Rother Valley Railway

The pubs just run out of beer now that is a Mega disaster of apocalyptic proportions

 

................especially in this day and age!

 

In any day and age! Luckily, I'm perfectly capable of brewing my own ..... a chap can't be too careful!

 

Jacob Rees-Mogg

 

Or "Oh dear, how sad, what a pity, never mind." (Quite appropriate I thought as "It ain't 'alf 'ot mum" today.)

 

Especially when you get brews called Bishops finger, how do I know where said bishop has had his finger , and as for old peculiar ,well, I don't want to end up all old peculiar , theres no telling what I might do
what, was that last orders? god this RVR business is enough to drive you to drink.

 

I don't know about where the Bishop's finger has been, but I note that there is a cheese called Stinking Bishop.

 

Oddly enough, one of my pet hates is 'UK' - which seemed to really take off when Tony Blair was preaching 'Cool Britannia'

I don't live in Yookay - I live in England! And don't get me started on the likes of 'train station', 'retail therapy', 'alternative parenting strategy', 'wardrobe malfunction', etc . . .

A classic example of how the English used to deal with "MEGA APOCALYPTIC DISASTERS"; back in the darkest depths of WWII, a convoy was proceeding along the English Channel, with a small trawler sweeping for mines ahead of it. The trawler was typical of those used for such work, and crewed by a mixture of Navy regulars, Volunteer Reservists and enlisted fishermen. At that time, the Germans were really ringing the changes with a mixture of magnetic and acoustic fuses in their mines, so said trawler was festooned with all sorts of ironmongery sending out sound waves like those of a big ship, magnetic fields, and so on.

The commodore was watching the trawler like a hawk, ready to order the convoy to take evasive action if a mine popped up to the surface, when, all of a sudden, there was a thump like a 20 ton block of concrete falling off a skyscraper - and, a split second later, a huge column of water and spray erupted very close to the minesweeper. Unfortunately, that explosion triggered another mine, which was even closer . . . and that, in turn, triggered a third . . . at which point the minesweeper was lost to sight . . .

As the convoy's commodore watched, holding his breath, the tons of water fell back into the sea - and there was the minesweeper, listing 30 odd degrees, with water pouring off her decks, shattered windows, and generally looking pretty battered. So the commodore sent a signal to the minesweeper:

"That was a big one!"

The Sub-Lieutenant commanding the sweeper replied "What was?"

 

One I remember well was 'Cherry' Wyles, an ex-Southern boat train driver - who could keep to time, or make up for delays, on less steam than any other driver I ever fired to. His language was fit to buckle boiler plate at 50 yards, but you couldn't wish to have a better mate and better instructor than him.

One day I asked him where he got the name 'Cherry' from. He explained that his dad had been a signalman on the Southern, and was nicknamed Cherry, "so when I started as a cleaner, they called me 'Young Cherry'. Now you're going to ask, why did they call my dad Cherry?"

"Go on, then", I said, "why did they?"

"I ain't got a ****** clue!"


Frim Halliwell . . . yes . . . as I recall, he once had a goods wagon emblazoned with the legend "Frittenden Treacle Mining Co." - a reference to a local legend from WWII, to the effect that customers in a local pub wound up some American troops one evening, by telling them (with totally straight faces) that treacle was obtained from a treacle mine near Frittenden, and gave the Americans clear directions as to how to find the mine, so they could see it for themselves. The Americans took off to find the mine . . . but nobody in the pub was ever quite sure whether the Americans believed it, or whether they were pulling a reverse mickey-take on the locals! Certainly, some Americans I've met from the western states in America are just as fond of deadpan humour as we are.

 

Can anyone from KESR confirm; is that Bo Drage on the Terrier?

 

Remember also that PWay vehicle with the amended name 'Frimtrol' painted on it.
Moggy the ganger...
Boot (-Wellington)
Dildo - I remember that name shouted merrily across the loco yard, luckily we had no neighbours.
Batman... There was also a BATEMAN the opticians in the high street, but eventually the 'E' fell (?) off.

 

The Frimtrol! Gosh - I'd forgotten that . . . and Boot Wellington . . . it all seems long ago and far away . . . well, 250 miles and 25 odd years . . .
And Pope's Cottage - a platelayer's hut between Rolvenden and Wittersham Road; named for a real character called Dennis Pope (from the very earliest days) who was banished to sleep there because of his appalling snores. He looked like a slimmer version of Jimmy Edwards, with a huge handlebar moustache, and reached his Cottage by riding along the trackbed with his motorbike and sidecar!

Do they still breed 'em like that anymore?

 

Bryan Atkins

 

Thank you, Robin - thinking about how long it is since I last saw Bo (20 years ago), I should have realised that the man in the picture is too young to be him.

PS - the view from your house is stunning!

 

You are welcome.

 

I though ‘Batman’ came from the so named having fallen off the top of a telegraph pole and it being claimed that he was trying to fly!

 

Try working in my industry. Every time I hear or read 'acoustical', 'graphical', 'parametrical' etc, I want to scream. And don't get me started on 'reaching out'...

The legend that was Philip Shaw, the redoubtable Mark Toynbee...

Indeed, there were quite a few characters on the Wealden Pullman crew back in the day.

 

Very much still is - was talking to him at the Colonel Stephens Museum only yesterday.

 

@DisusedBranch - how about 'empowerment', 'challenging behaviour', 'inclusivity', 'engaging stakeholders', and 'joined up thinking'? Or another pet hate - continually used, but NEVER explained by those who use it - 'vibrant'.

 

Then there is 'robust'. Which seems to me to be a euphemism for being 'on thin ice'.