Every Man Needs A Shed

Life and Games (but mostly games) from Tony Boydell: Dad, Husband and Independent UK Game Designer, Agricola fanboy and jealous admirer of Carl Chudyk. www.surprisedstaregames.co.uk
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Tunnel Vision

Anthony Boydell
United Kingdom
Newent. Glos
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Every homo sapiens needs an outbuilding within the curtelage of their property
Welcome...to my Shed!
Once again, the end of the working week beckons and - with the car in for a proper Service - Friday will be joyously, comfortably work-from-home! This means that departing Cardiff on the Thursday afternoon is infused with a special demob-happy fizz, so - seeing as the weather had looked gorgeous - I took the long route home and diverted for 'an explore'!

There was a temporary climatic blip, as I beetled through Newport and along the motorway to Chepstow, when the skies opened and the mother of all thunderstorms flooded the three lanes of speeding commuters with a couple of inches of water! It had all gone by the time I crossed the Wye in to England and followed my Google Maps up the lanes to Netherton Halt.

Why Netherton Halt? Well, the Wye Valley railway broke off from the main line at Chepstow and ran up through the village of Tidenham - and the halt - to enter a 1200 yard-long tunnel and emerge at Tintern on the other side of the hill. I'd managed to source some co-ordinates off of the web and decided I wanted to go tunnel hunting!

The lane ran over an innocuous stone bridge with a convenient lay-by on one side; I parked, grabbed my coat and set off in to the trees:

Only a few paces in and I couldn't miss it! My heart leapt...there were still rails!!!

It was a steep climb down to the track bed.

Once down, the whole channel was crunching underfoot - 50 years of cracked stones and fallen branches.

There was no way to walk or climb inside the tunnel PLUS all the metalwork was painted with black grease!

I could sneak the phone in to the gaps to take some snaps, though.

The cool air exhaled out of the long dark...

Simply my favourite picture: peaceful, eerily-still...

The grand entrance, mortared in to the rough natural stone.

Farewell; it's time to go.

In the grand scheme of Snowdonian things, all of the above overgrown splendor is summarised in this bit of my prototype Wye Valley Tourer scenario:

At least there's no grease on the cards!
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