platform 1. Thankfully, when it was abolished, it was carefully taken down and re-erected, with the lever frame and block shelf, in Crewe Heritage Centre. It was of 'composite' construction with a brick base (using bricks matching those used in the station buildings) and wooden-framed windows of standard L&NWR pattern on the operating floor. Unusually, it was flat-roofed, as it was situated beneath the station overall roof.
Crewe Station 'B' was halfway along platform 2 and had a similar design to Crewe Station 'A' Box.
Crewe No. 3 was elevated on a 'bridge', set above the Up Through and at right angles to the running lines. It was outside the overall roof, so had the usual gabled roof.
The boxes formed part of the Crewe remodelling which took place between 1896 and 1907 and all used the 'Crewe' All-Electric System, with miniature lever frames of the type shown in the picture above. The L.M.S. replaced the original electric semaphore signals with colour lights and British Rail introduced B.R. Standard Block Instruments but the boxes remained recognisably L&NWR until they were abolished.
References:
For more detailed layouts of Crewe Station in the 1950s, refer to the Signalling Record Society publication 'British Railways Layout Plans of the 1950's Volume 1: ex-LNWR main line, Euston to Crewe' (ISBN: 1 873228 00 7).
In Part 1 of this story, I described the preparation of Peak Rail's 0-6-0T WD150 'Royal Pioneer' (Pictures) for a typical day's work.
Once preparation is complete, the first two hours in traffic, from 8.30 a.m. to 10.30 a.m., are generally devoted to Driving Experience Courses, described below.
Driving Experience Courses (also marketed under various similar names) allow an unqualified person to enjoy the experience of handling a steam locomotive under the supervision of a qualified driver. The idea really 'took off' in 1992 when Birmingam Railway Museum introduced courses which included driving a 'Castle' class locomotive on the short Demonstration Line. These proved so popular that other preserved railways started to offer similar opportunities. I was involved in the Birmingam Railway Museum courses for a number of years and I recently made a return visit during the 'Tyseley 100' celebrations. I've subsquently been 'Instructor Driver' at the Battlefield Line, the West Somerset Railway and, latterly, at Peak Rail. This has involved many different locomotives, varying from the diminuitive Peckett saddle tank 'Kilmersdon' to the world-famous 'Flying Scotsman'.
The usual format for the Driving Experience at Peak Rail is where the Trainee joins the qualified driver and fireman on the footplate for either one or two hours. During that period, the Trainee drives and, if they wish, fires a light engine, under supervision, on a number of return trips between Darley Dale and Matlock Riverside. Candidates must be adults and they are mainly men but we are always delighted to welcome ladies. Reasonable physical health is desirable but the demands are not too onerous - the worst part is perhaps climbing onto the footplate from ground level. Trainees' backgrounds vary widely, from committed lifelong steam enthusiast to just a general interest. Some trainees are fascinated by the art of firing, some only want to drive. Some trainees want a lot of technical explanation, others like swapping anecdotes. As far as possible, we try to adapt each course to the individual trainee's preferences. I've tried to give a general flavour of a typical course below.
"Am I in the right place?" asks a man, already in overalls, as I cross the road between the loco yard and Darley Dale station around 8.20 a.m. Introductions are made. The trainee is accompanied by his wife and the experience is a present from his family to celebrate his 60th birthday. Whilst we're chatting, the official Peak Rail 'Meeter and Greeter' arrives, loans suitable Personal Protective Equipment to the trainee, issues the Train Staff (which will allow the locomotive to run on the single line from Darley Dale to Matlock) and looks after the trainee's wife. By the time we're back at the locomotive, the fireman is ready to leave so further introductions are made when the trainee has clambered onto the footplate. A footplate is a dangerous place, so warnings are issued about the various risks - burns, scalds, slips, trips and falls. There can be a lot of coal dust blowing around so eye protection is available. Like most of our trainees, today's visitor has a general interest in railways and has long harboured an ambition to drive a steam locomotive.
When suddenly presented with the mass of controls within the cab and the heat and smells of the footplate, the prospect of driving can seem a little daunting, but we try to simplify the process. "Let me move the engine onto our running line while you watch, then I'll explain the driving controls and you can take over. I'll be right behind you all the time". First movement of the day is always important. During preparation, the driver will have thoroughly examined the locomotive but movement will offer a host of further clues as to the condition of the engine. Every noise needs to be identified and each wisp of steam analysed to satisfy the driver that the engine is in a suitable condition for the work to be done. We slowly move towards the points giving access to the running line, where a set of trap points, currently in the 'throw-off' position, are set to deposit the locomotive 'in the dirt' if we fail to stop. Having explained this to the trainee, I usually add "so we'd better see if we've got a brake" as I make an initial application of the steam brake. At this stage, the fireman has not always obtained full boiler pressure - not a problem as long as the driver allows for the resulting reduced brake force. Having stopped just short of the traps, the fireman climbs down with the Train Staff which will unlock the ground frame, allowing the running line turnout and the traps to be set so as to allow the locomotive to leave the yard.
Once the fireman signals that he's set the road, I visually check the position of the points, then move the engine forwards onto the running line just clear of the points. Then I wait for the fireman to restore the points and signal that he has retrieved the Train Staff, before setting the engine back level with the ground frame, to save the fireman a walk. When the fireman is back on the footplate, with the single line staff, the trainee is ushered into the space between the right hand cab sheet and the reverser. "Right, now it's your turn. There are three driving controls you have to worry about to start with - reverser, regulator and brake. The other bits and pieces we'll introduce later".
"This lever is the reverser. Standing straight up is called 'Mid-Gear'. You shouldn't really call it 'Neutral', because the way valve gear on a locomotive works isn't like a gearbox on a car. Push the lever forward to go forwards, pull it back to go backwards". I demonstrate and make sure the trainee is happy. We always start in 'Full Gear' to generate maximum torque. This is because we may have stopped with either cylinder on 'dead centre', in which case the initial movement relies upon the other cylinder. 'Full Gear' helps to ensure that the locomotive does not get stuck. Once in motion I'll get the trainee to 'Link-Up' by adjusting the reverser to cut the steam off earlier in the piston's stroke.
"This L-shaped handle is the regulator, which allows steam out of the boiler into the steam chest to make the engine go. The handle moves in an arc so as to rotate the regulator rod which passes through the boiler and works the actual regulator valve mounted in the dome up there on top of the boiler. As you move the regulator, first you take up the slack in the system, then it gets a bit hard to move because you're trying to slide a flat regulator valve across a port face against the steam pressure holding the valve pressed against the port face. You may find it easier to control if you use both hands. You should avoid pushing hard and getting a wide regulator opening as this'll make the engine take off like a jackrabbit, which wouldn't be very comfortable for any of us. It's worth taking your time and just going nudge - nudge - nudge. Make tiny movements until you find the point where you hear steam start to flow. Then, nudge a little further until you hear a 'click' from the front of the engine as the steam valves 'seat' and that's enough to move the engine away. Once the engine starts to move, wait and see what effect your regulator opening produces then, if necessary, make another small adjustment. It sounds a bit long-winded but you'll soon get the feel of it and, this way, you'll make a gentle, professional start. Now, although you should always be very gentle opening a regulator, shutting it prior to stopping is just the reverse. Once the regulator valve is opened, the effect of steam on the valve is to prevent the valve from shutting properly. So don't mess about - bang the regulator shut very firmly and make sure the regulator handle is firmly against the stop at the end of the Regulator Quadrant. That way, you know the steam supply is cut off".
"This little handle, with the ratchet, is used to apply the steam brake to stop the engine. Even without a train, this engine weighs around 50 tons when full of coal and water. That's more than a juggernaut going down the motorway. When you shut off steam, the engine usually keeps on rolling, so the most important control is the Brake. A vacuum brake system has been fitted, so that we can work passenger trains, but for non-passenger work, the locomotive itself has a graduable steam brake. You'll be using the steam brake. Move the little handle towards you and steam is admitted to the brake cylinder under the cab. The steam forces a piston down the cylinder and a piston rod (connected to the piston) actuates the brakes. If you keep your finger curled round the brake trigger, you can release the brake, run on a bit, and brake again, slowing down nice and gently. Once you've stopped, letting go of the trigger lets the pawl engage on the ratchet so as to keep the brake applied, preventing further movement. To release the brake, squeeze the trigger and push the handle away from you." Depending upon the trainee and their level of interest, I'll probably talk a lot more about braking.
Now it's time for the trainee to move the engine so, as well as the functional instruction, we talk a bit about operational requirements to make things safe. "First, decide which way you're going and put the reverser in the proper position. Before you release the brake and think about moving, you need to be sure it's safe to move, so lean out and have a good look round the engine. You can't see the other side of the engine, so the fireman will check that side and let you know it's clear. Finally, we'll give a little whistle to warn anybody who's out there, but we can't yet see, that we're about to move". Having gone through this procedure, the trainee releases the brake and carefully opens the regulator. They're often surprised at just how much effort is required to move the regulator handle but the engine is soon moving and gently accelerates without further adjustment of the regulator. "It's 'Be kind to Firemen Week', so we're going to move the reverser back towards mid-gear a couple of notches to use the steam more efficiently". Once this is achieved, I explain how the 'Linking-Up' they've just accomplished will use less steam, because the cut-off of Live Steam now occurs earlier in the piston's travel, allowing the steam to be 'expanded' (extracting more useful work) before being exhausted through the chimney. This will use less water, less coal and consequently make the fireman's job a little easier. Then, I briefly explain the role of the Cylinder Drain Cocks, in making sure that condensate is purged from the cylinders on starting away and the trainee closes the cocks and concentrates on keeping a good lookout. We comply with the various 'Whistle' boards on the way to Matlock, and carefully observe the associated crossings.
After a few minutes, we're making our approach to Matlock Riverside and the trainee has an opportunity to practice the use of the steam brake to make a gentle, controlled stop in the platform.
The rest of the time proceeds in a similar way, trundling between Matlock and Darley Dale. Sometimes we take the run-round loop at Matlock to give extra practice stopping, with an opportunity to examine (and operate) the Ground Frame. Sometimes we discuss the design of the locomotive. As I explained at the beginning, we try to give each trainee the best possible experience. Sadly, what we can't do is overrun on time. Either there's another driving trainee waiting to get on the footplate, or we've to make sure there's sufficient coal in the bunker for the rest of the day, enough water for the time being and it's time to get onto the coaching stock for the first scheduled train. In the steam heating season, we need to be coupled-up well ahead of departure time to get the carriage warming started.
Where possible, we offer the trainee a footplate ride on a passenger train. They're often surprised at just how busy both driver and fireman are once we're in traffic, rather than pottering about light engine!
The Mutual Improvement Classes of the old steam railways continue for today's preservation volunteers. This is one of a series of posts from notes of talks given by Jan. To find them all, select label 'MIC'.
When is a train not a train?
When it hasn't got a tail lamp.
On the running line, the red tail lamp is important to signify that a train is complete. Even in day time, it indicates clearly the last vehicle.
Some overseas railways hang a distinctive marker board on the last vehicle - often red marked 'LV'. In India I've seen red flags pressed into use but the nicest Last Vehicle marker I spotted was a spray of purple/red flowers! In Myanmar, they paint the 'LV' marker on the guard's van, making it important that the train is correctly marshalled!
At night or in conditions of poor visibility, the tail lamp must be lit. The traditional tail lamp uses a burner comprising a woven wick fed with paraffin from a vessel. The burner and vessel can be removed from the lamp housing for filling and maintenance. The complete lamp is designed to stay alight even in severe, windy conditions, provided it's correctly cleaned and 'trimmed'. Although the burner produces only a small, yellow flame, the red 'bulls-eye' lens produces a remarkably visible indication when viewed from the rear. At night, when the train itself cannot be seen, the tail lamp is the last line of defence against being run into from the rear. Loose-coupled, slow-moving freights improved their chances of being seen by carrying two additional red lights - one on each side the brake van - as well. When turned into a loop or additional running line, the side light nearest the main line was changed to white, so that a following train on the main line would not be panicked into thinking an accident was imminent. Side lights always project a white light forwards, so that the footplate crew could confirm that the whole train was following.
The person most interested in observing the tail lamp was the signalman, who had to satisfy himself that the whole train had passed clear of his section before allowing a second train to approach. Special bell signals were provided for 'train passed without tail lamp' and 'tail lamp out when should be lit'. As important as making sure that a train has a tail lamp is making sure that it has only one. If vehicles are attached at the rear, the original tail lamp must be removed and moved to its new position. If the locomotive was carrying a tail lamp when on its way to work the train, then this must be removed when the loco is attached to the train.
Loco lamps are a slightly different pattern from tail lamps. They normally have a clear 'bulls-eye' lens and a removeable red shade so that one lamp can do duty as a head lamp (white) or tail lamp (red). Engines normally have 4 lamp irons at each end, one near the chimney, one over each buffer and one in the centre of the buffer beam. Different combinations of lamps are used to indicate the class of the train. Remember that headcodes like 'top and left' are described looking from the footplate - from in front of the engine it looks like 'top and right'. The Great Western used a different pattern of lamp iron, so only GW-pattern lamps can be used on GW engines. When lamps are not in use, they must be carefully stowed to prevent damage. Ex-GW engines have special lamp irons on the left running plate near the smokebox for this purpose.
When a train is double-headed, the train engine should not display headlamps but the pilot engine should carry the correct headcode for the class of train being assisted.
I think everything I tackle should come with the rider 'Work in Progress', for nothing ever seems to be 'finished-finished'. 'Work in Progess' sounds less accusative than 'Believed to be correct but probably flawed and incomplete'. As people who write software quickly discover, it's almost impossible to get things exactly as you intend (despite the plethora of structured approaches intended to avoid error). However thoroughly text is proof-read, it's amazing how, much later, glaring errors can be spotted. So, everything has an implied caveat.
I'm critical of other people's spelling and grammatical errors, so you may think it rich that I crave the reader's indulgence when my standards slip below the desirable. My only excuse is that these posts are often prepared under less than ideal conditions.
When I'm at home, the writing is often done in the "wee small hours" when my eyes have trouble focussing and my fingers refuse to descend upon the intended key, but rather sprawl across a number of keys which each seem intent on adding their burden to the typed word. Sometimes, the intended letter appears together with one or two others which were not required; on other occasions, none of the letters which appear are actually part of the word I was seeking to type.
When I'm travelling, the problems may be compounded by unfamiliar computers, indifferent connections and uncertain power. The image I'm trying to suggest of the intrepid reporter struggling against the odds to get the news back to a waiting public may be slightly undermined by the heading photograph, taken in Yangon by my friend Doctor Hla Tun, which shows 'blogging' in the agreeable surroundings of the Strand Hotel.
But, as you get older, you realise that the remaining time to actually get this stuff down is not unlimited and a certain sense of desperation sets in. I've just reviewed how many posts are still in draft awaiting completion and correction and my New Year Resolution is to "Get 'em published, ready or not". Only you, gentle reader, can decide on the wisdom of this resolution.
Peckett & Sons Limited were a well-known manufacturer of steam locomotives, mainly industrial types, based in Bristol. Martyn Bane has produced an excellent Peckett site which gives an excellent range of information on the company and its products. There are some fascinating copies of original drawings, the Peckett catalogue and photographs of a number of locomotives.
My own introduction to industrial locomotives involved products from Robert Stephenson and other builders in the North East. They all seemed massively built and somehow I associated this belief in ruggedness with George Stephenson himself, who is supposed to have dismissed competitors like 'Novelty' at the Rainhill Trials with the pronouncement "They've got no goots!". When I started looking at Peckett products, they struck me as somehow more delicate in design than their competitors from the North East. That's not meant as a criticism, for I've always found Pecketts master of their intended work. Below I've listed a few Pecketts I've come across.
Works Number 2004
I suppose the first Peckett I studied was 2004, built 1941. This was a type W7 four-coupled saddletank at Birmingham Railway Museum but it was (and remains) in non-steamable condition. It was called 'Rocket' at the time but, painted green and numbered '6', it served as 'Percy' on 'Thomas the Tank' days.
Works Number 1163 'Whitehead'
I think the first Peckett I drove was 'Whitehead', built 1908. It spent some time at what's now called the Museum of Science and Industry in Manchester, working the weekend passenger shuttles. It was kept in good condition with an attractive green livery and was a reliable performer. It had spent its life at the Whitehead Wire Works. During restoration, a vacuum ejector had been added so that it could operate passenger trains in preservation.
Works Number 1788 'Kilmersdon'
For a time, I helped out on driving experience courses at the West Somerset Railway. Although I had some trips along the whole length of the line, my normal role was to introduce the trainees to driving along the length of the run-round loop at Minehead, which is over 1/4 mile long. 'Kilmersdon' was ideal for this role and I would 'single-man', acting as fireman as well as supervising the driving trainees. The locomotive was built in 1929 for use at Kilmersdon Colliery.
Works Number 1859 'Sir Gomer'
For a number of years, 'Lamport No. 3' was the mainstay of passenger operations at Shackerstone. When she was withdrawn from service, the railway looked around for a replacement and six-coupled Peckett 'Sir Gomer' arrived. Unfortunately, the engine has had a chequered history at the Battlefield Line. The engine steams well and is very strong but has had recurrent lubrication problems, despite providing mechanical lubrication to all major points. The locomotive is a Peckett type OX1 built in 1932 for use at Mountain Ash Colliery.
Works Number 1555 'Ivor'
'Ivor' made the first visit to Shackerstone in 2007 and doesn't look much like a Peckett any more. Originally a type M5 built in 1920, I believe it worked at Cawdor Quarry, Matlock. Martyn Baynes' site has Peckett drawing 5690 showing the boiler for the class M5. The drawing is for locomotives from works number 1822, so it may show some deviations from Ivor's boiler (if, indeed, it's still the original boiler).
The one that (nearly) got away
My friend Keith enquired about an interesting Peckett that he believed had been at Shackerstone and Roy, the Fount of Wisdom on industrial locomotives, was able to give me some pointers.
In 1910, Peckett built a diminuitive standard gauge shunter for Yorktown, Camberley and Blackwater Gas. It was basically a narrow-gauge locomotive 'over-gauged' to run on four foot eight and a half inch track. During the Second World War, a further eight were built for use in Ordnance Factories, informally called the 'Yorktown' class. Works Number 2012 built in 1941 is the sole survivor of the class and ended its industrial life at Cadbury's Blackpole Works, in Worcestershire. It was acquired by Teddy Boston and was stored for some years at Shackerstone before moving to Cadeby.
When the Cadeby Collection was disposed of, the locomotive was brought back to life by Robert Gambrill and is now based on the Lavender Line in Sussex. An official naming ceremony is planned for later in 2009. The picture above (by courtesy of Robert Gambrill) shows 2012 performing as 'Percy' on the Mid Hants Railway.
Milford and Brocton Station around 1900, looking south, from a postcard.
In the early 1950s, I had to stay for a few weeks in Milford, near Stafford. The sound of trains indicated that the railway was fairly close, so it was not long before my explorations led me to the nearest bridge over the railway to watch the procession of trains. Milford was situated on the Trent Valley Line, which took all the major expresses and freight from Rugby to Stafford, avoiding Coventry, Birmingham and Wolverhampton.
At that time, the largest passenger locomotives to be seen in the West Midlands were 'Scots', 'Patriots' and 'Jubilees'. It was rumoured that 'Pacifics' were banned but, towards the end of steam, they started to appear around Birmingham and along the Stour Valley Line.
Back in the early '50s, I'd seen very few of Stanier's Pacifics, so I was amazed to see named trains, like the 'Merseyside Express' and 'Royal Scot', hauled by 'Princess' or 'Princess Coronation' locomotives, speeding through Milford. I think I saw just one streamlined 'Princess Coronation'. There was plenty of freight traffic, too, hauled by 'Crabs', 'Eight Freights' and 'Black Fives'. I never collected engine numbers so I've no idea exactly what I saw, but I was very impressed.
The L&NWR pattern signal box was close to the bridge and, with the windows open, the tinkling of the block bells and the crash of the levers was clearly audible. I was fascinated trying to understand how it all worked just by watching from afar. A few years later, I studied railway signalling more seriously and had the opportunity of working boxes, unofficially, myself (see 'Visiting Signalboxes').
The line to the south, towards Colwich, was, and remains today, double track because of the bottleneck of Shugborough Tunnel, driven under the landscaped grounds of Shugborough Hall. The box at Milford controlled the points which provided four roads (paired by direction) towards Stafford. Up freights would sometimes have to wait at Milford for a suitable 'margin' before continuing south to Colwich, where they could be 'recessed'. Lengthy northbound freights could take a while to drag themselves onto the Down Slow so that they could be overtaken by following passenger trains routed onto the down fast. A passenger train which had been 'baulked' in this way could be expected to be working hard passing Milford, trying to regain lost time.
The passenger station shown in the photograph above opened in 1877 and was officially termed 'Milford and Brocton'. It closed in 1950 and no sign of the passenger station remained at the time of my visits described above, but the overbridge in the photograph remains.
The signal box was swept away during electrification in the 1960s and was replaced by a satellite interlocking. All the lines were re-aligned with a staggered set of junctions giving access to the slow lines which are now paired by use on the down side. This was presumably to avoid conflicting moves as the slow lines now remain on the down side through Stafford and all the way to Crewe.
References:
For track layouts in the 1950s, refer to the excellent series of publications from the Signalling Record Society 'British Railways Layout Plans of the 1950's'. Milford is included in 'Volume 1: ex-LNWR main line, Euston to Crewe' (ISBN: 1 873228 00 7).
For details of the revised layout at Milford in 2005, refer to 'Railway Track Diagrams Book 4: Midlands & North West', Second Edition, published by Trackmaps (ISBN: 0-9549866-0-1). The First Edition of this book was published by Quail in 1988.
More information is given in 'Steam around Stafford' by Mike Hitches, published by Sutton Publishing (ISBN: 0-7509-2368-7).
When I discovered that my friend Eddie Jones is Director of 'Warwickshire Baroque', we decided that Brewood Hall would be an suitable venue for a concert. The idea of a charity concert emerged, to support relief work in Myanmar following Cyclone Nargis.
Following a fair amount of preparation, the concert was held on 23rd December 2008. The impressive line-up featured a spinet, cello, viola and four violins.
Old lady, seeking directions from a New Yorker: "Young man, how do I get to Carnegie Hall?"
"Ya gotta practice, ma'am, ya gotta practice".
I was reminded of this old joke mid-afternoon when the musicians arrived and immediately set up to practice the pieces to be performed, only leaving time for a rather hurried meal at the 'Admiral Rodney' before the concert. The published programme is shown below:-
Warwickshire Baroque (Director: E. Jones) present a Concert of Baroque Pieces in the Historic Surroundings of Brewood Hall on Tuesday, 23rd December 2008. Guests are welcome to take their seats from 7.00 p.m. The Concert will start at 7.30 p.m.
Programme
1. Symphonia in G by J.F. Fasch (1688-1758).
2. Concerto In E minor by A. Vivaldi (1678-1741).
3. Arrival of Queen of Sheba by G. F. Handel (1685-1759).
During the Interval of around 30 minutes, Guests will be offered a Glass of Wine and a seasonal Mince Pie.
4. Canon in D major by J. Pachelbel (1653-1706).
5. La Putain (Die Dirne) by G. P. Telemann (1681-1767).
6. Christmas Concerto by A. Corelli (1653-1713).
The Performers
Eddie Jones - 1st violins
John Walton - 1st violins
Tim Bugg - 2nd violins
Monika Walton - 2nd violins
Trevor Maunder - viola
Luke Fowler - cello
Sheila Koch - spinet
About Warwickshire Baroque
Warwickshire Baroque aim to play music of the Baroque time in a sensitive and authentic style. Many of the band play with authentic instruments, and/or with baroque bows. Most of the players perform regularly in other Warwickshire orchestras. Members come from all walks of life, with a sprinkling of teachers, university professors, retired folk and a variety of others all united in a love of music. Concerts are given several times a year, regularly at St. Leonard’s Church in Ryton on Dunsmore, and also at St. Peter ad Vincula in Hampton Lucy and Nuneaton.
Eddie Jones is Deputy Area Manager for Warwickshire County Music Service based in Rugby. As well as teaching the violin for many years in Warwickshire, he has conducted Coventry Savoy Opera Society, the Bedworth Orchestra, the North Warwickshire Chamber Orchestra, Rugby Rococo Players, and Warwickshire Baroque. As a violinist, Eddie regularly plays chamber music with friends, and has also played electric violin with local folk rock bands!
Eddie introduced each piece with some background information. The running order was slightly changed and other short pieces and carols were inserted. It was a magical evening. I suppose the incredients are the venue, the musicians, the music and the guests. We seemed to achieve just the right mix. Brewood Hall always manages to be a welcoming place, effortlessly adapting itself to whatever is going on. I hadn't met any of the performers before, other than the Director, Eddie Jones. Having known Eddie (who, amongst his other interests, plays folk in Black Parrot Seaside) for some years, I had no doubts that the performance would be excellent. Baroque music has always appealed to me but a number of the guests were not familiar with the style so I wasn't quite sure how the programme would be received. I needn't have worried - the most common remark from guests afterwards was "When are you doing it again?"
Video appears by permission of Warwickshire Baroque.
Fireman Dave Ives on 'Royal Pioneer' waiting for departure from Rowsley.
Christmas is a busy time on most preserved railways. A substantial proportion of the annual income is often generated during December by the 'Santa' trains.
I had a couple of turns at Peak Rail in December 2008. The 'Santa Specials' at Peak Rail followed the established practice of a 7-coach train 'top-and-tailed' by 'Royal Pioneer' at the south end and a diesel at the north end. Passenger numbers were good but the weather was generally overcast and damp. There's a small collection of pictures.
"Love Letters and Live Wires" is the rather corny title of a documentary film by the British Film Institute featuring highlights from the GPO Film Unit output in the period 1936 to 1939.
My friends Marion and Jim took me to a showing at the 'Lighthouse' cinema in Wolverhampton. Although some of the features are rather dated now, the variety of the output is impressive and the insight into the development of documentary film technique is interesting. Perhaps the best-known film shown was the 1936 'Night Mail', famous for the poem by W. H. Auden. There's a clip on 'You Tube' which is linked below.
The excellent technical quality of these black and white films is apparent when they're projected onto a cinema screen - the effect is diminished on the small screen.
When I was reminded that the last visit to Brewood Hall by the Brewood Civic Society was in 2004, we agreed to arrange a 'Brewood Hall Revisited' event in December 2008. The Society handled bookings and provided wine and refreshments whilst the informal band of 'Friends of Brewood Hall' helped to make the Hall ready.
With a total of 82 bookings, half of the visitors were asked to arrive at 7.00 p.m. and the remainder at 8.00 p.m. On arrival, the visitors were further divided into two groups of about 20. One group was taken on a conducted tour of part of the house whilst the other group enjoyed wine and mince pies in the dining room. The two groups then exchanged places so that everybody had refreshments and the tour.
Some delay in the arrival of the wine led to a little late running and there was a good-natured crush as the 8.00 p.m. party arrived before the 7.00 p.m. party had completed their visit.
Jan Ford conducted the four tours which visited the principal rooms on the ground floor and first floor with a brief foray to the second floor. The weather was mild enough to allow a short inspection of the conservation work on the garden retaining walls and access steps and a visit to the renovated small barn.
Civic Society members appreciated the opportunity to look around the Hall and were complimentary about the conservation work carried out. Following the visit, the Society made a donation which will support relief work in Myanmar following Cyclone Nargis.
Following the July 'Day Out with Thomas' events (see earlier post), the Battlefield Line ran four more 'Day Out with Thomas' events in October 2008.
I was rostered on three of these days. On the first Saturday, 11th October, I was on the footplate of 1306 'Mayflower' which took the 11.15 a.m., 12.30 p.m., 2.0 p.m. and 3.15 p.m. departures from Shackerstone. On the next day, the 12th October, and the following Saturday, the 18th October, I was on 'Thomas' with Adrian. 'Thomas' was busy all day. In addition to hauling two service trains to Shenton (the 10.00 a.m. and the 4.30 p.m. 'Tea with Thomas'), Thomas engaged in races and playlets in Shackerstone station and went on a number of 'Thomas and Daisy Shuttles' with the 2-car DMU to Headley's Crossing (at 12.05, 1.20 p.m., 1.40 p.m., 2.50 p.m. and 4.05 p.m.). The video below shows one of the 'Thomas and Daisy Shuttles'.
The event was very well attended and 'Thomas' behaved impeccably, attracting a lot of interest with his new 'chime' whistle. This Hunslet locomotive should be a saddletank, but has recently received a 'make-over' as 'Thomas'
There are a few pictures of the event - Click here.
There are a few pictures of 'Thomas' during preparation - Click here.
In October 2008, the Battlefield Line held four 'Day Out with Thomas' Days. On the first day, 11th October, I was on the footplate of 1306 'Mayflower', which hauled four of the service trains to Shenton (the 11.15 a.m., 12.30 p.m., 2.0 p.m. and 3.15 p.m. departures from Shackerstone).
I'd not previously fired a 'B1', so I was pleased to be invited to fire on the second round trip of the day. Since that trip passed off without problem, I also fired the third round trip.
The Great Northern Firedoor
People are sometimes put off by the distinctive Great Northern 'Trap Door' firedoor, but I was used to this type of firedoor from working on other locomotives like 'Flying Scotsman' and 'Sir Nigel Gresley'. The firehole is oval, covered by a large, oval, dished, cast door. This door is hinged on the left and held closed by a vertical sliding catch on the right. The door has a smaller, oval aperture which is covered by a flap (the 'trap door') carried on a horizontal pivot. The pivot is positioned just above the centreline of the door aperture. When the flap is vertical (as shown in the photograph), the firedoor is closed, with only a minimum of 'top air' admitted to the firebox around the edge of the flap. The vertical bar in front of the firedoor is hinged at the top and has a sawtooth profile on the inside. The sawtooth forms a ratchet, allowing the flap to be opened to a number of different angles.
To increase the amount of 'top air', the fireman simply pushes the lower part of the flap with the shovel blade. The flap pivots and the hinged ratchet bar retains the flap at the desired angle. This is both simple and effective.
To fire, the fireman pushes the lower part of the flap with the shovel blade until the ratchet bar retains the flap in a horizontal position. Reasonable accuracy is needed to slide the shovel through the aperture underneath the flap and it's essential not to overload the shovel.
Left Hand - Right Hand
With left-hand drive locomotives like this, the fireman should be on the right of the footplate, so this tends to favour a fireman who is naturally left-handed. In the old days, fireman tended to learn to be ambidextrous, so as to keep out of the driver's way whether locomotives were left- or right-hand drive but in preservation, drivers tend to be more tolerant of fireman working from the wrong side. I'm naturally left-handed, so the 'B1' suits me. I can fire a short firebox left- or right-handed, but to get down the front of a longer box, I really prefer to be standing on the right.
Stance
Stance is important - even in preservation, the footplate can become a little 'lively' on the road so the fireman should choose a firing position that can be retained when the engine's in motion. The fireman should avoid being a 'dancer', moving about during firing. I was taught to 'be a tree' and place your feet so that both the coal supply and the firebox can be reached just by twisting the upper part of the body. On the 'B1', I found a position just to the right of the firehole, turned slightly towards the tender suited me.
Height above the Footplate
The other crucial factors are the height of the shovelling plate in the tender and the height of the firehole above the footplate. These heights vary enormously from class to class. Great Western tender engines have no raised shovelling plate - you're shovelling the coal from the floor of the coal space at footplate level. The 'B1' is similar with a very low shovelling plate (see the photograph at the top of this post). Locomotives like this probably favour shorter fireman. It's certainly desirable to be able to bend down without problems. On fairly modern designs of tender (like the Stanier) a raised shovelling plate is more common, so that the coal is presented at a level considered more convenient. The fireholes on Great Western types and on the 'B1' are set fairly low on the boiler backhead and this works fairly well with a low shovelling plate - too much difference in height between shovelling plate and firehole can make accurate firing harder. You really need to 'calibrate' your swing so that the shovel blade arrives at the firehole at the right level without looking or without consciously thinking about it. This is where practice is essential.
Firing
So how did I fire it? Well, with any unfamiliar engine, you have to make an educated guess about what's needed and be prepared to modify your technique if you don't get the right results. As departure time approached,I decided on a small firing to get the boiler pressure up to near the blowing-off point. You want to give your driver confidence that he's got full pressure for starting away. Water level in the gauge glass was about an inch and a half below the top, so I knew that if she 'made' faster than I expected, I could put the injector on to prevent blowing off. I tried a light firing of six shovelfulls, two in the back corners, two halfway down the box and two towards the front. Each pair was placed one on the left, one on the right and then the trap door was closed. I was gratified to see the pressure come up quite quickly and hover just below the 'red line'. Checking the chimney, the exhaust darkened as I fired, but quickly turned an acceptable grey. Since the platform was my side, I kept looking out for the guard's 'rightaway'. When I saw the 'tip' I shouted "Rightaway!" to the driver and, at the same time, gave an acknowledgement by hand to the guard.
I try to avoid the temptation to fire again as the train starts away. Firstly, a lot more air is being drawn through the firebox with the regulator open and it takes a while for the temperature of the firebed to be raised. Adding coal too early just cools the fire and makes it more likely that the boiler pressure will fall. Secondly, the period as the coaches are being drawn out of the platform is more dangerous. The slow speed may encourage people to attempt to get off or get on. Station staff may spot something unsafe and they can only alert the footplate crew if somebody is looking back. A glance at the boiler pressure gauge showed that the pressure was holding up.
Once the train was clear of the platform, I fired another six, as before. As long as the exhaust from the chimney is grey, it indicates that volatiles are still being driven out of the coal. Once the exhaust becomes pale grey, it's time to fire again, unless you know the driver is about to close the regulator and reduce his consumption of steam. This is why a fireman needs to know both the route and the driving technique adopted by each driver.
Check-in at Dubai was fast and painless. No sooner had the car stopped at Emirates Business Check-in than one member of Emirates staff was welcoming me and directing me to a free check-in desk whilst a second collected the bags and followed on. The charming check-in lady quickly found my reservation (although I'd mislaid my e-ticket receipt), issued the boarding pass and Business Lounge Invitation and confirmed that Emirates were also providing a car from Birmingham Airport to my home. Passport control and security was equally fast, but then I was on my own in the huge terminal.
More by luck than judgement, I navigated to the Lounge without error. As befits Emirates home base, it's a huge lounge on two levels with comprehensive facilities. There's a large area with at least 20 internet computers you can use but, if you've your own machine, you can pick up mains from one of the many floor sockets and my Notebook attached to their Wi-Fi without my intervention.
Three hours ago I was in the pool under the deset sun, now I'm in the air-conditioned calm of the Emirates Lounge, about to start the final leg of what has been a fantastic journey.
Post Script
Well, I got back to Birmingham safely, the Emirates car took me home quickly and I was re-united with my dog Tai. The following day, Sunday, I didn't do a lot and on Monday I was back to work. It'll take me some time to sort out all the experiences of the trip and post my photographs but it was a wonderful time.
The world's financial systems seemed to be collapsing whilst I was away and, on my return, they went into free-fall giving each of us many uncertainties for the future. Whatever the future holds, I've been fortunate in having had some splendid experiences for which I'm most grateful.
The Emirates flight to Dubai worked well and we were safely on the ground early morning Thursday. Until they get the new Emirates terminal finished, it takes a while to be bussed to the terminal but then everything went smoothly. I was actually met 'Airside' by a representative of the tour company. He explained that a colleague would meet me once I'd gone through immigration, collected my luggage and cleared customs. This only took a few minutes and the travel guy was waiting. In turn, he took me and my luggage to a waiting 4 X 4. The driver was to give me the 'City Tour' and then deliver me to the Al Maha Desert Resort, about an hour from the city.
I don't want to be unfair to the city or the driver but I've had better tours. I probably wasn't in the most receptive of moods after a night on an aircraft but the tour seemed a bit grudging. Even after reminding him about the booked trip on a boat across Dubai Creek, it didn't happen. But Dubai Creek doesn't look that exciting. It's a strip of water running inland from the Arabian Gulf dividing the old city into Deira side and Bur Dubai Side. There's still a swarm of tiny ferries ('Abra') which cross the creek, well-patronised by locals but motorists can now use the Al Shindagha tunnel on the seaward side and four different bridges on the landward side. There's not much that's very old left and what remains is dwarfed by all the tall modern buildings and the expensive motor cruisers protected by signs saying 'Outsiders not allowed inside jetty' (a rather intriguing sentence construction). Being still quite early, all the shops were shut. Port Rachid blocks the view of the Arabian Gulf from Bur Dubai. There's a container port which is also used by visiting cruise liners. Immediately to the south-west of the port is Dubai Dry Docks, with a massive floating crane and a fairly large new ship apparently under construction. Further south-west again is Jumeirah and this is where a lot of the recent development has gone on. There's a tourist beach and Jumeirah Beach Park. There's a long succession of new apartments and more than enough beauty clinics. There's a sailing club and shipbuilders constructing traditional dhows. Then, you come to the famous Jumeirah Beach Hotel (looking very 'Las Vegas'). Beyond here, there's another public beach. This is where the tour buses stop so that people can go on the beach and take pictures of the Burg Al Arab hotel, iconic symbol of modern Dubai. Somehow, it looks smaller than I expected up close but that's probably just me. As we returned to the old city we passed huge new developments of apartments and I realised what I probably disliked about the place - conspicuous consumption (just like 'Vegas).
Finally, the driver insisted I check out the Mall of the Emirates, which I duly did. Well, it's a big shopping mall, similar to all the big malls you've seen everywhere else, with all the names you've seen everywhere else (Harvey Nicks, Debenhams, etc.). Most places don't open until 10.00 a.m. so the only place open was a huge Carrefour which was already well-patronised, mainly by European ex-patriates. Although it was only 9.30, I was happy to agree to the driver's suggestion that he deliver me to Al Maha, which I hoped I'd find more agreeable.
Once out of the city, we were on a dual carriageway passing through fairly featureless countryside, very dry and dusty. We turned off an an underpass signposted to 'Al Maha' and soon came to a security post with electric gates and fencing leading away left and right. Fortunately, my name was on the guard's list so the gate slowly trundled open and we were able to continue our journey on a metalled road through fairly barren desert. We were waved through a second checkpoint and soon came upon signs of civilisation, with various support buildings set back on either side of the road. We stopped at a turning circle with a low building to the side and I was immediately welcomed by reception staff and led into the main hall - a modern construction but in traditional style. I was presented with a welcoming fruit juice whilst formalities were completed. The lady receptionist then took me back outside where a number of electric buggies were parked. Selecting one of the buggies, she then took me, via a meandering network of block-paved footpaths, to Guest Unit 16 (romantic, huh?), my home for the next two days.
The Al Maha Project is a clever amalgam of natural conservation and exclusive resort. The Dubai Desert Conservation Reserve fenced off 75 square miles of land. Within that reserve, an upmarket tourist resort was created, seeking to offer guests an experience of the desert combined with the facilities associated with the world's best 'remote island' resorts.
I'll have to fill in the details later but I was impressed, particularly with my private plunge pool, where I spent hours. In the two days I did four 'activities'.
The first was the camel ride. A fairly passive event with two camel 'trains', each with about seven well-behaved camels. The lead camel was taken by the camel driver, then each of the following camels was tied to the one in front and carried one or two passengers. We set off into the desert at the slow, lurching pace camels have and went perhaps half a mile or so before dismounting. Champagne was on hand so that we could relax for a few minutes and watch the sun set across the Arabian desert. Then we re-mounted and went home.
Next morning about 20 of us went in a series of 4 X 4 out into the desert where a falconry demonstration was given with two falcons and a very bad-tempered and unco-operative eagle owl. Later, we visited the falconry and were able to slip on the thick leather glove and hold one of the birds.
In the evening, just the lady guide and I went in a 4 X 4 on a 'Nature Drive' into the desert, to see how many wild animals we could spot. This was a great experience.
On Saturday morning, six 4 X 4 went in convoy on a 'Desert Drive'. Again, just me and the lady guide in our 'Landcruiser'. This time, we left the nature reserve and drove onto the 'public area' where the dunes are bigger and, for the first time in my life, I saw 4 X 4 doing the work they were designed for - quite thrilling! The lead vehicle got bogged down in soft sand on one occasion and his tow rope came out so that our vehicle could tow him out. They speak very highly of the Toyota 'Landcruiser' which they use.
After a light breakfast, I was back in the pool. I was still there at 10.45 when reception rang to say "Your 11.00 airport car is here". I thought it was booked for noon! So I finished getting ready in record time and was soon being whisked back to Dubai airport in a Volvo.
The visit to Al Maha made a splendid conclusion to an exhausting tour.
As I start to write this in the hotel, it's half past seven in the evening on Wednesday, 24th Sptember. Soon my guide, Mr. Bounleuth, will pick me up for the airport. I'm due to depart on Thai flight TG693 for Bangkok, arriving 23:10. After stooging around for a bit, I'm then supposed to take Emirates flight EK419 to Dubai, departing Bangkok at 02:30, Thursday morning.
It'll take a while to post my pictures, but I've put a short assortment at Far East Miscellany.
Incidentally, some hotel pictures have been added at Hotels of the World because, being smaller Collections, they've easier to transfer.
Flash ... Flash ... Here's an update at a quarter to midnight, Bangkok, Wednesday.
Mr. Bounleuth picked me up as arranged and, since it's less than five miles to Wattay Airport, we were soon there. Mr. Bounleuth stayed with me until I was checked-in, then we said our goodbyes and I went through passport control and into the small Thai lounge. I used their internet computer for a while but it wasn't very easy. However, the flight was soon called so I joined the aircraft, this time a 747-400. The flight is only 65 minutes, so they've only time to serve a snack meal, but it's done well and I'm so relaxed that I go to sleep on finals at Bangkok and wake up with a bit of a start when we touch down. We taxi for about ten minutes to the stand and disembark via steps to a waiting transfer bus. It's hot when we leave the aircraft but the transfer bus and the whole of the huge terminal have air conditioning going hard, so I'm glad I'm wearing a long-sleeved top. Next, it's the problem of trying to find a transit desk to check-in for my Emirates leg to Dubai. I find the transit desk but there's a sign suggesting Business passengers check-in in the lounge, so I've the new problem of locating the lounge. I crack this and get a good welcome. The inbound flight (from Auckland and Sydney, I think) is about an hour late, but with a lounge to wait in, I'm fairly happy, especially since the Wi-Fi seems to work well.
On the way out from England, I transited through Dubai, but on the way back, I'm going to spend a couple of nights there. Dubai should be positively my last stopping point and I hope to be back in England on Saturday.
Since I had most of Wednesday free, I decided to book a day tour up to the hyro-electric dam and the associated lake. The local tour company wanted paying in U.S. Dollars, cash, so we started the day by going to bank BCEL (as recommended by 'Lonely Planet') so that I could get a cash advance.
Ang Nam Ngum was created in 1971 to feed a hydro-electric plant. The electrical requirements of Laos are low by European standards so surplus electricity is sold to neighbouring Thailand and the project has been so successful that a number of similar schemes are being built.
I was picked up by Mr. Bounleuth and the driver at 8.30 a.m. and, after the visit to the bank, we set off North on route 13. This is a decent road but speeds are not high. Ribbon development accompanies the road for mile after mile. At Km 52, we stop at Ban Lak Ha-sip Sawng (that means Km 52 village, I believe). It's claim to fame is that it's the daily 'minority people's market'. It's run by the Hmong ethnic grouping and is very extensive. The covered section has permanent stalls displaying a wide range of jewellery and a bewildering array of household goods and consumables. But it's the fresh market which is most startling. There's a wide selection of vegetables and fruit more rice than an army could eat. There's 'steam rice', 'new crop steam rice' and various types of 'sticky rice'.
I found the poultry and fish section troubling. The Lao people like their poultry fresh, so live birds are tied to the leg of the stall, awaiting sale. Fish and eels are kept alive in a variety of bowls and containers filled with water and with some sort of netting over the top. The netting is intentionally incomplete, so that the vendor can reach in for the fish but the result is that the more active fish can attempt to escape. I was surprised by the regularity that this occurred. Where the stall holder was alert, the recalitrant could be quickly collected in a bowl and returned to the main container. But when sales are slow, Lao people are quite happy to lie down and doze, so it then relied upon somebody else noticing the escapee and alerting the somnolent stall holder. It's not an arrangement I'm happy with, but I am a 'farang' (foreigner) in their country. There were plenty of stalls selling cooked items - whole fish, like carp, being grilled over charcoal or wood fires. My guide haggled over various items he wanted to buy, including rice as I've not seen it, ready-cooked and wrapped in bamboo, looking a bit like a stick of dynamite. This is the original 'fast food': it can be easily carried when travelling and 'unwrapped' when required. It was made with 'new crop steam rice' and had a sweeter taste than I was expecting. (More follows).
Here’s how I was introduced to the Big Brother Mouse initiative. I was on the Luang Say cruise boat travelling down then Mekong River in Laos. We’d moored near a remote Khmu village and we’d been looking at the way the local people lived. Then, all of a sudden, we came upon this tall American who, bit by bit, explained why he was there.
Sasha had sold his publishing business in Boston, looking for a new challenge, and had gravitated to Laos. He was amazed to discover just how few books there seemed to be around. Many schools seemed to get by without a single textbook in Lao or any other language. Believing that literacy is the best route to self-improvement, he pondered what could be done. He spent some time talking to Government people, to see what their attitude would be. There are a number of Non-Governmental Organisations operating in Laos and that seemed a possible way to fund the initiative. But, after financing the project with his own money for a time, Sasha persuaded a Lao national to set up a company and the American became an unpaid advisor and informal fund raiser.
So how does it work? Firstly, Big Brother Mouse produces high-quality picture books printed in colour where the pictures are accompanied by text in Lao (and sometimes English as well). Already, there are over 50 books for different ages on different topics. They may re-tell a traditional tale (not necessarily a Lao story – Sherlock Holmes has been given the ‘Big Brother Mouse’ treatment) or talk about Wonders of the World, Dinosaurs, Astronomy, anything. The only requirement is that the text should be clear and the pictures entertaining. Text, pictures and printing are done by Lao people in Laos. The aim is to engage the imagination of the reader and to show that reading is fun.
The idea that reading is fun is probably alien to most of the target audience, unfamiliar as they are with books. So a key strategy is to introduce them to the books in a fun environment – the Book Party. Big Brother Mouse arranges the date and time with the local school teacher and all the pupils are invited to a Book Party.
Here’s how the Book Party I attended worked. Three young Lao people from Big Brother Mouse had travelled on the boat, bringing the materials needed. At this village, the three-classroom school was a little way out of the main village, next to a large playing field. The pupils (around 100 at this location) were formed up into a ring on the playing field and the Big Brother Mouse team soon had them shouting and cheering and playing simple games. When it came to the three-legged race, the foreign tourists were invited to join in and a few of us did, hobbling round in a big circle to a lot of laughing and cheering. A refinement was to equip one pair of boys with grotesque masks and this pair could eliminate other participants by touching them. The game went on until everybody had been ‘tagged’.
Now the foreign tourists were invited to take part in the issuing of supplies. A selection of Big Brother Mouse books were laid out and each young person was allowed to choose a book to take away. My role was to issue three sheets of A4 paper and a pencil (with an eraser at the end) to each child. They each made an attempt to give a Lao ‘thank you’ with palms together, but it was clear that some of them were uneasy at approaching these strange foreigners. The local teacher is issued with a ‘Swap Box’ so that children can exchange their book, once read, for another title.
This marvellous initiative has been running for a few years and is expanding. Foreign visitors coming to Laos have been sufficiently impressed to keep the project going. The Website allows anyone to make a contribution to the work.
23SEP
Transfer from hotel to airport.
Flight from Luang Prabang to Vientiane
Proposed flight number and time QV102 depart 1310 arrive 1350
1 night SETTHA PALACE HOTEL in a executive suite.
Discover Vientiane, its most beautiful Buddhist monastery, and the striking That Luang and Patuxai monuments. This is a half day tour commencing early afternoon. This afternoon you will be met at your hotel (or at the airport) for an introduction to Laos’s capital. Located on the Mekong River and with a population of 600,000, Vientiane has a laid-back, appealing feel. Your touring will take in a sample of the city’s main sights. We first visit exquisite Wat Sisaket, Vientiane’s oldest original temple, and built in 1818 - all other temples in Vientiane were re-built after the Siamese invasion of 1828. We then explore the city’s most famous landmark, the golden-spired Phra That Luang. This national monument is symbolic of both the monarchy and the Buddhist religion. At the end of the day we ascend the stairs of the Patuxai Monument, reminiscent of the Arc de Triomphe in Paris, then conclude with brief visit to the banks of the Mekong, to take in the sunset.
You'll notice there's only one night in Vientiane, then I head for Bangkok on the way home, so it won't be quite as relaxed as the three nights in Luang Prabang.
I'm up at five, because Mr. Somphet is picking me up at 6.30 a.m. to fly to the capital of Laos, Vientiane. The airport is only a short drive away and security and check-in is quick so there's time to relax in the small terminal. Most of my fellow passengers were on the Luang Say boat a couple of days ago. Just before eight, we walk out onto the apron and join the aircraft, an ATR-42 turboprop operated by Air Laos. Its only a 35 minute flight by air (considerably longer by road) so, very soon, we're walking across the tarmac at Vientiane, which has the luxury of a single baggage conveyor in the luggage fall. My bag arrives promptly and in the arrivals hall, my smiling guide is waiting.
Outside, the driver is waiting with a 'Kia' people carrier. It's hot - about 34 degrees. It's only a short drive to my hotel but the roads have a 'big city' feel which comes as a bit of a shock after the last few days. With migrant workers and transients, there are more like a million people in Vientiane. In this part of the city, buildings are modern and fairly nondescript. At first sight, this could be any city in South East Asia. Suddenly, we stop in the shadow of a massive microwave transmission tower - we're here. The Settha Palace Hotel is only two storey (good), modern concrete construction but in a very traditional style inside with high ceilings and wide, wooden-floors. In fact, it reminds me of the 'Raffles' in Singapore. Check-in is brief and painless and my guide arranges to pick me up at 2.0 p.m. in the afternoon for a city tour. Although it's only just after nine, my suite is ready and I'm very happy with it. There's a large sitting room, large bedroom and bathroom with bath and shower. I switch off the air conditioning (as I usually do) but, in a concession to the heat, switch on the ceiling fan. A large bowl of complimentary fruit is delivered and I'm feeling quite mellow. I have a shower and make a quick tour of the hotel. Everything seems in order. Internet is available by using a pre-paid card from 'Planet on Line'. Although Internet is cheaper in town, I purchase a pre-paid card for the convience of working in my room at funny times (I'm writing this at four o'clock in the morning).
Then, it's time for a walk to orientate myself. Armed with my 'Lonely Planet' guide (they really are good but, in a place like this, can get out-of-date quite quickly), I set off in the direction of the Mekong. I'm still suffering 'culture shock' by being back in the city and find all the people and the traffic quite odd. There seem to be plenty of tourists about but, from the hotels and restaurants I'm passing, it's clear this is the tourist part of town. I walk along the road parallel to the Mekong and briefly look at a (modern) monastery. Then I cross the road to look at the river. A few weeks ago, the river was in flood and there's a row of sandbags a couple of feet high running all along the shore. Apparently, the Government has just decreed that they must stay in place for a while. The open air restaurants spread along the shoreline with lots of little bamboo huts on stilts for the diners. It's quiet now, but this is clearly going to be a focus for the nightlife of Vientiane. At the next Monastery I visit, I'm engaged in conversation by a young monk. After being a novice for ten years, he's recently become a monk. His ambition is to study English at University but the costs are daunting. His English is pretty good and I think he wanted to practice his English rather than solicit a contribution so I make a small offering. I'm slightly uneasy, because there are all sorts of protocols in dealing with monks which I'm unaware of, and I don't want to cause offence.
I continue my walk around the town, fascinated by a small Department Store selling a bewildering range of things. Then I come to the Hall of Culture used for concerts and important meetings. It looks as dreadful as it sounds and must have been built with Chinese money. Nearby, the Lao National Museum is less offensive but a sign advises "Apologized Museum closed, Improving the exhibition room". The completion date has been altered in manuscript to read '15/10/2008', so I won't be going there. But I'm intrigued because the concrete fountain (not working) is of a design I've seen in a number of Russian-aided countries. Eminently possible, because the Soviet Union is one of many states that's provided aid to Laos over the years. Returning to the hotel, there are a couple of 'FX4' London Taxis outside, but I don't find out the story there.
We start our afternoon tour by going to Wat Si Saket, now a museum. Built around 1820 this hasn't been rebuilt and is looking distinctly tired but I'm enchanted by it. The main building (the 'Sim') is surrounded by rectangular cloisters crammed with preserved Buddha images of all shapes and styles. Although it's a museum, local people make offerings at the more important pieces, just as at active temple sites. The cloister wall is perforated with niches, all containing pairs of small, usually clay, Buddha images. Some multi-lingual signs discuss the problems of conserving the original materials used in construction.
Next, we look at the Emerald Buddha at Haw Pha Kaeo. This is now the National Museum of Religious Art but, for me, lacks the spirituality of Wat Si Sacket. Although the site is old, the present building was constructed, with French help, between 1936 and 1942 and it does nothing for me, although it holds a wide range of important artefacts. I can't illustrate the artefacts as photography is not permitted. Outside, there's one of the famous clay Jars, about four feet tall. In the South, the Plain of Jars is a famous site. The jars are thought to be funerary artefacts.
We then go to the Pha That Luang, regarded as the most important monument in Laos, it has the form of a large central Stupa surrounded by smaller ones on a tiered base and all painted gold. It was badly damaged during the invasion from what is now Thailand in 1828. The French restored it in 1900 and again in the 1930s. I don't doubt its religious significance (it reputedly holds the breastbone or pelvis of Lord Buddha) but aesthetically I find it disappointing.
Late afternoon, we visit the Patuxai. This wasn't built until the 1960s, allegedly using cement donated by the Americans intended for a new airport runway. The Lao people proudly call their triumphal arch the 'Arc de Triomphe'. There's some interesting painted relief detailing but most of the surface is untreated concrete which I find harsh. There's a hundred-odd steps to reach the top which I easily take. Inside is also bare concrete and badly lit by fluorescent tubes, giving a rather depressing appearance. Above the level of the four arches, there are two sales floors for tatty souvenirs. Because it's low season, the stall holders have barricaded off their stalls and gone home. It all produces a distinctly Laotion feel, but the Arc de Triomphe, it ain't. However, the view from the top is well worth the climb.
We drive to the Wat Si Muang, steeped in stories and said to hold the guardian spirit of Vientiane. The original structure was destroyed by invaders and rebuilt in 1915, but there's no doubting the energy of this place. Lots of people are coming and going all the time, at least two monks are carrying out separate ceremonies in different parts of the building and people are making personal devotions at various shrines. A strong smell of incense hangs over the place. My guide suggests I make a contribution, which I'm happy to do for a place that's so obviously dear to the local people. My donation earns me three strikes on a large gong, to make sure my subsequent prayer is heard. It's louder than I expect, but everyone just carries on doing their own thing.
Finally, we drive to the 'beach' - the shore of the Mekong where people are drinking at the numerous bamboo-constructed beer gardens. There's a relaxed atmosphere and we stay to watch the sunset. A racing boat with around 20 oarsmen and a cox appears and starts to practise for the forthcoming Vientiane races. I'm afraid they're rubbish. I'm happy to be dropped of at my hotel and, too tired to go down for dinner, I have fish and chips and chocolate cake in my room and am in bed by 9.0 p.m.
Monday is a 'Free Day'. I eshewed the blandishments of the hotel's various Spa treatments and decided to see more of the town. I considered doing an out-of-town trip, but decided I'd be happier just walking out of the hotel on my own two feet. The morning started cool but quickly warmed up. The hotel has a guard house and a lifting barrier. As I approached, the barrier went up (the guard releases a cord in the guardhouse and a counterweight lifts the barrier) and I was given a salute, just as he does for each vehicle which enters or leaves.
Being on foot gives you time to notice the oddities, the methods of electrical distribution (yeah, right), the concrete postbox stencilled 'Boites aux Lettres' (and with what looked like a very low security lock on the metal plate at the back to allow the letters to be collected), the man exercising his two goats, each on a piece of string, the fact that around 90% of traffic is motor bikes and it's possible to cross even main roads without too much trouble, the amount of new building, all of 'classic' reinforced concrete pattern, using remarkable amounts of bamboo or wooden props to support the floors whilst the concrete is hardening.
Take a side road, and the relative sophistication of the main tourist areas falls away and you can see evidence of much simpler life-styles, side by side with better properties, often the ones including shops and, as I commented earlier, with the incongruity of a smattering of satellite dishes.
The first temple I looked at was Wat Mahathat. Just one tourist followed me onto the site. A tiny cat was fast asleep in the sun on the temple steps. Next, I looked at Wat Ho Sian, the entrance steps from the road protected by fearful looking Naga Snakes - a seven-headed mythical snake present at a number of temples. There were plenty of tourists waiting outside the site, but I only saw young novices around the temple grounds. Just opposite was the Post Office, so I had a quick look inside. It's a fairly modest affair, so it did not detain me long.
I continued along the main street which had held the Night Market, noticing the frequent triple 2-pin sockets set low on the wall to power the lighting. The non-weatherproof fittings were charred and burnt from the heavy use. A quick glance again at Wat Mai Suwannaphumaham and a nicely-proportioned colonial building opposite (now tourist shops). At the foot of Phou Si Hill, Wat Pa Huak offers free admission (the more popular monasteries charge 20,000 Kip entry fee). Built 1860, it features some interesting wall paintings internally and a 'Trust Box' for the purchase of various items intended to support the restoration project.
We're now in 'Tourist Town', where most of the faces you see are European and the services offered are exclusively offered to appeal to tourists. I suppose it's inevitable when a country embraces tourism as a way of improving the lot of the indiginous population, but when I passed restaurant 'Tat Mor' I couldn't help feeling the name was somehow symbolic. I passed the old French school, echoing to shouting children and topped by a rusting corrugated iron roof.
Eventually, when the the guest houses and restaurants and travel agents petered out, I came to Wat Sensoukaraham, a tray of rice cakes drying on the wall. I noticed the skin at one end of the big ceremonial drum was torn - I bet the drummer got a ticking-off for that.
Then I came upon the blissful tranqility of Wat Khili. In addition to the usual monastic buildings, there is a doll's-house of a building, half-timbered, currently housing a temporary exhibition of photographs regarding the Manuscript Preservation Programme of the National Library of Laos. I'm reluctant to move on.
I've now reached the end of the peninsula, with the Mekong on my left and its tributary, the Nam Khan, flowing in from my right. A single fisherman is at the water's edge, checking his lines or nets. Another fisherman in a small boat is working near the confluence of the two rivers. Now the flood levels have gone down, the foreshore is rich in nutrients amd a number of vegetable patches are being prepared in the fertile ground. I decline various offers to charter a boat (although I'm tempted).
I make a second, brief visit to Wat Xieng Thong. This time, the main temple is crowded with novices eating their lunch and local worshippers. Then I come to Wat Nong Sikhounmuang. In addition to the Monks' quarters and the highly-decorated main temple, a second temple is being built (reinforced concrete, naturally.
More walking takes me to Big Brother Mouse's first shop in Luang Prabang. They tell me that the American volunteer adviser (whom I met a few days ago) is at their newer shop, a couple of blocks away. My increasingly weary steps take me to the newer, larger Big Brother Mouse shop and I chat to Sasha for a few minutes before starting to retrace my steps along the main street. This time, I do a deal with one of the 'Tuk-Tuk' drivers and return to the hotel.
I spend the afternoon writing in the hotel and indulge in Afternoon Tea on my own balcony. At 5.40 p.m., along with two youngish couples, I take the hotel 'Tuk-Tuk' down to the Night Market, walking round the as-yet quiet handicraft stalls, then exploring some of the stalls for locals. Near the main crossroads there's something of a 'bike jam' as a number of people make 'drive-through' purchases from the roadside vendors. There's a small group of stalls selling DVDs. They all appear to be popular music, appealing to the young people milling about.
There's a shuttle bus back to the hotel at 7.00 p.m. and I'm the only passenger. Having enjoyed Afternoon Tea, I've only space for a plate of the hotel's wonderful watercress soup. Tonight, I must pack because I'm being picked up at 6.30 a.m. to go to the airport.
Full day private tour. Discover the former Royal Palace of the now-deposed Royal family and sample a selection of the 32 gilded monasteries which make World-Heritage Listed Luang Prabang such a unique and loved locale.
This morning we begin with a visit to a local market, for an experience of uniquely Asian sights and sounds. We then explore the National Museum (which once served as the Royal Palace), full of fine examples of Lao art and furniture, and the former residence of the now deposed royal family. Our sampling of Luang Prabang’s exquisite temples begins with tours of serene Wat Xieng Thong, and Wat Mai. This latter temple was spared sacking by the Chinese Black Haws in the late nineteenth century, supposedly because of its beauty and stunning design. In the afternoon, we cross the width of the Mekong River in a small boat for a walking tour of some little-visited temples away from the main part of town. At the end of the day return to Luang Prabang and ascend the steps of Phou Si, the highest point in Luang Prabang and a great place for panoramic views of this wonderful World Heritage listed town. End the day with a better appreciation of the defining sites of one of Asia’s most enchanting places.
We'll see if the place can match its advance publicity! I got up at 6.00 and went for breakfast at 6.30 a.m. Although they advertise breakfast from 6.30, it was nearer seven when everything was available. Luang Prabang seems a pretty laid-back sort of place.
Luang Prabang is a small town. It sits on the bank of the Mekong and a number of long concrete steps give access to the dozens of ferries which come and go. There’s at least one vehicle ferry to the opposite bank of the Mekong made by joining two ‘standard’ ferry hulls side-by-side, catamaran-style, with a transverse vehicle deck provided with ramps each side. The Khan River enters the Mekong here, but this now has a road bridge, carrying the road North to Pak Ou. There’s a small airport, served by modern, high-wing turboprops and some twin jets. The French built a number of colonial-style buildings, in a very restrained style, and these remain in use – other buildings are a mixture of wood and bamboo and the ubiquitous reinforced concrete. There’s a fair building boom going on to provide more facilities for tourists. The town was made a World Heritage site because of around 30 temples dotted around the town. Although the sites are hundreds of years old, most of the original temples were badly damaged or destroyed during the sacking of the town in the nineteenth century. What remains is, inevitably, rather a pastiche of old and new, but quite attractively done.
I was picked up, as arranged, and the 'bus' (actually a very nice people carrier with about 8 seats) drives about one and a half miles to the town centre. The sun is shining and it's already quite hot. We first visit the former Royal Palace which is now a museum.
This visit gives some idea of the complex and unfortunate history of Laos, which I’ve not got my head round. Too small to be a ‘major player’ politically, Laos has been fought over for centuries by its neighbours Thailand and Cambodia and, more recently, by the ‘Great Powers’. The French had a long association with the country and they actually built the Palace we're visiting for King Sisavang Vong in 1904. Laos was regarded as an agreeable posting by the French diplomats. It was far enough from Paris that they were not greatly troubled by their masters and, for long periods, not a lot happened. In the middle of the twentieth century, all this changed and the French found themselves fighting a ‘hot war’ in the area. Following the crushing defeat at Dien Bien Phu in Viet Nam, the French left the area, hastily giving Laos independence. This ushered in a period of instability during which Russia, China and America were all involved. Laos is reputed to have received more American aid than any similar country and also more American bombs when the Americans decided that a ‘scorched earth’ policy would be more effective in dealing with the Communist threat. It’s not a pretty story. The present situation remains as muddled. There’s an uncrowned 'King', currently without powers in today’s vaguely socialist state. Through it all, Laos seems to muddle on.
Photography is not permitted inside the Museum. The major rooms have been over-decorated with the rather naïve ‘glass mosaics’ that seems to appeal to the Lao taste. One reception room has a series of paintings done in the 1930s illustrating the Lao lifestyle by what I would consider a rather indifferent French artist. The bedrooms of the King and Queen, by contrast, are large but spartan. The library has a nice collection of glass-fronted bookcases of simple design holding a pathetic collection of books, mainly worthy publications presented by whatever power was pretending allegiance at the time. There are paintings of various Royals by French or Russian artists.
Outside, there is a typically epic statue of the former King defending the consitution and displaying his peaceful intentions. The statue was provided by the Russians in the ‘60s, so I suppose the strange echoes of Josef Stalin are understandable. A splendid new temple, Wat Ho Pha Bang, is being decorated in the grounds of the museum, but it’s not consecrated yet. There’s also the ‘Royal Theatre’, although the word ‘Royal’ has been excised from the wooden sign pointing to it!
I’m surprised at how many tourists are around. This is the end of the low season, but we see groups of English-, French-, Italian- and Japanese-speakers, together with a fair number of young backpackers.
There is one genuine 16th century (in parts) Monastery complex – Wat Xieng Thong – which was spared during the sacking of the city. One of the temples features long water pipes or gutters, stored in the rafters. These are used during the ceremony of the washing of the Buddha image. As we exit the complex into a back street, there are large trays at the side of the road, covered with hundreds of pieces of buffalo meat being sun-dried. Further on, there are trays of rice cakes being similarly dried.
At the next Monastery complex we visit, the young novices are clustering around for their lunch, after which only drinks are permitted until the next day. Monasteries often have a pair of long, highly-decorated, elegant racing boats which are used in two festivals during the year, each paddled by about 20 rowers plus a cox. The autumn races took place a few days ago, but the boats are now returned to their boathouses and on view. I’m amused by the modern Drum Tower. In addition to the large drum on the first floor, the ground floor is occupied by a pair of wooden bells and a car.
Finally, we go to Wat Mai Suwannaphumaham which, like most temples, is crowded with multiple Buddha images of all styles and sizes. After the sacking of the temples, the people rescued as many of the Buddha images as possible and they have been placed in the remaining Wats. The bus drops me off at the hotel so I can have a shower, a rest and maybe lunch (I settle for a pear and a cup of tea), arranging to pick me up at 2.0 p.m.
When I’m picked up, we go down to one of the landing places on the river, where one of the passenger boats is moored, full of villagers waiting to be taken up river to their homes. They will have come from their villages early this morning with produce to sell in the market and now they’re ready to go home. But the boat owner is waiting a while, in the hope of getting even more passengers. A similar-sized boat approaches and moors next to the passenger boat. That’s just for me. The guide and I have to step across the passenger boat to reach our boat, crewed by the boat owner and his young son and we set off upstream for a landing place on the opposite bank. We can see glimpses of life on some of the many passenger ferries, which are also home to the owner and his family. There’s one of the larger motorised barges which I’m told bring goods from China and go downstream to Vietnam.
Our boat is powered by a Toyota petrol engine towards the rear – I suspect it’s an adapted automotive engine. I can’t work out what seem to be some sort of home-made remote engine controls (gear? clutch?) set in the floor up at the front, where the boat driver sits. Steering is by a car steering wheel turning a wooden cone, around which are wrapped a couple of turns of nylon rope. The ends of the rope disappear and must be connected to the rudder There’s also a throttle lever which looks as if it works over a Bowden cable.
Soon, the guide and I are dropped of at a set of concrete landing steps leading up to a village of wood and bamboo houses. This side of the river is noticeably more rural. Looking across the river, there’s a good view of the landing steps at which I arrived on the Luang Say boat less than 24 hours ago. On the inland side is Wat Long Khoun, an 18th century monastery, partially restored under a French initiative. The temple features trapezoidal window and door openings and wall paintings inside and out. I’m told that one monk and one novice are currently in residence. It’s an enchanting spot and very peaceful.
We then take a footpath which leads over a bridge and past a stand of young teak trees to an adjacent village. Here, an exhausting climb leads up to Wat Chom Phet. This time, we’re accompanied by three young girls who have little to do on this hot Sunday afternoon. Once again, the restoration, currently incomplete, has been financed by the French. It’s a beautiful location and the views across the Mekong are stunning. I gingerly descend the steps to the footpath where there are trays of fruit drying, then we go down to the river past a number of modest wood and bamboo houses. They may be modest, but a number sport satellite dishes – not the discreet antenna possible in Europe but the much larger dish necessary in South-East Asia. Our boat is waiting here for us so, once we’re aboard, we set off, this time with the young boy at the helm.
Back in the main town, we make our way to the foot of Phou Si. This is the hill on the opposite side of main street from the Museum, with 300 steps to reach the small gold-painted temple at the summit. I manage it, and the view makes the climb worthwhile.
I take pictures of an aircraft landing and fail to locate my hotel (until the guide points it out). I visit the (modern) temple – the first I’ve seen in Laos with LED lights adorning the Buddha image. It’s 4.00 p.m. and, from various monasteries around the town, the drums start to beat. I don’t understand the criteria for the days on which the drums are played but, apparently, played at 4.00 a.m. and 4.00 p.m., their one function was to let the people know what time it was. This haunting sound echoes across the town for ten minutes. Descending from the hill was considerably easier than getting up and soon the bus delivers me back to the hotel.
Around 4.30 p.m., they close a section of the main street and turn it into a Night Handicraft Market. The hotel runs a shuttle bus in connection, so I take the 5.40 p.m. service into town (I’m the only passenger) to have a look. It’s just getting dark and a lot of the stalls are not yet set up. I’m intrigued by the series of snaking electric cables underfoot which allow most stalls to illuminate their stock with a single, naked light bulb, until someone trips over the cable, which seems to happen fairly frequently. Most stalls use a standard aluminium collapsible awning with a red top. The stall holders tend to underestimate the height of their foreign visitors, so I witnessed foreign men rubbing their heads after striking the aluminium frame followed by diminuitive stall holders trying to raise the roof a couple more inches. In the various side alleys, the locals continue the sale of fresh produce and the tiny eating places find plenty of takers for their wares. A lot of these stalls seem to have very little in the way of artificial lighting, so I’m not quite sure how they manage, but it all seems to work. I explore a little more of the town in the dark as intermittent sheet lightning and thunder starts. I make my way back to the Post Office, in time to catch the 7.00 p.m. return shuttle bus to the hotel. Just before the bus arrives, light rain starts, which later becomes heavy. I timed my expedition just right to avoid a soaking!
Back at the hotel, I take dinner in the covered part of the terrace of the Phou Savanh Restaurant – the thunder, lightning and rain continue. I enjoy homegrown watercress cream soup with proper French bread followed by steamed fresh water fish fillet with a saffron risotto and lemon butter sauce accompanied by Nature’s Son et Lumiere show. The hotel is on a hill above the town and the terrace commands a broad view of the sky and the distant mountains. The temple of Phou Si is in the middle of the visual field, floodlit by courtesy of the hotel and appears to float in the dark sky, until the lightning silhouettes the hill and the distant mountains. Finally, at about 8.30 p.m. the lights of the hotel flicker but stay on. The floodlighting of Phou Si is extinguished, to come back on about ten minutes later. An eerie experience. I’m not surprised to discover that the internet has stopped working following this demonsration of Nature’s power. Incidentally, I had the Duo of Catalane Cream and Chocolate for dessert, then returned to my room to sleep soundly.
I've been an electronics engineer for over 57 years and I'm interested in travel, history, architecture, the industrial revolution, science, railways and, well, lots of things. I believe in what one of my heroes, Richard Feynman, called "The Pleasure of Finding Things Out".
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