Some men dream of vineyards. Others build goat pens in rural Spain and call it “freedom.” Me? I restore locomotives.
This time it’s a Hornby Class 47 InterCity that’s been packed away in its original polystyrene tray since around 2004—covered in what I assume was dust and regret.
It won’t win any beauty contests — no steam romance here, no elegant Pendolino curve. But this loco mattered. My son gave it to me when I retired from the network, joking, “Run your own trains, Dad—no yelling at drivers all day.” Fair enough.
Finally got out the good tweezers this week, though I’d lost them. And every time I start a restoration project, Sue starts making lists of “helpful tasks” I could be doing instead.
The State of the Poor Thing
I cracked it open: motor dried out, contacts looking like Roman ruins, old lubricant turned brown treacle, wheels sticky, wires brittle—textbook neglect.
Yet, these Hornby classics—they’re stubborn. They want to run again. A splash of isopropyl alcohol, cotton swabs, new brushes shipped from Sheffield in sandwich bags… and she twitched.
Patience, a magnifier, and years worth of know-how—that’s all it took.
Curious about the bigger collection? Read more about how this loco fits into the world I’ve built here:
Bill’s Toy Train Collection – More Than Just a Hobby
That post’s full of memories, logistics, and the odd uproar about Sue’s fears of dominating shelf space.
Then Geoff Got In Touch
Well, not a call—voice message. Geoff never rings these days. He’s gone “off-grid” about 100 miles inland near Lleida, living with his wife Carol, four dogs, and a goat named Tina Turner.
Geoff and I used to share night shifts at Crewe North—same tea flasks, same raunchy jokes, same way of staring at points like they were alive.
Now he lives in a converted barn, eats lentils, ferments kefir, and calls unchecked Wi-Fi “a novelty.” I joked I’d fight the tracks again before touching an oat.
He said, “Come up for the weekend. Fresh air, solar-powered showers, goat cheese fresh from Tina Turner herself.”
I looked at the disassembled Class 47, grease under my fingernails, Sue in the next room cursing the vacuum—and thought… maybe?
Geoff’s off the rails, but maybe that’s exactly the point.
Sue’s Response
I floated the idea. One raised eyebrow. “Can I use a proper toilet?”
Then went back to her crossword. So that’s a “maybe” in Sue-speak. Better odds than most things I suggest.
Back to the Workbench
The loco’s nearly done. She might need a new decoder if I decide to go DCC; Geoff would probably suggest solar and ethical righteousness instead—but I’m tempted to keep her analog. Niche nostalgia.
Fixing trains with your hands, knowing the stories they carry—that’s comfort. And apparently, so is visiting your old mate who anthropomorphizes goats.
No responses yet