Curves and joiners arrived today, as anticipated. This was despite a pricing descrepancy meaning that my original cheque was slightly short on the final bill; PPS despatched the goods without waiting for further payment, or even for the first cheque to clear. That’s pretty darn good service.

Here we are, twelve lengths of Peco’s finest in SM-32. (The curves and joiners are presumably to follow.) Some quick measurements for reference: sleeper length is 72mm, width is 11mm and distance between is 27mm (distance between the inside edges of the rails is…oh come on, keep up!). This is very dull info that nevertheless has some bearing on my intended method of anchorage, which looks like it might be…challenging. I shall say no more, to reserve an escape route and avoid looking dumb later.

For the benefit of anyone else ordering this stuff, the box weighs 2.8kg and cost approximately seven pounds to post via Royal Mail.

My Glamorous Research Assistant has just sent a picture message: a parcel from PPS, with “Peco” visible through the wrapping…!

Given that I only posted the order (with a cheque) on Sunday, that is extremely quick service.

I was planning an entry on the prototype. Nothing exhaustive, but nothing too generalised either - pretty much any book of “old photos of Welsh narrow gauge lines” will provide plenty of examples of the kind of thing I’m aiming at. Instead, I was hoping to pick out a few key photographs that particularly evoke the atmosphere I find most appealing (keywords: dereliction, ramshackle, overgrowth, basic, minimalist, melancholy, rack, ruin).

Motive power

A larvely weekend - incredible to be sitting out in the garden in mid-October, something we weren’t able to do for the whole of August. Of course, I couldn’t do much else in the absence of track to lay (now at least ordered, from PPS). I guess it might as well be carved in stone that the last week of October will be wet, windy and wild by comparison.

Never mind, let’s talk about engines.

This doesn’t feel like it’s going anywhere at present - a lack of commitment. Either you’re building a railway in your garden, or you’re merely skulking in the shrubbery, thrusting a track plan behind your back and muttering “Who, me?” when accused. I need a plan.

Scale and prototype

From Richard, a possible solution to the track problem - make your own from old Triang rail. Urk, probably not - the last time I picked up a soldering iron, NATO went to DefCon 3 in readiness. Still, it makes Peco Streamline seem like a bargain.

Also from Richard, a link to the man who built an actual 2 ft gauge line around his paddocks to haul horse poo. This guy comes close to knocking James May off his pedestal. I love the way he makes out it’s purely for practical purposes. I might extend my line to the house and claim it’s to carry cat litter to the composter.

I was beginning to worry that the two weekends work so far would be all I would accomplish until Spring 2009, given that summer now appears to have briefly come and gone and we have settled back into watching the rain sheeting across the valley. Plus, much time has been spent recently battening down the hatches for a long, cold winter with high heating bills.

However, we did have an hour spare at the end of yesterday where the rain held off and, urging the navvies fiercely on in the finest spirit of Stephenson, I was able to fill in the other bit of trench.

BBC4 had a great evening of programmes based around Dr Beeching two nights ago. Rather brave of the channel - an under-utilised service catering to a minority market and subsidised by the rest of the network - to draw attention to itself in this way, I feel. Tories might have watched. But I’m sorry to report that the spirit of the mad axeman still stalks the land.

I’ve been pondering further about why the expected derision and rolled eyes haven’t yet appeared in connection with this project (don’t worry, still plenty of time to get some in; e.g. five years later: “You’re not still building that toy train track, are you?!”). Nope, apparently a garden railway is…well, “cool” would be wishful and hilarious thinking, but certainly an interesting curiosity.

I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s been made acceptable by James May.