Hover Fly
He, him, his
- Location
- Besides the lake, beneath the trees
The engine number is 4xxxx but the camera pans away too quickly.
What are we missing?
- Thread starter vernon
- Start date
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The engine number is 4xxxx but the camera pans away too quickly.
Paladin - York
New Member
- Location
- York
Hover Fly
He, him, his
- Location
- Besides the lake, beneath the trees
It's a black 5 (no splashers).
The station scenes where filmed at Watford and Willesden, and mixed up in the film, which is why the train seems to go out the way it came in.
The station scenes where filmed at Watford and Willesden, and mixed up in the film, which is why the train seems to go out the way it came in.
RedRider
Pulling through
- Location
- Location Embrocation
What are we missing? Rubber-covered hooks 
Loved the pipes, the wool and the egalitarian emphasis.
Loved the pipes, the wool and the egalitarian emphasis.
slowmotion
Quite dreadful
- Location
- lost somewhere
Hover Fly
He, him, his
- Location
- Besides the lake, beneath the trees
Father taught me to do that. He was still cocking his leg over the bars in his 80s.
slowmotion
Quite dreadful
- Location
- lost somewhere
Respect. Actually, I suppose it makes sense if your bars are really low compared to your saddle. I think that I'm a bit too old to add that trick to my very limited list of skills however.
Globalti
Legendary Member
Since most cyclists wear helmets nowadays, how would we blokes get on with Brylcreem? Yeuch!
I can remember my grandparents and an uncle from the early 1960s, the permanent smell of cigarettes - my uncle sometimes used to burn us accidentally with the tip when he was messing around with us - the smell of Brylcreem, the antimacassars on the armchairs, the trousers worn halfway up the chest, tie pins, pipes, the awful-smelling Airwick in the toilet, Grandpa's old MG saloon, so many things.
I can remember my grandparents and an uncle from the early 1960s, the permanent smell of cigarettes - my uncle sometimes used to burn us accidentally with the tip when he was messing around with us - the smell of Brylcreem, the antimacassars on the armchairs, the trousers worn halfway up the chest, tie pins, pipes, the awful-smelling Airwick in the toilet, Grandpa's old MG saloon, so many things.
