home.social

Search

812 results for “trailspotting”

  1. Not today trainspotting gif.
    Glasgow have came out victorious in the URC final

    #BKTURC #BULvGLA #rugby

  2. 152 093-1 fährt durch Braunschweig Hbf West richtung Groß Gleidingen.

    Aufgenommen aus dem Seitenfenster meines Führerhauses (1440)

    152 093-1 on it's way through Brunswick main station.
    Picture taken from my driver's cab.

    #eisenbahn #railway #elok #db #deutschebahn #güterzug #braunschweig #bahnhof #fotografie #photography #ekosphotography #ekos #trainspotter #trainspotting #freighttrain #dbcargo #cargo #haul #haulin #fracht

    #canon #canonr6mkII

  3. Red Arrows In The Carpark

    Here’s a photo I took a couple of weekends ago. Sit, dear friends, and I shall relate the tale of how and why I took it.

    Context

    First off, an explanation of what this photograph shows. This is a view of a wide, helical, staircase in a carpark. Most of the frame shows the steps and surrounding columns, but you can see the parked cars and the concrete decks adjacent. The staircase itself is uncovered and open to the air so, framed by the circular cutout in the top level of the carpark, you get a view out of this space and up into the sky. Also framed in this view of the sky is part of Edinburgh castle, and flying in a V formation over the castle with coloured smoke trails behind them, and observed by a father and son silhouetted at the top of the steps, are the RAF’s flight display team, the Red Arrows.

    So this is a picture of a carpark, a castle, and some jets flying in formation. All three subjects are aligned as if they’d somehow intended it to be viewed this way but, as far as I know, I’m the first person to try to capture this particular alignment.

    And I’m pleased about that because this is a city in which there are a lot of very popular views. People have written several guides to the most ‘Instagrammable’ spots in Edinburgh and, because I’m a terrible snob, I find it very amusing to pass, say, Circus Lane or The Vennel,  or the Water Of Leith as it goes past Well Court Hall, and roll my eyes at the small crowds of people all taking the same shots. I can’t disagree with the idea that the views are nice, but somehow I have very little interest in trying to capture a particular view when so many others have probably already done it better. I’m by no means immune to the temptations of capturing a pretty view, but I clearly value a degree of novelty or personal interest on top of that. Why is that? Perhaps it’s something to ask my therapist.

    Anyway, the Red Arrows turn up basically every year at some point in this town, and I’ve tried to photograph them several times, now. They tend to come in from the East over the flat bit of Holyrood Park near my home, fly straight up the axis of the Royal Mile, and over the Esplanade in front of the castle as part of the Royal Tattoo, a sort of military show that takes place every August. Early attempts in my photographing them would involve my neighbour telling me they’d be flying over later in the day, so we’d go up to the roof and I’d put the Big Lens on.

    Fair enough, but I soon realised that shots of the jets alone in the sky didn’t actually interest me that much. The fact that they’re flying over a place as visually beautiful as Edinburgh is a bit more interesting to me, though, so I soon started trying to capture some of that context, too. The next year we were out in the park, and I tried to not focus just on the planes but on the enjoyment of the families over whom they were flying. The year after that I picked a viewpoint to show some of Holyrood Park, and this year I was seeking another new viewpoint.

    One thing you can be sure about the Red Arrows is that they’re skilled pilots and they know how to follow a flight plan. Their paths are mapped out in advance so it’s possible to have a good look at it and think about where might be a good vantage point.

    Several people have photographed them as they fly up the Royal Mile and it gets pretty busy up there in August so I opted to avoid that, and many others have taken shots which look up at them as they emerge over the Castle, most likely from the top deck of the adjacent Castle Terrace carpark. That’s quite a fun shot, but I didn’t want to just repeat it. Was there anything else in that area which might provide an interesting viewpoint with an interesting context? I opted to go exploring. Looking closer at the map, I couldn’t help noticing that right under their intended flight path was a particular feature of the Castle Terrace carpark that I’ve long appreciated on its own merits: the central staircase.

    Look at that thing! Honestly, we don’t build ’em like we used to, do we? It might be covered in signage and drip stains and exhaust grime and yellow paint and all the rest, but I swear that little space makes me think of Escher or Piranesi, every time. As an architectural typology, late 20th century carparks are under-appreciated. There, I’ve said it.

    And it’s not like this particular carpark is architecturally insignificant, either. It’s listed. It was the first multi-storey carpark built in Scotland. It’s used in T2: Trainspotting. Don’t just take my word for it: Historic Environment Scotland (who also operate the castle towering over this carpark) thinks it’s worthy of respect, too.

    Scoping

    Anyway, with the visual temptation of a nice grimy concrete carpark to look forward to, I set off to scope an interesting angle. Early on Saturday morning, as the farmers market stalls were being set up around me, I strolled around the carpark, scoping some angles. I’d tried the bridge over the Western Approach road but I didn’t think it was quite interesting enough. I’d strolled around the weird lifeless hinterland of the Sheraton and Conference Centre complexes. All potentially interesting (I enjoy the aesthetics of a cold lifeless hinterland almost as much as a dank carpark) but the thought of that staircase wouldn’t let me go.

    The difficulty is that Edinburgh Castle really does sit very high up on its rock. to get the staircase in the foreground and the castle requires a pretty alarmingly wide angle lens. To get the jets in frame too – even if you were in the right place and took your shot at exactly the right time – would be some very awkward framing!

    Maybe, but probably not.

    I’d been talking about it with a friend of mine, Iain, and he’d wondered if going down the stairs might offer an opportunity for framing the view, so I had a look. Honestly it’s almost even trickier: if you stand on the stairs you can’t see the castle. If you stand on the parking deck you can’t see enough sky. And no matter where you stand there’s only a very tiny frame of the sky visible – you’d have to hope that the Red Arrows are going to fly over exactly that bit of the castle and that you capture them in exactly the right split second. If I could somehow get the camera down low enough from the parking deck, maybe poke the tripod through the railing… If I used my widest-angle lens, could I get enough of the carpark and the castle and the sky and the jets all in frame at just the right moment?

    Well, it all seemed incredibly unlikely so I thought I needed to at least try

    Setup

    The flyby was scheduled for 18:15, so at 17:40 I set off on my bike with my camera and my tripod cases slung over my back. At about 17:50, as I cycled past the balmoral hotel, I realised with horror that I’d left my phone at home. How was I going to keep an eye on the time? I already knew there’d only be about one second available to capture the action, and those jets move quickly – you can easily miss seeing them and only notice the sound after they’ve already flown over! Oh well. I’d just have to pay really close attention to what other people were doing…

    At (I guess) about 18:00 I parked up my bike and noticed quite a lot of photographers milling around on top of the carpark, chatting, clearly having scoped their own particular angles in advance. I hopped merrily down the staircase and was pleased to see that nobody had yet claimed my intended viewpoint. Some might say that I shouldn’t be surprised: bent double, camera poked through a railing, wedged tight behind a parked car and leaning on a grimy concrete wall in what is basically an undergound carpark is probably not the most obvious place to photograph either a castle or jet aircraft flying in formation. Well, I had a (very silly) plan, and I was going to try it anyway!

    Because I’d forgotten my phone, I couldn’t capture my exact setup on the day, but I went back and revisited it for the sake of this blog post. It looked something like this:

    …In this position I could barely see the camera screen. I certainly couldn’t get my head down there to get a decent look through the viewfinder. If I was better prepared I might have tried shooting tethered to my laptop or controlled over wifi with a tablet, but I didn’t even have my phone with  me that day, and I was frankly relieved that NCP security staff hadn’t tried to stop me from wandering around looking suspicious with a tripod. Shooting in carparks is not always as easy as I’d like.

    Crunch time

    Anyway I’d managed to set up the camera in a way I’d hope might work. Now all I had to do was wait for the planes, pray that they were flying exactly where I wanted them, and hope I capture them at the right moment! At (maybe) about 18:12, a father and son came running up the stairs and plonked themselves at the top, eagerly looking up at the sky in anticipation. THEY had phones, so if I kept an eye on them, maybe I could spot when the planes were coming! Once they raised their phones, I started shooting. About a dozen exposures and then I noticed I could hear a cheer from the crowd up at the castle (who had a better view to the east than any of us down below) and at that point I just held down the button on my cable release. Sure enough, about a second later, the red arrows emerged over the castle, flew right over the staircase, and disappeared off out of view! I could barely see it, but I got a few shots in as they passed, and I hoped the camera had a better view than me!

    As the father and son came back down the stairs, we chatted briefly about the flyby, and I thanked them for (unknowingly) being my advance warning that the critical moment was approaching. I really like that they’re in my shot – they give a sense of human scale and spectacle to it, and their own focus helps direct your eye towards the castle and the planes.

    I eventually got home and was able to see if my gamble had paid off, and was pleased to see I’d captured almost exactly what I’d aimed at. Now I just need to think of another new angle for next year!

    Postscript

    They filled in some residential gardens to build this carpark. I can’t pretend I’d like the idea if they proposed it today. But I also think there’s something of real aesthetic and architectural value to it, even in its current rather grimy state.

    The Red Arrows are a part of an exceptionally well trained military air force able and ready to execute some pretty nasty jobs, but their formation flying is undeniably visually striking. The castle looks the way it does and is positioned dramatically atop that rock because of its defensive qualities, but there’s no denying it looks impressive, too. And this carpark is doing an exceptionally pragmatic and unromantic task, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t aesthetic qualities to enjoy about it.

    Perhaps one day this staircase will end up on one of those lists of Edinburgh’s most Instagrammable spots? I’m sure I’ll be revisiting it from time to time, while I look for the next new angle.

    #Architecture #carpark #castle #Edinburgh #europe #Photography #redArrows #scotland #travel

  4. The Roperie: the thread about Leith’s manufacture of the finest ropes and sails for the world

    This thread was originally written and published in September 2020.

    Today’s auction house artefact is this measuring and conversion gauge for ropes and wires issued by the Edinburgh Roperie & Sailcloth Co., Leith.

    Edinburgh Roperie & Sailcloth Company measuring and conversion guage

    Ropemaking was an established craft in North Leith and Newhaven, having been established in the latter village in the early 16th century in conjunction with King James IV’s naval expansion plans. Flodden may have killed the King and his nautical dreams in 1513 but ropemaking was a necessary and useful trade and persisted. Needing room to expand beyond the confines of those settlements, it had made the shift across the river to the Links of South Leith in 1710 when John Gilmour and Thomas Mayo took a site near the present day Salamander Street. This was the beginning of the industrial expansion of Leith beyond its medieval confines, with the glass works also expanding along the foreshore. Ropemaking in Leith and Newhaven was then consolidated under the ownership of a Captain David Deas or Daies before he and partners reconstituted the firm in 1742, changing its name to the Leith Roperie Company in 1750.

    Wood’s 1777 Town Plan of Leith, showing the rope works. Reproduced with the permission of the National Library of Scotland and the Signet Library

    Within months, the adjoining plot to the south was occupied by a competitor, the Edinburgh New Roperie Company. At least three other rope makers joined them and rope-making became the principle industry of South Leith after seafaring in the middle of the 18th century. In 1793 the rope and sail products of Leith were described as “among the best produced in Britain” by George Robertson. The principal customer of these ropeworks was the Leith whaling fleet, and when the Greenland whaling was wound down and abandoned the businesses faltered. The Leith Roperie had borrowed heavily and was wound up due to a lack of capital in 1848 leaving what was by now the Edinburgh Roperie & Sailcloth Company as the principal rope and sail maker in Leith.

    Kirkwood’s Town Plan of Edinburgh & Leith, 1817, showing the names of the various ropework owners

    The site of the Leith Roperie would be swallowed up by the railway not long after it closed, and the Edinburgh Roperie came to acquire the sites of its adjacent neighbours in the 19th century.

    The Roperie, from a company brochure of 1906, via Edinburgh Collected

    Until the mid-Victorian period, Leith was always critically short of clean water (despite the river running through it), and its public water supply from Lochend was always insufficient. The company therefore established a mill at Malleny in 1805, south of Balerno on the upper reaches of the Water of Leith, where the water was clean and plentiful, to undertake the initial processing and bleaching of fibres. The coming of plentiful water from the Edinburgh & District Water Trust made the Malleny site surplus to requirements and it was disposed of in the latter part of the 19th century.

    The advert on the left gives you an idea of the sort of things that the company were making in Leith.

    The business survived into the age of steam on account of its reputation for quality products. Indeed such was the esteem with which Leith ropes and canvas were held that the company had to fight off the threat of poor quality imitations and take out newspaper adverts to this effect.

    Liverpool General Advertiser, 1838

    It was possibly for this reason that the Roperie adopted a distinctive trademark. The list of offices around Britain and beyond gives an indication of the company’s success and reach at this time.

    Edinburgh Roperie & Sailcloth Co. brochure from 1906 via Edinburgh Collected

    At the time of this publication in 1906, the company advertised itself as having the “sixth longest rope walk in the world“, these rope walks were where the individual cords that made up the rope were gathered and twisted together in a technique that hadn’t evolved much over the centuries.

    The Leith rope walk, a mid 20th century photo from British Ropes promotional material, via Edinburgh Collected

    A 1958 advertisement used the words of the poet Henry Longfellow to convey “some of the atmosphere of our ancient craft, which has existed since the world was young“:

    In that building, long and low,
    With its windows all a-row,
    Like the port-holes of a hulk,
    Human spiders spin and spin,
    Backward down their threads so thin
    Dropping, each a hempen bulk.

    The Ropewalk, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, 1858

    The company carried out most of the stages of rope and cloth making for itself, from processing the raw ingredients through to spinning, weaving, binding and packaging of the end product. This included the bleaching, dying and waterproofing of fibres and it had an enormous drying green on the site. The fertiliser works on Salamander Street can be seen in the background.

    The drying green. Edinburgh Roperie & Sailcloth Co. brochure from 1906 via Edinburgh Collected

    It was not just maritime ropes and sails that were produced, general waterproofed natural fabrics known as “duck” were made for any sort of purpose;

    The spinning mill. Edinburgh Roperie & Sailcloth Co. brochure from 1906 via Edinburgh Collected

    And ropes for power transmission and winding;

    The steam engine of the rope spinning department. Edinburgh Roperie & Sailcloth Co. brochure from 1906 via Edinburgh Collected

    Through to agricultural binder twine. Here the company’s steam lorry is seen heading out of the works with a full load of 5lb balls of twine.

    The steam lorry. Edinburgh Roperie & Sailcloth Co. brochure from 1906 via Edinburgh Collected

    At its peak it employed over 1,000 people in Leith, including a lot of women (as spinning and weaving mills often did). It was heavy and dangerous work, with unguarded, rapidly spinning, cable-powered machinery everywhere and the ever-present silent danger of a work atmosphere laden with fibres.

    The largely female workforce (apart from the overseer) in the weaving factory. Edinburgh Roperie & Sailcloth Co. brochure from 1906 via Edinburgh Collected“Rope Hackling Machine” with woman worker at the Edinburgh Roperie, from a 1919 book “Cordage and Cordage Hemp”

    The Roperie became part of the British Ropes conglomerate in 1925, which was formed with the purpose of consolidating the British industry into a larger, more efficient concern following a huge loss of business during and after WW1. It continued to trade under its own name as part of this parent organisation.

    On Saturday 25th April 1936, the Leith works suffered a disastrous fire which engulfed most of the site, the Dundee Courier reporting that there was a “quarter mile of flames” and that it was “one of the most disastrous which had occurred in that city for many years“. The fire broke out at the western end of the works and was fanned by the wind, quickly consuming the whole length within a period of just 20 minutes. Around £75,000 of damage (c. £6 million in 2022) was done to the works, but within days the company had 100 of its 500 strong workforce back on site. Its survival after this critical episode was attributed to it being part of the larger conglomerate. The management vowed to rebuild and the Minister of Labour opened the reconstructed works on November 16th 1937; this time the factory was entirely fireproof. It was now “the most up to date ropeworks in Scotland” and “one of the most important factories” in the British Ropes group.

    200th Anniversary social evening advert for the Roperie, via Edinburgh Collected

    The company moved into production of synthetic ropes and celebrated its bicentennial in Leith in 1950 with the opening of a plant for the production of nylon sailcloth. However, this was not enough to guarantee the long term survival of the works, which still depended on jute and soft fibre-based production for much of its business. On Friday November 18th 1960, British Ropes announced it was simultaneously closing its Leith works and exiting the soft fibre and jute business altogether. Synthetic rope and cloth production was transferred to company sites in Tyneside and South Wales. Of the 400 workers in Leith, 60% were women and there would be redundancy of between £17,000 and £20,000 paid out in total. The works finally closed 9 months later after a winding down process.

    The site was then taken over by the company of Macdonald & Muir, whisky bottlers and blenders known for their Highland Queen bonded warehouse along Commercial Street, blends such as Baillie Nicol Jarvie and their ownership of John Crabbie & Co.’s green ginger wine business in Leith. They are probably best known as the parent company of the Glenmorangie Distillery, which they bought in 1918. Bath Road, by now known as Salamander Place, became the HQ, bottling and distribution plant for the company now known simply as Glenmorangie. They left in stages between 1993 and 1996, headed for Livingston where they are still going as part of the the Moët Hennessy Louis Vuitton empire.

    These monogrammed Macdonald & Muir boardroom chairs came up for sale in October 2020.

    The site lay vacant before being snapped up by property speculators who demolished everything and then went bust in 2008 during the financial crisis. It then took the best part of another 10 years for things to get moving again and the final phase of redevelopment is imminently coming to a conclusion.

    The Roperie site in 2008The Roperie site in 2014The Roperie site in 2019

    You will notice that one of the developers has branded its block The Ropeworks (a name under which it never traded) and the street names include the Ropemaker Street, Sailmaker Road and Chandler Crescent. Fans of the film Trainspotting T2 may recognise Sailmaker Road…

    Dalton’s long-established scrapyard on Salamander Street

    Note to readers: unfortunately in April 2026, a third-party plug-in more than exceeded its authority and broke many of the image links on this site. No images were lost but I will have to restore them page-by-page, which may take some time. In the meantime please bear with me while I go about rectifying this issue.

    If you have found this site useful, informative or amusing then you can help contribute towards its running costs by supporting me on ko-fi. This includes my commitment to keeping it 100% advert and AI free for all time coming, and in helping to find further unusual stories to bring you by acquiring books and paying for research.
    Or please do just share this post on social media or amongst friends and like-minded people, sites like this thrive on being shared.

    Explore Threadinburgh by map:

    Travelers' Map is loading...
    If you see this after your page is loaded completely, leafletJS files are missing.

    These threads © 2017-2026, Andy Arthur.

    NO AI TRAINING: Any use of the contents of this website to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.

    #Lochend #Logan #Restalrig #StMargaret
  5. Einen Blick in die erste Klasse des ehemaligen TEE (VT 11.5 bzw BR 601) kann man im Eisenbahnmuseum in Koblenz werfen.

    A view inside the first class of the TEE in the railway museum of Koblenz (Germany).

    #ekos #ekosphotography #train #trains #züge #trainspotter #trainspotting #eisenbahn #eisenbahnromantik #rail #railway #museum #koblenz #historie #history #vintage #heritage #historisch #ersteklasse #firstclass #reisen #travel #sessel #db #deutschebahn #bundesbahn

  6. Huh, jetzt fuhr hier auch grade ein Regio-Coloured #Dosto vorbei.

    Wurde von einer Lok geschoben, also kein #Twindexx und somit kein Main-Neckar-Ried-Express.

    Eher so ein Main-Spessart-Express und die Richtung würde da auch stimmen.

    Aber was macht der nur hier‽

    Statt wie sonst immer nur Güterverkehr und die #HLB RB75 heute auch wieder viele #ICE unterwegs hier; mal wieder eine #Weiche kaputt? ;p

    #BahnBubble #TrainSpotting

  7. Here's a little nez cassé that I waited patiently for :) Isn't it cute?

    I really like this picture (and it might become my phone background one of these days) - I hope you like it too!

    📍Gare de Grenoble Universités - Gières

    #grenoble #sncf #nezcasse #bb22200 #trainspotting #trains #trainphotography

  8. George Douglas Brown (1869–1902) was born #OTD, 26 January – best known for his 1901 novel THE HOUSE WITH THE GREEN SHUTTERS:

    “…the TRAINSPOTTING of its day… an angry young man’s response to the misrepresentation of contemporary Scottish life”

    A 🎂 🧵

    1/7

    list.co.uk/news/39535/george-d

    #Scottish #literature #20thcentury #modernism #postmodernism

  9. Department in Ryde really is an absolute gem. They’ve currently got a puppet exhibition on and the baby from Trainspotting is crawling across the ceiling. 🫣

    #Puppet #Puppets #Art #Exhibition #Exhibitions #IsleOfWight