Following with interest Martin
  stay safe regards Derek

Tesco Extra Leyland- every time we have a heatwave their chiller cabinets pack up so lots of stuff just not available   

Me again!
Mum is house bound and has dementia. She had a small fall and broke her glasses so I booked a home appointment with Outside Clinic Home Healthcare whom claim to provide NHS services. They were aware of mums condition and were to ring me an hour before they were due to arrive so I could be there.
I'd heard nothing by 4pm so rang mum only to discover the optician was already there so I whizzed round. He was just finishing having sold mum insurance and 2 pairs of glasses for £755!
I politely suggested he call his office to cancel the order and refund mum then sent him on his way. What a crook.
I have just ordered the identical glasses from Glasses Direct for £46.

The Tale of the Lost Railway (Part – 5)

I had arranged a three night  stay at a guest house on the outskirts of the little hamlet of Baskerville, a  village nestling quietly on the very edge of Dartmoor some nine miles north of Moretonhampstead and five south of Okehampton.

My previous visit to the area had been, as you know,  some  eighteen years ago. Aged eight, I holidayed there with an aunt and uncle but they have long since moved away from the area  so the guest house it was to be this time around.

On the Saturday morning I was up early, catching the 7-45 train from Teignmouth to Newton Abbot, a journey lasting  some eight minutes which followed the River Teign for most of the time.

This was a local service from Exeter St Davids to Kingswear hauled by a large prairie tank which accelerated rapidly way from Teignmouth.

On arrival at Newton I had a twenty minute wait for my train up to Moretonhampstead which comprised small prairie number 4554 and and two rather dilapidated  non corridor carriages.

Right on time at 8-16 we were away, soon passing the racecourse to my left before we curved fairly sharply away from the main and onto the branch line.

The journey, which took me via Teigngrace Halt, Heathfield, Brimley Halt, Bovey Tracey , Hawkmoor and Lusleigh took me through some delightful scenery. It took around sixtry five minutes to cover the sixteen or so miles.


My train photographed passing the small goods yard just beyond Bovey Tracey station with the Stover Canal in the forground

The station stops were, to say the least, relaxed  affairs with business carried out in the unhurried style so typical of rural branch line railways across the country. At most of the stations a few passengers, many  of whom were on first name terms with the railway staff,  alighted or boarded and a wide variety of goods were handled, carefully and efficiently,  by the station and train crew.

It was just approaching 9-20 when  my train pulled into Moretonhampstead, the northern terminus of the line.

Around a dozen or so passengers, me included, alighted into bright morning sunshine. The temperature was   an  agreeable 68 degrees as I  wandered up to the end of the platform to thank the driver and fireman for helping to make the journey pleasant and relaxing.

The locomotive would run around its train ready for the return journey at 10-05 , a process that I  determined to watch but, of course, I had plenty of time. Indeed the footplate crew made it their first job to visit the signalman in his box, no doubt for a chat and a brew leaving their locomotive simmering gently in the station.
This allowed me time to wander right to the very end of the platform in order to look for any trace of the tunnel which I recalled so clearly from my younger days.

The tracks  extended beyond the station to a small cattle dock and goods siding then curved slightly to the right towards a steepish hill. Surely a tunnel was the only way a railway could pass this hill, an expensive option that no doubt contributed to the railway beyond Moretonhampstead not being built.

My view, however, was blocked by two heavy wooden gates with an eight foot high fence either side. Those gates were firmly closed and padlocked across the single track with a large sleeper chained tightly across the track.

If a tunnel did exist it must be beyond those gates. I determined to investigate further over the course of the next day or so.

I was lost in my thoughts when a whistle from number 4554 signalled the start of her run round movement which I observed with interest. Right on time, just a few minutes later, the train was away with the locomotive this time running bunker first.

After leaving the station and surrendering my ticket to the smartly uniformed collector I consulted the omnibus timetable, pasted to the wall. It transpired, to my delight, that a Western National service to Baskerville was due shortly.

At 10-35 a green coloured Bedford SB arrived in the station forecourt. I was the only passenger to board and joined two others for the short journey.

"Whur be goin' ?" enquired the jovial conductor to whom I replied, "Single to  Baskerville please" .

"That'll be tuppece please but what you be goin' there for.  There baint much there for a young lad like thee".

I explained that I would be staying at the guest house whilst exploring the area for a day or two.
"Ahh, thas ol' Mrs 'Arris' place you'll be stayin' at. She's a bit on the stern side mind so thee besn't do anythin' ta upset 'er".

It wasn't long  before the bus slowed down and the conductor said to me "This'll be thy stop lad".

I looked up and down the street which was, it has to be said, rather bleak. There were a few old cottages, a small shop and a pub to my left. To the right was a terrace of little houses with a few larger ones just beyond but very little else other than what appeared to be. a large rambling farmhouse and yard in  the distance.

I set out in search of the guest house. The lady had said on the telephone that it was just past the pub so I began walking in that direction noting that the pub was called The Baskerville Arms. It looked just as bleak as the rest of the buildings.

As I walked I noticed a narrow tree lined lane off to my left.  I peered down the lane. About a hundred and fifty yards along there were large gates which appeared to be locked tightly shut. Those gates appeared to me to rather resemble those at Moretonhampstead station.

I thought little more of this as I approached the guest house which was named, a little disconcertingly, Wolf's Lair.

I knocked the door, with some trepidation,  to be greeted by a lady, probably in her early sixties, with straggly  unkempt grey hair and dark steely grey, deep set, eyes. She was wearing a long black dress with what appeared to be wellington boots on her feet.

"Who be you?", she rasped  by way of greeting.

To be continued.......

Be careful with lead - aside from it being nasty stuff and also causing problems if you want to re-sell the model it will expand and react with some glues and the like. Some of the other weights are a bit safer.

If you've got the space then 3D print and weights works ok. If you've not got the space then 3D printing in metal is an option but not a cheap one. Also an option is to 3D print a master and use it to make white metal castings.

They lived life on the edge with that game

At about 77 minutes or so Messi basically said, "Let's go!"

That was amazing. 

Quote from: PLD on Yesterday at 10:40:51 AMCongratulations BELGIUM  

(Apologies to our US members, but I'm sure it's the result most neutrals wanted...)

It's the result that fair play demanded! Muharemovic is lucky to be walking still after Balogun's cynical foul.

Ooo! That Scenery is wonderful @port perran

Oi. That was like JV - vs - Varsity.

Completely outmatched.