Making Connections: Epipode 01 - Ely to Peterborough

The Sixth of January Two Thousand and Fifteen. Tuesday.

Hello. My name is Vin Smarsden Hendrick and this is the first in an occasional series of blogs where I tell you about a shortrain journey I've made and the stories I've bumped into on the way.

I recently completed my first rail journey of 2015. It began in the picturesque Cambridgeshire city of Ely. I was heading for the 1815 service to Peterborough and as usual I was a little behind schedule. The sun had already set on the imposing cathedral which was now tastefully floodlit by a passing police helicopter, making an eerie crenelated silhouette. 2015 might have been around the corner but I could have sworn I was in the  Middle Ages of England! The fierce light also drew me to the new Subway concession installed within the lantern tower next to the Bishop of Huntingdon's chancel. I grabbed a quick lunch surrounded by clunch and made my way to the station. My sandwich was a simple three cheese affair, modest yet satisfying. 

On the platform I encountered Haraparit Kaur Gill, a laser eye surgeon from Chatteris. Drawn to the 'Game of Thrones' ring tone on her phone (she had just completed a short call when we met) I asked her if she was a fan of the epic fantasy television series. She replied she wasn't, but had been making her way through the boxed sets on the recommendation of a work friend who had lent them to her. Haraparit had got as far as the third series when she made a curious discovery. All of the discs in that box contained only a single episode repeated ten times over. I asked Haraparit which one. Apparently it had Dennis Pennis in it or something. Nevertheless, Haraparit's friend had never mentioned this despite claiming to have watched them all and read half of the books. The fibber!

I asked Haraparit if she was going to call her friend's bluff. She told me that she didn't want to risk upsetting her and was content to pretend that she too had watched the series confident that she wasn't going to be asked to comment on something that her friend had no knowledge of anyway. At that point my train arrived and I left Haraparit to unravel these intrigues worthy of Westeros.

My journey took around forty minutes from start to finish. One of my favourite things about rail travel is the opportunity to catch up with books, comics, podcasts or audios that somehow get missed during the hurly-burly of everyday life. On this occasion I reacquainted myself with recordings of the dead caught on electronic equipment that had come free with The Unexplained magazine many years ago. It's complete guff, but it still manages to give me goosepimples. Who knew Latvian was the preferred language of the dead?

I arrived on time in Peterborough where I was met by my friend Ramon - an old Spanish penpal who moved to England after a lottery win. He was kindly lending me a couch for the night. I asked if he had any tales he'd like me to pass on in my blog, but other than a time he saw David O'Leary of Arsenal buying lightbulbs in Wilko's he didn't have much to add. Perhaps that was as well. I think I had had enough excitement for one day!

More soonliest.

Book Recommendation Time

The Sixteenth of October Two Thousand and Twelve. Tuesday.

This is what you get if you mix two potions and then roll 07 on d100: "Mild poison which causes nausea and loss of 1 point each of strength and dexterity for 5-20 rounds, no saving throw possible; one potion is cancelled, the other is at half strength and duration. (Use random determination for which is cancelled and which is at half efficacy.)"

I don't think I'd even heard the words 'miscibility' or 'efficacy' before this.

Oh, a little note reminds you to roll in secret and give no uncalled-for clues until necessary.

If you're travelling the astral plane there's a one in twenty chance you'll meet something. Roll 38 on d100 and the something will be
Tiamat, 5 headed dragon star of the D& D cartoon. I have never used any of these tables but they are awesome.

I don't believe this fabulous blog has done a book recommendation (cue some editing later if I actually have) so let me start now by mentioning three of my favourite reads. Well, I say reads. What these books have in common is that they're more sort of dip-in and dip-out volumes. Such as the one I've quoted from above my First Book Recommendation The 1st Edition Advanced Dungeons and Dragons Dungeon Masters' Guide.

Hmm, could have done with focussing the camera first. Never mind. Maybe it's a property of the bizarre forces contained within that have caused the distortion. Yeah, that's the most likely explanation.

As well as being full of every rule for every situation you could possible come across in your life as a brave adventurer it also contained actual drawings of naked ladies (well, demons and mermaids - close enough) that made it the ideal purchase for the 13 year old boy. I didn't even realise until now that they have released special commemorative editions of the 1st ed AD&D rulebooks this year. A quick scan around shows that the limited release of these new editions has ensured they've gone up in price already. Let's put a price tag on that proustian rush.

My Second Book Recommendation is West Yorkshire Train Times, perhaps the best combined volume of train timetables produced anywhere in the country.

Each timetable contained within is available individually but there's just something about this omnibus that satisfies, its substantial page count affording it the status of a latter-day Bradshaw's. Many of the timetables extend beyond the borders of West Yorkshire (oh yes, you'll find both Manchester and Scarborough in here!) meaning details of most of the North's train services can be at your fingertips with the turn of a page. This is the stuff.

On a side note, I quite like the fact that the railway signs of three consecutive PTEs all use an 'M' branding on their stations. You could take a journey from Huddersfield to Huyton and come across the following.




And if those two weren't anoraky enough for you you're going to love my Third Book Recommendation The London A to Z. 

My own love affair with the A to Z began naturally enough with my own native edition from Manchester. It was already several years out of date when I used it to explore streets that were no longer there and routes that could no longer be followed. The sight of Manchester Central  and Manchester Exchange stations dangled a long gone carrot of exploration (that's a recognised metaphor, isn't it?) in front of me. But it's the majesty of the London edition that makes me gasp in awe even now. Never mind all the hoo-hah about the inaccuracies of Apple Maps there's something that speaks to me in turning a page and discovering a whole new world to explore. I now have a 2012 edition, updated to include Overground stations and Olympic venues. There are other, useful but less elegant, atlases but you can't do better than an A to Z. Here's what Wikipedia has to say about Phyllis Pearsall, the extraordinary woman who created the first A to Z.

More soonliest.

Alien Cat on a Train

The Twenty-Fifth of July Two Thousand and Twelve. Thursday.

Anyway, so I was getting the train back from Manchester to Scarborough. The usual thoughts going through my head - should I get chips on the way home or would a bowl of Super Noodles do me for tea. When this cat climbed up on my table.

'Is it all right if I sit here, boss?' he asked.

'Oh yeah, just make yourself at home, why don't you?' I replied and I moved the packet of Barbecue Hula Hoops I'd had open on the table. Didn't want cat hairs in there.

'What's with all the talking?' I asked.

'Don't get uncool,' replied the cat. 'This isn't the quiet carriage.'

'No, I mean being a cat and talking.'

He stared at me crazy, crazy style.

'I am not of this Earth, human! What think you of that!'

And then he gave a bizarre ear-piercing miaow that coupled with his odd grasp of grammar convinced me of his non-terrestrial origins. That was enough to trigger an age old memory.

'I've just remembered a competition I entered when I was at junior school,' I told him. He didn't seem to be interested in this and went about his own indifferent feline affairs. But I persisted.

'The Disney film The Cat from Outer Space was coming out and we had to draw what we thought such a creature would look like. I'm not much of an artist, but I put considerable thought into my rendering of a green cat in a spacesuit with annotations showing various scientific features of interest. I can still remember the teacher's bemused expression - it wasn't as accomplished as the work of others but it was fabulous frankly and I still recall the disappointment from the teacher's lack of appreciation, nay, her mild mockery even.'

That's when the cat on the table turned to me and said:

'Man, I love that film!'

 (I don't know if he was saying 'Man' in a kind of 'dude' type of way or whether he was just calling me a man like he'd called me a human earlier.)

Anyroad up, that seem to improve his mood. So I thought I'd chance my arm and move the conversation on.

'What do you think of The Gnome-Mobile?' I asked him.

'Don't make me hurt you,' he hissed.

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LDS

The Twenty-Third of April Two Thousand and Twelve. Monday.

I think my first memory of Leeds is as a boy trainspotter. Oh, I was fearless then. Expeditions to the far flung reaches of West Yorkshire and Merseyside. Apart from the thrill of seeing Inter City 125s in their natural environment (it was all electric in Manchester - although cabbing thyristor controlled loco 87 101 STEPHENSON (and yes, all capitals is important cos all the other 87s had lower case nameplates) at Piccadilly is not to be sniffed at) what I remember most of all is that I'd taken a Pot Noodle (plus ça change) and a flask of hot water but had to ask for a plastic fork from the buffet as I'd forgotten to bring one. It was curry flavour, since you ask.

York is the nearest city to Scarborough and is just under an hour away. Ideal for a post work pop to the comic shop or to see an indie film that won't be on in Scarborough for a bit. But for a proper three shop comic mooch it has to be Leeds.

I've been doing an online British Sign Language course - very handy for someone who works shifts. The tutorials and assessments have taken place over Skype. But the body responsible for the examinations changed the rules so that now you have to meet the tutor in person to be assessed. Since the tutor is based in Bognor Regis this is a bit tricky.

Nevertheless, a grand tour of England was arranged and the nearest the came to Scarborough was - you've guessed it - Leeds. The stage was set for a very pleasant day out.

I didn't want to take any time off work do I asked if I could go in the afternoon. No problem, but this did mean that I was up at 5 and pretty much going on nonstop until the evening. A positive side effect of this was that sleep deprivation, my old friend, worked its magic once again. My mind experienced a near-drunk state of consciousness that eliminated any of the nerves I had been feeling in the run-up.

It all went well - not sure when I get my results but the mood while chatting gave the necessary reassuring signals. In fact, it was pleasing to hold a conversation in (very basic!) sign for a few minutes. I learned the signs for 'Forbidden Planet' and let them know I was off on a hunt through the bargain boxes for 50p comics.

Comics are expensive. There's a huge debate going on right now about their future with the rise of digital throwing the role of bricks and mortar comic shops into question. There aren't that many shops in the UK and the USA has a few clusters in places like New York and Chicago but its size means they're spread pretty thin throughout the rest of the country. As a rule people - and, more importantly, kids - don't buy comics from newsagents any more - these specialist shops are the only outlets. That's why in Scarborough I enjoy buying the reprints you get in the Marvel Collectors' Editions and Clint from WHSmith - it's a bit of a flashback to the days when American style comics were readily available on the high street (that's pretty much the joy of rooting through the bargain boxes - reliving the searches for odd issues from my earliest comic shop visits).

So that's a typical day out in Leeds for me. I love the journey back - music in, reading comics and tucking into my own modest version of Orient Express dining. On this occasion it was a meal deal from Boots - sweet potato flatbread, snack-a-jacks and cream soda. I live like a king!

One last observation about Leeds. It takes about 2.5 hours by bus to reach Scarborough from there by the fabled Yorkshire Coastliner. This leads to queasy passengers, having travelled on their free passes but not realising how long it would take, coming into the railway station and asking how much it would be to go back on the train. Invariably, what little colour they have left in their cheeks drains away when they are told it's £24.90 - 20p more than they would have paid for a day return in Leeds (don't ask...). In fact, the last people I explained this to were deaf, testing my signing and neatly tying up this blog entry.

More soonliest.