Thursday, 24 October 2019

Trains, Trains and Trains

(Disclaimer: Joking aside, I fully understand the risks/dangers involved in these adventures and do so in the full knowledge of what could happen. I don't encourage or condone and I accept no responsibility for anyone else following in my footsteps. Under UK law, trespass without force is a civil offence. I never break into a place, I never photograph a place that is currently occupied, as this would be morally wrong and intrusive, I never take any items and I never cause any damage, as such no criminal offences have been committed in the making of this blog. I will not disclose locationI leave the building as I find it and only enter to take photographs for my own pleasure and to document the building.

Choo Choo!

Today I'm somewhere near Oswestry, a small town in North Shropshire that had a thriving railway in the 1860s. The passenger trains ran up until 1966, or 1968 depending on the source. Right away we hit upon a source of fury. Fury, I tell you! All of my sources for this have thrown conflicting dates at me for just about everything. This includes the years that stuff opened, the years that stuff closed, and most of the stuff in between. I'll be referring to some dates by the decade, just to be deliberately vague and not specify one particular year, and hopefully be correct. 
Having said that, some conflicting dates are decades apart, so let's just agree it was at some point in the past, after Churchill was prime minister, but before Bojo. That'll do.

At some point in the past, before Churchill and after King Henry VIII, Oswestry station was connected to roughly three hundred miles of track, out towards Whitchurch in the East, Wrexham in the north, and also West to Aberystwyth and Pwllheli. For years the disused train carriages could be found at the old Oswestry station, but it wasn't until they were long gone that I developed an interest in what was lost, and began writing a blog. Luckily, miles beyond Oswestry the tracks continue, albeit unused, for now, and along them one can come across a number of rusty old beautys.


This contraption is a track repair and maintenance machine, known in Trainglish as a GP-TRAMM, which is funnily enough an acronym for General Purpose Track Repair And Maintenance Machine.
See? Trainglish is easy.

The Tramm is a multi-tool chassis, capable of tool storage for a variety of jobs. It can lay track, clean track, straighten track, remove track, and basically various other things related to doing stuff with tracks. 

This one was built by the Austrian manufacturers Plasser & Theurer in the 1980s. Presumably they used this machine to repair or even replace some of the old tracks, and then just left it here. However despite its condition, I wouldn't be at all surprised if it was still functional,




As for the train line itself, this one originally ran from 1866, connecting quarries in Wales and North Shropshire to Stoke-on-Trent. It was intended to reach all the way to Porthmadog but the project fell short on funds. This was to be a recurring pattern, as it was notorious at the time for being the most expensive non-metropolitan railway, forever falling into debt and consequentially soon becoming run down, and something of a health and safety nightmares. Nevertheless, the line boldly opened to passengers in 1870.

Back then it must have been pretty convenient. The line provided access to some of the more remote villages of the Shropshire/Wales border. One could get a train from Oswestry to Shrewsbury via a small border village called Llanymynech. It certainly sounds scenic!

However, it's said that the "true" incentive for this line opening was to access the lime kilns in the north and supply limestone traffic to and from the quarry. That particular function opened in 1872, and joined onto this main line.


The Tramm still has hard hats worn by the crew, which is strange. Its windows are smashed and it's been scribbled on a bit, but nothings been stolen.




There's some graffiti here. It says "Blaze." A few feet down the train, it's written again.


What does it mean? Congratulations, you can walk a few feet. Give yourself a pat on the back.








There used to be a station only a few feet from the Tramm. It opened in 1870. No trace remains of it today although photos of it from the 1970s and 1980s display it as a run down derelict mess. I have here a photo of it from 1962, looking down on it from the bridge.

(Picture not mine, obviously)

 Given the massive expense of the train line, it closed in 1880 due to safety reasons, making it something of a rarity. It was very unusual for a train line to close in the Victorian Era. For the passengers in their rural communities, it must have been pretty irritating, but for the quarry owners it was a travesty, as they moved out their stone via rail, and so they began talks with other railway companies, hoping that someone somewhere could reopen the line.

Attempts were made throughout the 1880s and 1890s. Shropshire Railways tried but they were pretty difficult to get on with, and fell out with contractors all the time over legal disputes. The train line didn't see life again until the early 1900s, and even then, it was a light railway.

Those of you imagining someone shining a light down the tracks and the passengers riding on photons, don't be daft. It sounds fun, but it's also too amazing to be real. Here in the real world, a light railway only carries light traffic.

The train station pictured above was refurbished and reopened in 1903. Two more, just down the tracks in either direction, were also opened in 1904 and 1903, each lasting until 1951. The line was nowhere near as far reaching as it had once been, but it did provide access to Oswestry from as far out as Llangynog in Wales. Llanrhaedr is out that way, and it has a pretty waterfall. Now the people of Oswestry could catch a train to go and see it. At least, if the time table wasn't too inconvenient.

And let me tell you, the timetable from 1922 was rather peculiar. If one wanted to catch the train from here to Oswestry, one would have a choice between the earliest at 10:24am, or two later ones at 2:34pm and 6:43pm. So it wasn't exactly frequent. If it was a Wednesday or a Saturday, there was an earlier train at 8:10am, and the later two trains ran at 1:47pm and 7:18pm instead, but basically if one were a country bumpkin looking to get a job in the town, their daily commute was just a little bit shit.


The train line is actually quite pretty as nature reclaims it. All seems quite peaceful, but don't be fooled. This tranquil atmosphere has heard many a scream.

It's possible to follow the rails for miles in many directions, although past Oswestry they will join onto Gobowen, and that station is still active.


 The remains of a goods yard can be found along the track, apparently all part of the old quarries that used to operate here. This particular one was closed by British Rail in 1984, but dotted around one can still find the remains of train carriages. They have no wheels. Some don't even have walls. It's something of a train graveyard.





There are some buildings left over, but they're all sealed up.


Nevertheless, it seems that people have been coming here.



Signs warn that everything is gone, and that the building has been secured to prevent access by children, etc. Luckily, some of the buildings could still be accessed.


Hey look, its Ted Bundy!
Actually, I think the head looks a bit like Boris Johnson, but I'm probably brainwashed because I see his weird face all over the place at the moment, due to his media coverage. At least nobody can say that the medias giving us unrealistic beauty standards...
Speaking of standards, my graffiti standards have been raised considerably by my adventures in Germany, which I talk about in my international blog. You don't see Bojo sucking off Ted Bundy in Germany.


The chairs laid around the table is interesting. The quarry is also nearby, but it's now flooded.


I'm sure in the summer it could be a nice spot for a swim, but also pretty dangerous so do so at your own risk.

Further along the tracks, things get a little challenging.


I can still feel the rails and the sleepers beneath my feet, so the track is still there. Fortunately it wasn't overgrown for too long.


During the war, train services were reduced, and these reductions remained after the war was finished. A timetable from 1949 shows that only two trains ran each day, one in the morning and one in the evening, and still changeable on Wednesdays and Saturdays. To compensate, a regular bus service ran into Oswestry so that was okay for the people. For the railway, gloomy times were ahead.

British Rails took over the lines in 1948 but by then it was pretty much a downward slope. Several of the smaller stations closed in 1951, and in 1960 some flooding in Wales damaged the tracks and restricted services. The final blow came from Dr Robert Beeching, whose report in the 1960s saw the closure of 2,363 stations across the UK, as well as some 8000km of railway line, mostly in rural areas like this. The line closed to passengers in 1964, but remained active for the quarries.

Some sources say that the line closed to quarry traffic in the 1960s, while other sources say that British Railways closed the line for good in 1988 when the limestone quarry closed. Whatever the truth, it remained derelict for many years, and most of it still is now. But there is hope for the old train line.


Right next to the tracks is an old fireplace, which I presume is the last remaining chunk of an old signal box, given its proximity to the rails.



Check it out! More trains!

So while miles and miles of tracks are barely traversible jungle dotted with the occasional Tramm, and stuff like this, there is a heritage organisation that is restoring the line in parts. The line between the two villages, Llynclys and Pant actually runs trains now, but the original Llynclys station, which operated from 1860 til 1965, is now a private dwelling, and it garden over the old trackbed somewhat obstructs the heritage group from re-establishing a line up to Oswestry, which is a shame. But I have heard that the heritage company are circling like vultures, and should that house ever become vacant again they'll swoop in.

From what I understand, there are plans to open up larger chunks of the old railway, right the way out to Llangynog, but sadly no further due to housing and a caravan park being in the way.



Lines aside, many of the trains are also in severe need of restoration too, but it seems that this "train graveyard" isn't entirely abandoned. Someone cares about these old contraptions.




Sadly none of the coaches were unlocked, which is a shame. I very much looked forward to seeing the vintage interior.






These tracks actually end in someones garden, which is pretty funny. The property boundary is fenced off, but the tracks continue for a few feet before ending. I quite like the idea of having a garden with a chunk of railway line in it.


Meanwhile this chunk of railway ends right by the old lime kilns, which I understand operates a heritage centre for all these old trains. The heritage centre was established in 2009 but as of 2016 its website has not been updated. When I came here there was nobody around, nobody at the gate, and just a load of old trains and rail lines. The office and visitor centre on site was similarly run down, locked up and empty, so I'm not sure what's happening there. Obviously just wandering in via the train tracks awarded me access to an area that I presume used to, or intends to, have actual visitors and perhaps guided tours. Right now, it's all empty of life. It's just me and the trains.



The actual lime kilns are shielded by this big train, which I presume is the choice of the heritage centre to guard the lime kilns from potential guests climbing in. Health and Safety, and all that. Luckily, I was free to make my own risk assessment. I don't think millions of years of evolution transpired just so that we could put ourselves in bubblewrap.


These are allegedly the tallest lime kilns in the country, and they were built by a man called Mr France in 1870, to service the quarry.


For those who don't know what a lime kiln is, that's okay because I didn't know either! So I looked up what they actually do. Looks like we're both getting an education.

A lime kiln is used to produce Quicklime, which was used to make plaster and mortar for construction purposes. Basically to make it, they have to burn limestone here in these little caves at temperatures of around 900°C, although typically they heat it up to 1000°C for a quicker development.

I've actually found this photo from 1961 which shows the lime kilns on the right, and the train line still in use on the left. 

(Picture not mine, obviously)

Annoyingly the source of this picture gives the date of the line closing at 1971, which is somewhere in between the two  conflicting dates I have so far. Still, these old lime kilns made an interesting sight.








Look at this! Propped up on display is this cute little cart from the old industrial days. It seems rather counterproductive to have it on display between the kilns and the carriage, where nobody can see it.



There's a smaller one here which has, intentionally or not, become a plant pot.



This train was built in York in 1962, and is an Electric Multiple Unit, known in Trainglish as an Emu. It was apparently the first train in the UK to reach a top speed of 100mph. The Emu was designed for London and Essex routes, where they remained until they were withdrawn in 1994, and replaced with newer models. Apparently seven of these redundant trains ended up being taken to Manchester where they worked on the Crewe and Birmingham route, which means this probably called at Shrewsbury a few times, before finally getting withdrawn for good in 2000.

Of those seven retired Emu's, this is one of two survivors, put to use as a signaling development train during the testing of Virgin Rails Pendolino trains up until 2004. Following that it was kept in storage until the heritage company purchased it in 2009. So this train has had quite the career, and has spanned the country.


The heritage centres star attraction seems to be this train, which I understand is a Ruston & Hornsby diesel commonly referred to as a Crabtree. It's currently parked at a makeshift wooden platform, but it doesn't appear to have moved in some time.


There's also these wonderful contraptions, which I'm sure must have fantastic stories behind their creation. I've never seen anything quite like them.



Check it out! It's a bike that runs on rails! Technically, I guess it's not a bike if it has four wheels, but still, it's bloody cool! If I owned that garden which had the end of an old railway line on it, I'd get one of these! In theory, if one was to clean up the tracks a bit and trim the grass, they could ride this from their back garden all the way to Oswestry, and it would be totally cool because there would be no other rail traffic. And if there was rail traffic, one could do a totally badass leap to the side of the tracks as the train smashes into the little bike. It would be amazing!


I thought this was a shed at first, but no, it's also a train carriage, albeit a very old one. In fact it's estimated to date back to the 1850s! The notice on the side announces the heritage sites plans to restore it, and hopefully put it back on wheels at some point.


As I entered, I was careful not to touch anything. This old beauty is fragile.


Scrawled on the wall, someone has written "Wednesbury Slag." I can't make out the final word though. I suspect the term "slag" is being used in its truest form, for smelting, rather than insulting someone from Wednesbury.

However, as appealing as photographing disused trains is, the fact that this was a heritage site made me feel rather cheeky nosing around, when ideally one should be paying at heritage events so that funds can go to the restoration and upkeep. I'm very interested in history, including the history of the UKs once prosperous railway industry. Hopefully, in the near future, the tracks I've shown here today will be cleaned up and reopened, and the trains will be fixed up and running little heritage routes.

It's something to look forward to.

Next time, I'll be blogging again on my international blog, and then I'm looking at an abandoned house here in Shropshire. Things are getting exciting, and you should probably pay attention. So, follow my Instagram, like my Facebook and follow my Twitter. And of course, share the blog.

Thanks for reading!

Sunday, 6 October 2019

Rooftops of Shrewsbury: Pride Hill, Then and Now

(Disclaimer: Joking aside, I fully understand the risks/dangers involved in these adventures and do so in the full knowledge of what could happen. I don't encourage or condone and I accept no responsibility for anyone else following in my footsteps. Under UK law, trespass without force is a civil offence. I never break into a place, I never photograph a place that is currently occupied, as this would be morally wrong and intrusive, I never take any items and I never cause any damage, as such no criminal offences have been committed in the making of this blog. I leave the building as I find it and only enter to take photographs for my own pleasure and to document the building.

This is just a quick rooftop blog.

It's been nine years since I started doing silly things and going to silly places, and much to everyones disapointment, I'm not dead yet. I've been neglecting the local blog though, to work on my international one. In fact I recently published my first blog post that wasn't in the UK. Best of all, I funded the trip through the blog. In fact I renewed my passport solely on funds generated by people leaving negative comments. It's my way of taking the negative and turning it into a positive. I simply decided that when someone wants to piss on my picnic, I'll just get a bigger picnic. The truth is, I do what I do for my own enjoyment, and it's never at anyones expense. Its great to be at a point where I can do it internationally.

Meanwhile back in Shrewsbury our most-traveled central street, Pride Hill, has had some cosmetic changes, and while everyone was complaining about it, I realised that with my nine years of rooftop photographs, I suddenly have a bunch of historic shots that show the town as it was. And since people are big on nostalgia, I thought I'd showcase a few rooftop views of Pride Hill as it is now alongside rooftop views of Pride Hill from 2010-2012.

The criticism that was aimed at the Pride Hill revamp was both confusing and hilarious. Some people seemed to think the world was ending. Among the many complaints were that the bins were too close to the seats, and also that the seats were too low down, and had sharp edges, so people would get injured. So I might as well start with this photo of people writhing in agony on Pride Hill-


Here's a shot from the same location, a few years prior-


You know, I actually prefer the new look, with the grey floor rather than the red brick. I understand the comparison in the pictures isn't perfect. The truth is, I very rarely go rooftopping during the day anymore. It's far too likely that I'll be spotted during the day. I'm six foot two and look like a Disney villain!

Having said that, I took this one recently. It depicts the front of the Pride Hill Shopping Centre and a bunch of people getting on with their day.



Hmm... One thing that does occur to me is that between 2010 and 2019, all of the anti-pigeon spikes have gone.



These shots are great. I pretty much got them from almost the exact same position, and look, the bottom one has Maccies in it!



If you notice on the "before" pictures, Pride Hill has a couple of circles in the brickwork that mark where these big circular brick flowerbeds used to be. I'm not sure why those were taken away. They were quite nice. Sadly they were taken away before I started taking photographs from the rooftops so I don't have any old shots of them.

As you can see, the curved benches that people said were too sharp are replacing pointy hexagonal ones.



I actually really love the seating area beneath these trees. I haven't got an old shot from this angle, but I do have one from the roof of Waitrose across the street.


I wonder what they did with that lamp...


Oh, there it is!


This shot from 2010 shows Waitrose as a big derelict Burger King, and Burton where Cotswold is.



And in this shot, from around 2011 shows the Burger King being fixed up to become Waitrose, walled up from the world and looking a bit hideous. Similarly run down is the hexagonal bench, which has had an entire chunk of it removed.





An additional little something that I had not noticed, because it's pretty insignificant, is that in my rooftop shots from 2010, Barclays actually has "Barclays" written on it in big blue lettering.


Why was that taken down?

By far my most favourite shot to get of Pride Hill has always been overlooking the entrance to the Darwin Shopping Centre, and I've been up to get that same shot numerous times over the years.


As it appears today.


As it appeared about a year or so ago, maybe.


As it appeared prior to Waitrose and Cotswold opening.


And here's how it looked in the Christmas of 2010. This was before they had a giant reindeer called Shrewdolf, and instead stuck a statue of a creepy snowman there to smile menacing at everyone to faciliate a fast digestion of their Christmas dinner.

To conclude, I think the changes to Pride Hill aren't that bad. I think a lot of people are change resistant, and ultimately this leads only to making oneself miserable because we live in a world of impermanence. Pride Hills flooring aside, these pictures show the changes of businesses occupying these buildings, the completely missed removal of the Barclays sign, and much else that the keen of eye will see. That's not to say that it isn't fun to look back with nostalgia. There are future generations who won't know it as it was, in much the same way I have no memory of it before it was pedestrianised. I'm pretty fortunate to have been doing this over a period of time, and to live in the era where such things can be documented.

Next blog post is a cold war facility in Germany, and then after that it will be a nuclear bunker. In the meantime, share the blog, like my Facebook page, Follow my Instagram, and Follow my Twitter.
Thanks for reading!

Wednesday, 4 September 2019

St Johns Hole

(Disclaimer: Joking aside, I fully understand the risks/dangers involved in these adventures and do so in the full knowledge of what could happen. I don't encourage or condone and I accept no responsibility for anyone else following in my footsteps. Under UK law, trespass without force is a civil offence. I never break into a place, I never photograph a place that is currently occupied, as this would be morally wrong and intrusive, I never take any items and I never cause any damage, as such no criminal offences have been committed in the making of this blog. I leave the building as I find it and only enter to take photographs for my own pleasure and to document the building.

Recently I was made aware, via a journalist on Twitter, of a subterranean chamber in Shrewsbury that had been hidden for centuries, but was accidentally uncovered by some road works.
As you can imagine, I was suddenly twice my size. Nothing gets me excited quite like news of a secret underground structure that I can have a nose around in, providing nobody catches me.
News that the council, in their infinite wisdom, wanted to fill it in with concrete gave me a sense of urgency like no other, and even though we live in a town notorious for flooding, even though our summer has consisted of ten minute blips before a day or two of rainfall, I made it my priority to take a look.

I've named it St Johns Hole, because it's on a street named St John's Hill,

Its wordplay but watch as it offends religious bigots, as I come inside St Johns Hole!


The exterior photo was taken during the day, but it was under the cover of darkness that I sought to access St Johns Hole. It was actually pouring down with rain when I got here, which is hardly ideal, but I wasn't sure I'd get the chance again. I had to do this while the opportunity was there. It just meant that slipping into St Johns Hole was going to be a pretty sloppy experience.

It was dark, and I couldn't even see into the hole, nevermind determine whether it was something I could climb back out of. I had to just run on blind faith, and drop in. Some might say that's brave, that would be largely inaccurate. I'm not brave, I'm just stupid and lucky.


Here's the interior of the hole, looking out.


It's a bit of an architectural mishmash down here, the ceiling clearly made out of Georgian bricks, but the walls obviously medieval. This isn't so surprising. By the Georgian era the medieval ruins of the town walls had outlived their purpose and would have been plundered for building supplies. However, according to Victorian maps, these medieval blocks are right on the site of one of the old town gates. My source speculated that this was the remains of Wheeler Gate or Quarry Gate. However, a quick peek at the old Victorian maps of Shrewsbury shows this area as the Site of Shoplatch Gate. This makes sense, given that the street beyond it does lead onto Shoplatch.


I'm not entirely sure why one side is painted black, but that is the side that faces the nearest house, which was built in 1766. The towns archives allegedly have a painting of this house from that era which depict it next to Wall Lane, which was a little path that used to run along the inside of the old town walls.

Its generally speculated that this is the remains of Wall Lane, built over in Georgian times. Allegedly beneath the muddy ground, one can find the original cobbled floor.


 The second chamber is a lot narrower, but it also dispenses with the medieval blocks. It is further away from the site of the Shoplatch gate though.


 At the far end, black paint has drawn a smiley face with eerie crosses for eyes on what appears to be a bricked up doorway. Right next to that is a set of stairs leading upwards. Presumably once they would have led to street level, but now there's a pavement in the way.



But what are these chambers, and what were they for? I want to say that they are the cellar of a building that is no longer extant, but Victorian maps don't make any mention of these chambers, or any building that might have stood above them. Whatever this was, it was forgotten about by the 1800s.

Should this be filled in? It's worth noting that it's underneath the pavement, not the road, and my source journalist had an interesting idea of covering it with glass so that tourists could see it. I personally would like to see it preserved.  But whatever its ultimate fate, I think what's important is that it gets documented while it is open. It's tedious to access, and the scramble out was hilariously lacking in grace, but I couldn't just let it go.

To conclude, it's amazing that some mundane road works have uncovered such a secret. Yes, it's small, and it's true purpose might have been something perfectly ordinary and uninteresting like an ice house or a wine cellar, but the fact remains that it was underground and nobody knew about it. Doesn't it just tease the imagination? What else is beneath our feet, waiting to be discovered?

Thats it for this blog post. My next one will be a derelict school on my international blog. It might even be two schools. However, I'm also playing with the idea of doing then/now rooftop views of Shrewsbury seeing as it's almost been ten years since I started doing this, and I want to celebrate the fact that I haven't died. In the meantime, Like my Facebook page, Follow my Instagram and Follow my Twitter.

Thanks for reading!