#railway line

[hellsgate-roadhouse]

[u-friend-or-ufo]

Bruv...I'm trying to sleep...

[ldagence]

★彡𝓛𝓓ミ★

[pl-20]

[selfindulgenttwaddle]

Leaves on the line 🍃

[vestaignis]

Железнодорожная линия La petite ceinture, Париж, Франция

Двухпутная железнодорожная линия La petite ceinture была построена между 1852 и 1869 годами и изначально была предназначена для грузовых поездов, чтобы те могли обходить Париж. Отсюда, кстати, и название: Petite Ceinture, или «малый пояс». 

 В течение почти 100 лет линия служила одним из главных средств передвижения в Париже.

Однако с появлением метро и развитием автомобильного транспорта популярность транспортного канала стала падать. Вскоре на Le petite centure ездили только товарные поезда. А в 1934 году большая часть линии была закрыта, а оставшийся её маленький кусок функционировал до 1985 года. С тех пор La petite ceinture остаётся заброшенной за исключением небольшого участка - из части дороги сделали прогулочный маршрут, а через другую небольшую его часть пролегают пути электрички. 

За прошедшие годы «малый пояс» остался почти нетронутым, только зарос мхом и плющом. Сейчас для посещений официально открыты всего лишь несколько километров путей – от вокзала Отёй (Gare d’Auteuil) до вокзала Муэтт (Gare de la Muette), они охраняются мэрией и давно уже превратились в оазис, где произрастают более 200 видов растений и проживают 70 видов живых существ, включая белок, ежей, лис, енотов и прочей, не совсем что бы городской, живности.

Railway line La petite ceinture, Paris, France .

The double track La petite ceinture was built between 1852 and 1869 and originated to be tied to freight trains that could bypass Paris. position, by the way, and the name: Petite Ceinture, or "small belt". For almost 100 years, the line served the main means of transportation in Paris.

However, with the advent of the metro and the development of road transport, the popularity of the transport channel began to decline. Soon only freight trains were running on Le petite centure. And in 1934, most of the line was closed, and the remaining small piece of it functioned until 1985. Since then, La petite ceinture has remained abandoned, with the exception of a small section - a walking route was made from part of the road, and train tracks run through another small part of it.

Over the past years, the "small belt" has remained almost untouched, only overgrown with moss and ivy. Now only a few kilometers of tracks are officially open to the public - from the Gare d'Auteuil station to the Muette station (Gare de la Muette), they are protected by the mayor's office and have long turned into an oasis where more than 200 plant species grow and 70 species live living creatures, including squirrels, hedgehogs, foxes, raccoons and other, not quite urban, living creatures.

redeveloper.ru/redeveloperskie-proekty/potential/zheleznodorozhnaya-liniya-la-petite-ceinture-parizh-frantsiya/

[hansdurrer]

Near Versam, Switzerland, 25 September 2023

[tenth-sentence]

"V for Vendetta" - Alan Moore and David Lloyd

[narmadanchal]

उधार दिये अपने ही दस लाख वापस नहीं मिले, परेशान होकर कर ली आत्महत्या

– मर्ग जांच के बाद पुलिस ने पांच के खिलाफ किया मामला दर्ज – दोस्ती का फायदा उठाकर लिए दस लाख, वापस देने आनाकानी – बार-बार मांगने पर बनाते रहे बहाना, युवक ने की आत्महत्या इटारसी। अपने ही दस लाख रुपए उधार देकन वापस नहीं मिलने पर बजरंगपुरा (Bajrangpura) निवासी एक युवक ने 15 अक्टूबर को आत्महत्या कर ली थी। आत्महत्या से पूर्व युवक ने एक पत्र में पांच लोगों का नाम लिखकर बताया था कि इनके दस लाख रुपए…

[testormblog]

Where I Shouldn't Have Been

Many people, my family included, used the railway line as a public thoroughfare.  Afterall, it was the easiest route to walk anywhere.  The roads that existed were little more than dirt tracks.  Fortuitously, Dad had been issued with a railway trike on which he travelled along the track during his work day.  He also used it for his own sorties.  The trike had three steel wheels in a triangular formation with the pony at the front.  Dad propelled it along the track by pumping its handle backwards and forwards, pumping harder on the inclines.

Early one Saturday morning, Dad and I were on our way to Pop’s and Nana’s place.  I was about five or six and sitting on the trike’s pony seat.  We probably shouldn’t have been on the line although no regular trains were scheduled.  Dad had worked hard to push us up the long up grade.  Now, we were coasting along the down grade and enjoying our speed.  The only thing, we could hear was the din made by the trike’s steel wheels on the steel track.

I looked backwards.  I saw at the top of the rise, less than three hundred metres away, a massive black steam engine, a PB15.  Its chimney belched a cloud of thick smoke from the coal it had consumed to feed its uphill climb.  Its momentum on the downhill grade was increasing its speed fast.  The train was bearing down on us.  I frantically tugged at Dad’s shoulder.  I couldn’t yell above the squeal of the trike’s noise.  Besides, Dad was facing away from me.  He angrily turned to whack me to sit down.  Then he spotted the train coming up fast behind.  Fortunately, the track was wide at this point.  Dad, gathering all of his strength, threw us and the trike off the track just before the PB15’s cow catcher would catch us.  By seconds, we escaped certain death.  Even if the engine driver or fireman had seen us, they couldn’t have stopped the train over such a short distance.  Of course, we didn’t tell anybody, especially not Mother.

Strangely, Mother didn’t forbid me to roam the railway line or anywhere else.  She just cautioned me to watch for snakes.  She only forbode me to explore the bottom corner of our house block, where the army’s showers and latrines had been.  Thus, I viewed the railway tracks running adjacent to be an extension of our backyard.  Hence, I explored these, and as I grew bigger, walked further along them.  I observed everything about them: the rails’ lengths, width (gauge), ages and conditions, as well as the types of sleepers, hog backs or flatbacks, and the different dog spikes that held them together.  I collected the coal thrown on the track sides to burn in our stove.  I learnt that the engine drivers preferred certain grades of coal.

I knew the classes of engines that travelled the nearby lines.  I also knew what times the trains came and jumped off the tracks to safety before they passed by.  Nevertheless, the unscheduled ‘special’ trains were always a risk, particularly if I was crossing a railway bridge.  The bridges were built with side platforms so people could escape from oncoming trains.  These were small in diameter and provided an escapee with space for their body and a leeway of about fifty centimetres between them and a passing train.  The person had no other alternative if they wished to survive.  Jumping from the local bridges wasn’t an option.  They were built high above running watercourses.  Most people were also superstitiously scared of these and couldn’t swim.

One time, I was walking across the kilometre long bridge at Holmview when another of those frightening PB15 engines approached.  I realised instantly I couldn’t reach the bridge’s other side.  I looked at the fast flowing water below.  I desperately surveyed the bridge for another option.  Just ahead was a small platform.  I hastily stowed myself there, breathing in to make myself smaller.  I gripped the platform’s railing.  Adrenalin surged through my veins.  My heart beat loudly and rapidly.  My body quivered with terror.  I feared I’d die gruesomely or fall and drown.  The engine’s chug and the mechanical grind of its wheels filled my ears.  The rumble of fifteen carriages followed.  I felt the rush of air from the train’s speed.  Afterwards, I quickly scampered to solid ground before I collapsed.  Of course, I kept my fright to myself.  The specials caught me a few more times but this first one was the worst.

As I grew older, I willingly did errands that allowed me to stray from the house.  Three times a week, we received a bread parcel from the Beenleigh baker on the afternoon train.  There were three different routes I could walk to the station by.  Down the road was the most boring.  Through the paddocks and over the fences was the shortest and along the railway track the longest.  Once, whilst practising my balance on the track’s rails, I spotted a crack in the rail on the curve.  The rail was sheared into two pieces.  I thought this was odd and hurried home to tell my father.

Initially, Dad didn’t believe me.  However, since the cracked rail wasn’t far from home, he humoured me.  He agreed with my opinion.  Still, he waited until early the next morning to advise his supervisor, the ganger for that track section.  I wondered about his sense of urgency.  I supposed he knew no trains were scheduled to Beaudesert that night.  Besides, he probably didn’t feel like returning to work that evening.  The ganger advised the inspector immediately.  The inspector arrived.  He closed the line and cancelled all trains until the rail was replaced.

Me, a young boy, was a hero that day!  I prevented a potential train derailment.  Unfortunately, I didn’t earn any credit for being observant not even a kind word.  Then again, I shouldn’t have been walking on the line.

[haxanbroker]

Old Street Station, London, November 2015.

[hellsgate-roadhouse]

[magical-magyars]

木次線　2024.9.13　南大東駅～出雲大東駅　キハ120系

[ldagence]

★彡𝓛𝓓ミ★

[sparkarrestor]

So Proud!

[broccolidevourer]

World AIDS Day

Paying tribute to the four OG jellicle kittens who left us way too young, and the four remarkable actors behind the makeup.

Add other kittens you'd like to remember below, and other actors, and… they'll be with us forever

Love&Remember