The ancient art of Kintsugi

 

Always aware that Melbridge Dock might have to be carried out to the car when rain was falling, I brought home a plastic bag to enclose the layout from work. It arrived wrapped around a filing cabinet, delivered to the Ministry of Agriculture in the mid 1990s. 

Since then, the bag has travelled many thousands of miles, and performed its role admirably. Along the way, it's picked up a few battle scars. 

Repairs have been effected using gaffer tape. Not pretty, but effective. In Kintsugi, the Japanese art of making and celebrating repairs, they use gold, but my budget doesn't run to that. 

In 2026, the bag is really looking a bit sad. Some of the tape has peeled off, but I can't bring myself to do the sensible thing and throw it away. The internet would surely furnish me with a replacement, but I think it might be unlucky to replace it. 

So, more tape it is. I wonder if orange would be better than silver? 

Fiddle yard envy

 

I felt a pang of envy at Doncaster. 

Waiting to get started with a photo shoot on the Friday evening, I watched the guys putting stock in the fiddle yard, and remembered when that was me.

Back in the days when I was an exhibitor. You turned up, moved the layout to your allotted space and set up. The layout was your little world for the duration of the show. You were responsible for everything in that world, but nothing else.  

I'm not really sure what I yearned for at that moment. Maybe things were simpler then. As a regular exhibitor, you went through the same actions at every show. As long as things went well, it was a whole load of fun. Playing trains to an audience, being told what you've built is amazing. Sometimes being asked interesting questions about the prototype, or how you've made a particular model.  

Dunno. But I definitely felt it.  

2025 - Review of the year

Two decades of my rambling! That's an awful lot of posts, 7137 to be precise. Lots of words, quite a few misspelt, but hopefully, plenty of inspiration along the way. 

2025 saw me add another 365 to the list, according to Blogger. Did I really manage an entire year without a break? It seems unlikely, but we can't argue with computers.  

Stats, according to Google Analytics, are 380 visitors a day. Statcounter says 343 - take your pick, but both are up on last year. I wonder if AI spiders are busy reading this stuff and messing with the numbers? If so, then I worry for the state of that industry!

Advertising is still hopeless, but then Google controls this, and unsurprisingly, doesn't want to tilt things in favour of content creators. Fortunately, I'm not in the game of chasing numbers, but talking to those who do, it's a real worry. It would still be nice if you clicked on the adverts occasionally though. 

The usual project recap. Garratts, railcars etc. that are briefly mentioned each year have made no progress, nor has the Beetle. This might change. My sister bought me membership of the Classic VW Owners Club, and I'm hoping they can give me a lead on someone to do the work. 

Talking of Beetles, this year's big project was a Tamiya Sand Scorcher. 

I really enjoyed this project - a dream build I've wanted to do for many years. The finished model looks fantastic, and works well too. 

Apart from this, I built a Brandbright wagon kit. 

The project could have stalled for want of wheels, but thanks to a couple of generous offers, I was soon back on track (pun intended as always). 

One I had forgotten, a cheap plastic kit Mini, that found a home on my NG7 layout.  

 My 16mm scale goods train was completed by a Woodleigh Engineering flat wagon. 

 

 In 4mm scale, there was a Ratio SR van kit. 

But that's it. Quite how I managed to fill a year's worth of posts is a mystery to me. An even bigger mystery is why anyone is still reading, since I seem to do so little modelling!

The problem is that I'm so busy with work, that I don't have the time or enthusiasm for personal projects. I work, and then want to slump. According to ChatGPT, this is burnout, but working out how to tackle it is proving challenging. Not least because there is a part of my brain that considers beating myself up like this, something to be proud of! This is, apparently, a common symptom too. To be honest, without this blog, I'm not sure if I'd ever get anything done. The desire to generate posts forces me to do things that I enjoy, once I get started. 

Anyway, off the workbench, I need to mention a bit of travelling. 

First up, a city break to Lisbon.

Here, I rode the wonderful tramcars, and also all but the most modern funiculars. A fascinating place, that I want to revisit one day with my camera. Those four-wheel cars creeping around narrow streets and up and down hills, are simply amazing, and so photogenic. (Photos here)

Then it was time for the Isle of Man,

Yes, it was the enthusiasts' week, but that just means lots of weird trains to ride, and a chance to go behind the scenes. Mind you, whisper it, but the highlight was the Southern Agricultural Show! (Photos here) 

Finally, a solo trip to Germany to tick off a couple of major transport features. First, the Harz mountain railways. 

Lovely, but I enjoyed watching the trains more than riding on them. Mind you, the model village was an added bonus. (Photos here) 

The real highlight was a day on the Wuppertal monorail. Proper bucket list material!

From the moment I spotted one of the stations from the train I arrived on, I was excited. This is one of those trips I never thought I'd actually do. And I did it! (Photos here)

So, what does 2026 hold? I'd like to think that my mojo will return and I'll make a dent in the project pile, but I doubt I'll even scrape the surface of that lot. It's odd, but I've never bought a kit, or acquired a project, and not believed I'll one day get around to it. But then, when I'm wondering what to do next, very rarely does anything leap out at me with the same intensity I felt when adding it to the pile in the first place. 

Hopefully, I will keep blogging, and you will keep reading. Thanks to everyone who has followed my lack of progress this year. Wish me luck for the next one! 

Paper tickets

 

When I travel by train, I like to buy my tickets from the ticket office. Partly this is in an effort to ensure they see enough business to avoid another attempt to close them down, but also, because the machines have such dreadful usability, that it annoys the part of me that spent years trying to make websites operate for people, rather than for the organisation providing them. 

But, the last couple of times, I've no longer left clutching a cardboard ticket, but a flimsy paper one.  

My first thought was that the makers of Izal toilet paper, had found a new outlet for their stocks. The thickness and shiny surface are about the same. Absorbancy too I suspect, but I haven't tested this. 

Then I find that you no longer feed your ticket into the barrier to pass through. Instead, it's time to use the QR scanning device - the one I'd previously laughed at those with electronic tickets on their phones struggle with.  

As it happens, pushing the graphic in the scanner works much better than the phone version - I have a friend with a theory that the phone goes super-bright when asked to do this, and blinds the scanner.  No such problem with paper. 

This I realise, means that I get to keep my ticket. Card tickets are swallowed up by the barrier, something that annoys me as I like to write on the back of the ticket what it was for (meeting for beer, visiting, an exhibition, giving blood etc.) and put it in a box. Yes, I'm a bit wierd like that, but I bet I'm not the only one. (Go on, admit it in the comments)

Paper tickets get to come home with me, so I have my souvenier of my trip. Oddly then, this change is a win for me! OK, it's no Edmondson ticket, but not such a bad second-best. 

Time to get organised

 

The bank holiday has prompted me to do some sorting out of stuff. If I'm honest, I've been very lax, there hasn't been the time to get stuck into organising my life, and my enthusiasm for personal admin hasn't really been there for the last few months. 

All this means, an ever-increasing pile of clutter and chaos. 

My starting point was to put a picture I bought in Lisbon on the wall. This meant modifying both the hook it would hang on, and the loop on the back of the Ikea frame. 

One job that had been bugging me done, and with the burst of enthusiasm this gave me, I turned my attention to a box of "stuff" I acquired over a year ago when helping to clear out someone's modelling shed. It's a mixed box containing bits and pieces, all of which are not properly put away, or thrown away. 

At the bottom of the box were lots and lots of 45mm gauge metal wheels. 

Which would be good news if I hadn't bought four axles-worth of metal wheels to fit to a couple of superb wagon kits I've built for Garden Rail. Sorting things out a week earlier would have saved me over 30 quid...

The fallacy of "Future Phil"

 

I'm terrible for thinking that some time in the future, I'll pull it all together, and become a powerhouse at getting things done. No more looking at projects, and deadlines, and seeing them rush towards me. No, I'll not only get ahead, there will be time to dig in to the pile of kits and ideas that seems to grow all the time. 

Truth is this "Future Phil" is going to be just as useless as current day Phil. I'll still aquire projects with the vain hope that I'll crack on with them quickly. And those dealines will still catch me out. Sadly, I don't have the unique talent of Douglas Adams, who could say, "I love deadlines. I love the whooshing noise they make as they go by." Normal people can't get away with that...

Anyway, the "Future Phil" project that is in my head right now is building a 32mm gauge steam engine, for next weekend's NGRS. As in other years, I should be building a small garden railway with 32 and 45mm gauge tracks. Every year, I decide it would be nice to have a battery-powered steam engine intead of just the diesels in my fleet. 

And every year, for many years, I've failed to find the time to build one. So, we'll be using the diesels, including the mobile wardrobe I built during the year. A loco as far as you can get from pretty. 

However, I have found time to investigate the brake coach in my IP Enigineeering set. A few years ago, it ran perfectly. Then it took to leaping off every few circuits. I've added weight to it, checked the B2B's, but never taken a proper look. No time. 

But, this year, I've extracted the train from storage early, and had a look. Almost imediatly, I spotted that the axles weren't at right angles to the sides. Measuring, it's less than a couple of mm out, but I can't see any other problem. 

Weird this, as the axleboxes are integral to the solebars. Maybe the wagon isn't perfectly square. 

Removing an entire solebar wasn't easy, but a sharp knife and some waggling with pliers did it. I took a bit off one end, and fixed it back. The axleboxes are now square. The chassis sits flat, and I'll reset the B2B's. 

Fingers crossed I've found it, as this is an attractive train that runs for a long while on one set of batteries - making it very useful.

A busy weekend ahead

By the time some of you will be reading this, I'll be on my way to London for beer with a few mates, some of whom have an involvement with model railways. Hopefully, the train back will be comfortable enough for snoozing.

Tomorrow, I'm off to the Llangollen Garden Railway Festival. You might wonder why I need another dose of garden railways so soon after the NGRS - well, the problem is that at that show I was tied to the stand, and didn't get the chance to wander and chat. Freed of my professional obligations, I can do what I like. Although, this is mostly catching up with the news from the trade. 

That's a run of 2 hours to the west of where I live. Sunday sees a run of nearly two hours to the east, to visit the Stamford Exhibition. Here, the plan is that I photograph a layout before the show opens - at 10am. Apparently, 8:30 is the earliest I can get in. Plenty of time, although it still means an early start for me!

Once the show opens, I'm going to be helping judge the best layout competition, so if owners want to prepare their bribes now. Cake is always appreciated. (Note: I am of course joking, about the bribe bit. Anyway, I'm not judging on my own, so it won't help.)

All this means modelling time is non-existent. Sorry, if this means slightly dull blog posts as I'll need my sleep!

If you are visiting either of these events, please say hello. Always happy to chat.

Not painting

 

Sunday afternoon, down to the model railway club to help out on the work there. For the last few weeks, the jobs for unskilled idiots involved putting paint on the walls or ceiling. 

Not this week, it's all about preparing the floor for paint, which means hours of scraping, and then sanding to get the blobs of paint and plaster off the chipboard. 

Why can't we use a machine? It seems the chipboard floor surface isn't that tough, and a sander would eat through it, so hand sanding it is then. To be honest, it's a hateful job, but essential, so we just have to get on with it.

My arms hurt.

Painty feet

 

My imagination has let me down for a post today, so have a picture of my painty feet after another session slapping trade emulsion on the walls and ceiling of our clubrooms. I've graduated from white paint to magnolia!

Messy fun at railway club

 

"What did you do on Good Friday Phil?

I helped to paint the ceiling in our model railway clubrooms. And, as you can see, it was a messy job, or at least it is when I do it. 

When people talk about model railway clubs, they often assume that you need to be some sort of expert modeller to join one. That's not the case. Sometimes, the most useful person in a club, is the one who hangs on to the other end of a piece of wood while someone else is sawing it. Or, can work a roller when the ceiling needs painting. 

I've mentioned before that we are in the middle of a massive refurbishment. The ceiling in question is the underside of a whole new floor we are putting in to increase the space in our clubrooms. A situation forced on us by an expanding (in numbers, not waist sizes!) membership. 

Anyway, I've been ashamed that work has been too busy for me to get involved. Well, ashamed, and jealous of the team who got to put the steelwork in, 'cos that looked fun. At least I can put a few hours in with the paint, and feel I've done a bit. 

If you'd like to know more, we have a YouTube channel with some entertaining videos documenting the process.

A rucksack fit for a railway enthusiast

 

My rucksack has been falling apart. Properly giving up the ghost, with the main zip chewing the material around it, and then losing a grip on the body of the bag. And that's on top of the mesh bottle holders becoming saggy and useless years ago. 

Finding a replacement has been time-consuming and tricky. For a start, it needs to be a reasonable capacity. Not 20 litres, as seems very common with online offerings, or large enough to carry a bus. The old Timberland one is 35 litres, and I often fill it up at shows. Nothing less will do. 

It's also the rucksack I use for work, so nothing outward bound please. And no camoflauge. I hate people who aren't in the forces, but dress in camo to make themselve feel "hard". 

So, sensible colour. Sensible size. Space for camera gear, or Japanese robot kits. 

I looked in every sort of shop that sold rucksacks, and found they were too small, too large, or looked like they would be at home on Snowdon. Online, there were lots of poncy versions, all too small. Timberland only make child sizes too. Pity as their rucksack had given me excellent service, so I'd have bought another happily. 

By chance, I was meeting a friend outside Sports Direct last weekend. A text saying they were delayed saw me wander in out of curiosity, and there it was. A Karrimor 40 litre bag. In sensibl grey. OK< a little bigger than ideal, but as I have to carry some medicinal stuff all the time now, I don't worry about that. 

So, happy Phil. 

The problem is, what do I do with the old rucksack? This thing has been around the world with me. It deserves more than ending up in landfill. A Viking funeral is called for, or perhaps conversion into a time capsule in some way. Still pondering this, suggestions welcomed...

C5 disapointment

I was a Sinclair kid at school. 

Starting with the ZX81 (1k and then with the 16k RAM pack), I progressed to a Spectrum with the whopping 48k of memory. How we Sinclair kids looked down on the Commodore lossers in the playground. Yes, they could display more colours in a character. And had proper sound. And a keyboard, not made of dead flesh, but their programming language was rubbish. Sinclairs were for those who would lead the computer revolution. 

Anyway, because of this, part of me has always wanted a Sinclair C5, uncle Clive's first venture into electric vehicles. Yes, it was too low, and the press just laughed at it, but this always happens when inventions are ahead of their time. 

Truth is, the only reason I don't own one is lack of space to easily store it. Prices for a nice example are about a grand, not scary for a classic car, especially one so iconic. 

Then it all went wrong. At the classic car show, someone on the C5 stand kindly let me sit in one. For the first time ever. 

And I don't fit. My feet can get on the pedals, but only just, and I can't turn them. I'm simply too tall. A Sinclair C5 is idea for someone about 6 inches shorter than me, but that's it. 

Another dream shattered. Now, where can I find a nice City-El?

Melbridge on the TV

Watching an episode of the TV show Not Going Out, a detail caught my eye. 

It seems one of the children in the sitcom attends Melbridge Park Academy. That's odd, because Melbridge doesn't actually exist. We have built several layouts with the name, but pinched it from the 1942 film, Random Harvest.  

At the time, we were struggling to invent a town name, and Melbridge was convincing, and certainly better than anything we could come up with. Try it for yourself - it's harder than you think. 

So, how come the TV people used Melbridge? I'm assuming they also nicked it from the film, or perhaps there is a railway modeller on the production team?

Time to have your say

Slight grumpy post alert.

There's a lot of "consulation" around railways right now. Let's start with the plan to close all the ticket offices in England. 

The argument is that most people buy online or at ticket machines these days and we all need to move with the times and scrap the people sat behind a window. I can see how the maths works, but there are a few issues for me. 

First: I'm good with technology, but the Chiltern Trains ticket machines at my local station are a great example of truly terrible usability. Who decided they needed a shopping cart? When you buy tickets, it's normally for a journey you are about to make. They aren't bloody Amazon where you'll fill a basket with different products. 

Talking of baskets, the governments example if the self-service till in a supermarket. Apparently, these are wildely effective. Unless you have actually used them, in which case you'll have spent ages waiting for someone to come and dig the thing out of a hole when something unexpected happens. Not too bad in a supermarket where a quick flash of a card will usually fix things so the shopper can get back to the task. In a station, the person wandering around (we are promised they will be there, this isn't about reducing staff..) will then have to untangle the passenger (I refuse to call them customer) journey, almost certainly ending up punching the whole lot in from scratch. 

And what happens when the machines break? I've been at the station more than once when all five are out of action. Presumably the ticket barriers will then open so we can buy on the train, or even, not at all? 

If you want to have your say on this, visit the Transport Focus website. 

 

Over on the Isle of  Man, the government is "consulting" on the future of the heritage railways. They want to find out who uses them, and why. 

Suggestions are made that the MER could be cut back to Laxey. And the steam railway shortened in a similar way. Both run at a loss, and plenty of gobby people on the local newspaper websites and Facebook groups are calling for them to be scrapped entirely. 

Part of me should be pleased. No IOM transport would save me the grand that it will cost to visit for a week. An amount that would get me somewhere sunny, with plenty of spending money to boot. The island would be spared those pesky tourists, and all their infuriating money being pumped into the economy. Those hotels could be converted to something else. Not sure what, but that's not my problem. Don't say TT, that's only two weeks, and anyway, lots of Manx want rid of that too. 

Obviously, I think this is A. Bad. Thing. 

Anyway, you can have your say on the Manx Government Website. 

Potential crime didn't pay

 

There are many skills I'd love to aquire - ventriloquism, riding a unicycle properly (I can wobble about on one) and picking locks. 

There's no real plan for that last one, I don't see myself as Raffles, the gentleman cat burglar in the future. I'm just curious. There is a lock-pick set in my tools, and I sort of understand the basic concepts, but aquiring skills requires practise. 

A handy tool for this is a transparent lock, and I thought I'd found on in an antique shop recently. 8 quid, it looked like a bargin. 

What it was, is not a lot of money. Far from a bargain though. 

For a start, look at the keys. Have you ever seen ones like this? Nope. No point learning how to pick this lock, as you'll never see another. 

Worse, when I unlocked it, the whole thing jammed solid and wouldn't lock again. Pocking and prodding resulted in the thing falling to bits - and it was still jammed!

Computer Active

 

Last week, my dad presented me with a copy of Computer Active magazine. He'd been browsing the mag rack in a supermarket and spotted the headline about restoring old photos and videos. 

Now, he's completely untechnical, but bought it because he thought I would be interested. And I was, but not just for the interesting article covering the use of AI filters. 

It's the magazine itself. 

I love good radio. When someone else is chosing the tunes, you hear things you'd never have heard had you been in charge of the playlist. Some you'll like, some you won't. But at least you hear new music. 

This magazine is a bit like this. I know I could find all the information on the internet, but to do that, I need to know that I want to read about it. In a magazine, all sorts of articles tell me things I didn't know I might need to know. And that's how I like it. 

Reading Computer Active is fun. A procession of interesting, and well-written articles. I'm sure there will be people who are so expert, they can disagree violently with some of the content, but I don't care. I'll take it at face value. 

There's also a news section that covers consumer and low-end enthusiast stuff. I know there is tech news online, but people like my parents won't read it, even if the knowledge would be helpful. 

Pondering all this, I contrast it with the "I'm not buying a magazine unless it's all perfect for me" mentality of many railway and boat enthusiasts. Obviously, I'm pro-magazine, but I think it's helpful to be exposed to ideas that you wouldn't be otherwise. Different prototypes and even scales can promt ideas for future projects, or even take your modelling in a different direction. And yes, you can get a lot via the web (goodie, free!) but the chances are you'll stay in your comfort zone, and that's not always helpful. 

Anyway, Computer Active is right on my list of random mags to buy for train journeys now!

(Incidentally, if anyone wishes to suggest a random mag you think I might be interested in, I'm open to ideas.)

Festive Zoom shelves

 

We've been recording a review of the year, remotely. 

Behind me for video calls, I have a set of shelves, which are decorated with large scale model locos. I think it makes me look a bit more interesting. Certainly better than the sort of books idiot politicians like in their background, which they obviously haven't read. 

For Christmas, I've redecorated the shelves with festive models - a HGLW rail mounted Santa sleigh, US operating dwarves sawing wagon and an LGB Harlequin loco. 

And I wore a hat. In case you hadn't noticed.

Shut the door!

  

What is it with people displaying their cars at classic vehicle shows? Why must they leave the doors open? 

The photo above demonstraites the point. Taken at the NEC classic car show on Friday (photo dump coming soon), it shows a lovely VW Beetle. But with every opening door flapping in the wind, the cars sleek lines are ruined. 

You can argue that they wish to show off the detailed under-bonnet area, with neatly hidden wiring and decorated fuel tank. At the back, we (apparenlty) want to see the engine. And why not show off those painted door shuts? 

Because, it ruins the look. In my mind, anyway. 

Another one. Lovely Mark 1 Ford Fiesta with only 3500 miles on thye clock. I like it because a 950cc model like this, was the first car I drove on the road after passing my test. Even the colour is similar. But I can't really enjoy it because we have to look at the engine. Admitedly, this is of interest to anyone restoring a Fiesta, but it's not how the designer envisaged the car to look. You can't see out of the windscreen for a start. 

Oh yes, the hinges work, but we could see in through the windows. And let's face it, the Bond Bug interior isn't something that takes a lot of looking like. 

We don't even really know what this is supposed to look like. It's not like there is another Lancia like it, after all. 

Is it too much to ask that cars look like cars when on display? Or am I just being grumpy?

Great big, chocolate block

 

Two lengths for a quid. Bargain. You probably think this is just normal electrical "chocolate block" connectors, but these are the largest examples I've ever seen. Each one is 155mm in length. 

What I don't understand, is why it exists.

These massive metal connectors will happily accept some serious bits of wire, almost 5mm in diameter by the look of it. The thing is, if you are using wires that fat, they much be carrying some serious current. So, surely there has to be a better, and more secure, way to join such wires up? 

You know you are a railway modeller when...

 

I spent Saturday helping a friend move into a new house. My job involved assembling flat-pack furniture, one of my favourite things to do. Then there was a tip run followed by picture hanging.

What you see is the packing from an Argos, Habbitat, coat and shoe stand. My friend knows me well enough not to question my desire to take this stuff home with me rather then dropping it off at the tip. I looked at it and saw big sheets of 1cm thick polystyrene - all nice and square and perfect for scenery making. I'm not going to pass this stuff up. 

So, the unit was orderd at 1am, arrived at 8am (the same day!) and the packing was in my store, topping up a box that has been depleted recently, by 5:30pm. Pretty good result there. Much better than it ending up in landfill too.