Join Rob for a video travelogue covering a ride on the Pullman “Sapphire” in an all day steam train adventure from London Paddington across the Cotswolds to Worcestershire.
The Lackawanna River isn’t orange anymore. At least not here behind the levee in The Plot, a jagged patchwork of residential streets on the north side of Scranton, Pennsylvania where oxidized water once signaled industrial prosperity. This is anthracite coal country. Well, it was until six decades ago when decreasing demand and rising costs drove the miners into the sunlight for good. There’s still a small fortune of coal under
Pennsylvania Station, opened 107 years ago as a great entry to New York City and destroyed in reckless fashion over the past six decades, has become the poster child for America’s crumbling infrastructure; a dubious honor which tragically undersells the magnitude of cultural disaster lurking among its three subterranean levels. Recent media attention on derailments and signal failures may give the impression that the station’s current troubles happened overnight. They
Sometimes I wish I was ignorant of industrial history. I could cross out of service railroad tracks without wanting to know where they went and why. I could pass an abandoned factory and not wonder about the people who worked there and the products they made. I could look at a rusty hunk of metal and see the decay rather than the machine it once was. I could live in
I’m on a bus headed east across southern Ontario. The leading edge of a storm front hasn’t quite made it to the horizon, leaving room for a narrow slice of orange and purple sunrise to glow through, just enough to brighten the snow covered fields and outline the silhouettes of trees scattered along farm boundaries, roads and creeks. We have just passed a cleared plot of land carefully transformed into