What do you think?
Rate this book
Small Island by Little Train: A Narrow-Gauge Adventure
An exploration of the joys and idiosyncrasies of Britain’s one-off narrow-gauge railway lines. Features: • A unique journey around Britain’s narrow-gauge steam railway networks • Informative guide to lesser-known and eccentric railways across the country • An alternative railway history for lovers of steam heritage. Content: From stalwart little locomotives of topographic necessity, to the maverick engines of one man’s whimsy, Britain’s narrow-gauge steam trains run on tracks a world apart from its regimented mainlines. In Small Island by Little Train, eccentricity enthusiast Chris Arnot sets out to discover their stories. • The miniature railway on the Kent coast, used for Home Guard military trains during World War II, and later the school commute for dozens of local school children • The UK’s only Alpine-style rack-and-pinion railway, scaling one of Britain’s highest mountains • The five different gauges of railway circling one man’s landscaped garden, and the team building their own trains to run on it • The legendary Peak District railway closed and never reopened – what, if anything remains of it? Far more than mere relics of the nation’s industrial past, or battered veterans of wartime Britain, these are also stories of epic feats of preservation, volunteerism, tourism, and local history. They are an exploration of idiosyncrasy, enthusiasm and eccentricity. Or, to put it another way, a tale of Britishness.
- GenresNonfictionTravelRailways
320 pages, Paperback
Published August 1, 2018
2 people are currently reading
26 people want to read
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews
September 11, 2017
interesting look at narrow gauge railways of the uk each with its own character and the heritage of railway building to service long gone industries and how some have been preserved.
October 19, 2022
Interesting look into a smorgasbord of different narrow guage lines around the UK written in an biographical journal style similar to Bill Bryson.
While some chapters are engaging (especially the Welsh narrow guage lines) there are quite a few chapters which are a bit dull or contain a few to many forces jokes.
Interesting enough book if you can get a good deal on it and have an interest for narrow guage railways.
While some chapters are engaging (especially the Welsh narrow guage lines) there are quite a few chapters which are a bit dull or contain a few to many forces jokes.
Interesting enough book if you can get a good deal on it and have an interest for narrow guage railways.
September 11, 2017
After reading Simon Bradley's magisterial The Railways: Nation, Network and People, my patience for anything lighter and more superficial on the subject has thinned considerably. Given that this book has been written by someone who clearly likes railways but is not an enthusiast, for people who also like railways but have not hitherto taken much interest in them (and published by an organisation whose entire raison d'etre is Not-Railways), it's little surprise then that I found it rather trifling and uninspired. If you know anything about the lines covered here, you will probably not learn much that is new about them, and if you haven't previously heard of them, you won't discover much more than you can find out from their websites. After a cursory overview of the background and particular features of each line, Chris Arnot typically interviews a member or volunteer, which doesn't generally yield any great insight, and, presumably for local colour, throws in some badinage with fellow passengers, which adds little more. Where the "adventure" lay, I'm not sure: "assignment" would have been a more apposite term. He travels to each line in turn, talks to a driver or manager, wrings mild fun from a few typical passengers, takes an uneventful ride and then goes home again. Repeat. (For the Statfold Barn Railway, rather than making the effort to arrange a proper interview in advance with owner Graham Lee, who presumably has a few good tales to tell, he tries to buttonhole Lee during a busy open day, leading predictably to a few snatched remarks that tell us little.) This volume is clearly aimed at the casual reader in search of ideas for a nice day out in the car (preferably with AA cover), rather than anyone with a deeper interest. On that level, it may suffice for a single read but the missed opportunity to produce a much keener and more involved account must be regretted.
Last year, I lauded the many compact, attractively-designed and produced hardback non-fiction works currently being published; the publishing industry is clearly determined to make me eat those words by churning out ever more attractively-produced but disposable shelf-filler like this. For a convenient sampling, visit your local branch of remaindered emporium The Works (where no doubt this book will be appearing soon): endless reams of beautiful jackets enclosing tomes that are either compendiums of allegedly 'interesting' facts (which are hence dull as dishwater to read) or descriptive travelogues with a slightly quirky angle such as this one, commissioned from dependable jobbing writers (and more talented cover artists) to meet perceived gaps in the catalogue or answer a focus group and written with little flair for or analysis of the topic. These are not books for people who like railways; they're aimed at people who know people who like railways and are otherwise difficult to buy gifts for. In fact, so successful was this particular work at the task that even I mistakenly thought it would be a great gift for myself. But they will never be cherished by the recipients, as anyone who is enthusiastic about a subject tends to have their own particular, individual angle on that subject that a generalist work cannot hope to address.
It doesn't have to be this way: the AA also published Dixe Wills's Tiny Stations: An Uncommon Odyssey Around Britain's Railway Request Stops, a beautiful little hardback overflowing with personality that offers a distinctive voice and a unique take. More of that, please.
Last year, I lauded the many compact, attractively-designed and produced hardback non-fiction works currently being published; the publishing industry is clearly determined to make me eat those words by churning out ever more attractively-produced but disposable shelf-filler like this. For a convenient sampling, visit your local branch of remaindered emporium The Works (where no doubt this book will be appearing soon): endless reams of beautiful jackets enclosing tomes that are either compendiums of allegedly 'interesting' facts (which are hence dull as dishwater to read) or descriptive travelogues with a slightly quirky angle such as this one, commissioned from dependable jobbing writers (and more talented cover artists) to meet perceived gaps in the catalogue or answer a focus group and written with little flair for or analysis of the topic. These are not books for people who like railways; they're aimed at people who know people who like railways and are otherwise difficult to buy gifts for. In fact, so successful was this particular work at the task that even I mistakenly thought it would be a great gift for myself. But they will never be cherished by the recipients, as anyone who is enthusiastic about a subject tends to have their own particular, individual angle on that subject that a generalist work cannot hope to address.
It doesn't have to be this way: the AA also published Dixe Wills's Tiny Stations: An Uncommon Odyssey Around Britain's Railway Request Stops, a beautiful little hardback overflowing with personality that offers a distinctive voice and a unique take. More of that, please.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
July 18, 2018
This book looks like it should be good. It's bound and printed nicely, well laid out and is nicely illustrated. However, sadly for me the written content proved quite miserable and I only finished the book because it was given to me with the kindest thought. Chris Arnot seems to revel in not really being into his subject. What could have been a fascinating book about the incredible narrow gauge railway heritage of the UK is instead more a loose collection of encounters with members of the public and a list of the beers he drank on the way. I think perhaps he was trying to do a Bill Bryson but it really didn't work for me. Maybe for someone with little knowledge of the subject and who enjoys travelogue style writing this book would be fine but for me there was barely a page that didn't grate. It's a shame as the idea is great and written by someone with a passion for the subject and a knowledge to match (Arnot seems to revel in his ignorance) it could have been an excellent book.
September 14, 2017
Charming tour of a selection of narrow gauge railways from around the UK, with a nice focus on the role these railways played in shaping the country during the early 20th Century, and the stellar work being carried out by volunteers to restore and keep them running.
September 25, 2018
This book is shamelessly aimed at the Bill Bryson market, from the derivative title to a cover design that is, shall we say, a very thorough homage to that sported by The Road to Little Dribbling, albeit with artwork depicting a narrow gauge railway (incidentally, and perhaps portentously, one that doesn't feature in the book).
Sadly, Arnot is no Bryson. His writing lacks not only the wit, the incisive observation and the gift for vivid description, but also Bryson's ability to construct a deeper narrative from his adventures. There's a vague attempt at summing up, but it doesn't get much further than astonishment at how much variety there is in British landscape and how much work people have put into keeping old railways running, and it doesn't take a whole book to say that.
Instead, we get an annoying patter replete with lame jokes and wry conversational interjections that really begin to grate as the book wears on. (No, really. Now, where were we?) The chapter on the Ffestiniog railway begins with a whole paragraph devoted to double F jokes and there are punning links that you wouldn't let your own father get away with (see 'railway churn-ey' in the chapter on the line built to transport milk). Similarly artificial are his chapter endings, most of which try for some kind of witty callback, although there's the odd attempt at a cliffhanger ('difficult to believe that within two days I would be on the Norfolk Broads waiting to catch another little train' - why is that difficult to believe, WHY? You're writing a book about little trains for crying out loud).
All of which would probably be forgivable if the content made up for it, but very early on it becomes clear that he has nothing interesting to say about narrow gauge railways. He's done enough of a cursory google to provide a sufficient overview of each railway's background, but beyond that his insights are tediously repetitive - his limited ability to describe landscape doesn't stretch much further than 'stunning green hills', so he resorts to making personal comments about his fellow travellers, occasionally also asking for their opinions so that they can invariably tell him that the appeal of narrow gauge railways is 'it's like stepping back in time'. And because he singularly fails to describe the journeys themselves, his mangled past continuous tense sits awkwardly alongside historical gobbets as if to try to persuade you that you've been on the journey with him all along, even though he wasn't describing most of it because he was regaling you with background or witty asides. Weirdly, the most extensively described journey is the mainline train to Dalegarth - once he arrives at the Ravenglass and Eskdale railway he's more interested in crowbarring in references to Dylan Thomas, which is also weird because after five chapters in Wales he's definitely not there any more. Indeed, there are scattergun literary and pop culture references throughout, though it's not clear whether he's trying to show how much he knows or just pad out the chapters in any way he can without resorting to talking about the narrow gauge railway he would like us to believe he's still travelling on.
Most blindingly of all, he just doesn't seem all that interested in railways. 'When my former publisher suggested a book on UK's narrow gauge railways,' he tells us in his acknowledgements, 'I was a bit sceptical at first'. No kidding. Even without the wry descriptions of some of the more enthusiastic people he meets and distances himself from ('a bit "anorak-ish"'), the fact that he describes the pubs he visits with far more colour than he brings to his chosen topic is a dead giveaway. And it goes some way to explaining why he is so unable to communicate the experience of riding on these railways, and - surely most vital in a book visiting so many - the things that make them different and unique. He gives no sense of the beautifully smelly, ugly, functionality of the Sittingbourne and Kemsley line, or the atmosphere the strange industrial stilted section still evokes before giving way to marshland. He gives no sense that the smaller Romney, Hythe and Dymchurch engines are miniature versions of standard gauge locomotives, and again completely fails to give any sense of the dramatic changes in the coastal landscape they run through. He even fails to spot that the Leighton Buzzard Light Railway is, to be brutally honest, almost completely lacking in atmosphere, running as it does for most of its distance along a series of suburban back gardens. There are railways here that I haven't visited, and I got no sense of what to expect from those, either.
His lack of interest perhaps also explains why this is such a hotchpotch, incomplete account. Couldn't be bothered to make it all the way to Cornwall? Thought five Welsh railways was enough? Cheaper to pad out a couple of chapters by visiting a couple of railways that no longer exist? Who knows, but the diffidence with which he goes about his journey suggest someone unwilling to spend any longer writing this book than necessary.
Give me "anorak-ish" enthusiasm any day.
Sadly, Arnot is no Bryson. His writing lacks not only the wit, the incisive observation and the gift for vivid description, but also Bryson's ability to construct a deeper narrative from his adventures. There's a vague attempt at summing up, but it doesn't get much further than astonishment at how much variety there is in British landscape and how much work people have put into keeping old railways running, and it doesn't take a whole book to say that.
Instead, we get an annoying patter replete with lame jokes and wry conversational interjections that really begin to grate as the book wears on. (No, really. Now, where were we?) The chapter on the Ffestiniog railway begins with a whole paragraph devoted to double F jokes and there are punning links that you wouldn't let your own father get away with (see 'railway churn-ey' in the chapter on the line built to transport milk). Similarly artificial are his chapter endings, most of which try for some kind of witty callback, although there's the odd attempt at a cliffhanger ('difficult to believe that within two days I would be on the Norfolk Broads waiting to catch another little train' - why is that difficult to believe, WHY? You're writing a book about little trains for crying out loud).
All of which would probably be forgivable if the content made up for it, but very early on it becomes clear that he has nothing interesting to say about narrow gauge railways. He's done enough of a cursory google to provide a sufficient overview of each railway's background, but beyond that his insights are tediously repetitive - his limited ability to describe landscape doesn't stretch much further than 'stunning green hills', so he resorts to making personal comments about his fellow travellers, occasionally also asking for their opinions so that they can invariably tell him that the appeal of narrow gauge railways is 'it's like stepping back in time'. And because he singularly fails to describe the journeys themselves, his mangled past continuous tense sits awkwardly alongside historical gobbets as if to try to persuade you that you've been on the journey with him all along, even though he wasn't describing most of it because he was regaling you with background or witty asides. Weirdly, the most extensively described journey is the mainline train to Dalegarth - once he arrives at the Ravenglass and Eskdale railway he's more interested in crowbarring in references to Dylan Thomas, which is also weird because after five chapters in Wales he's definitely not there any more. Indeed, there are scattergun literary and pop culture references throughout, though it's not clear whether he's trying to show how much he knows or just pad out the chapters in any way he can without resorting to talking about the narrow gauge railway he would like us to believe he's still travelling on.
Most blindingly of all, he just doesn't seem all that interested in railways. 'When my former publisher suggested a book on UK's narrow gauge railways,' he tells us in his acknowledgements, 'I was a bit sceptical at first'. No kidding. Even without the wry descriptions of some of the more enthusiastic people he meets and distances himself from ('a bit "anorak-ish"'), the fact that he describes the pubs he visits with far more colour than he brings to his chosen topic is a dead giveaway. And it goes some way to explaining why he is so unable to communicate the experience of riding on these railways, and - surely most vital in a book visiting so many - the things that make them different and unique. He gives no sense of the beautifully smelly, ugly, functionality of the Sittingbourne and Kemsley line, or the atmosphere the strange industrial stilted section still evokes before giving way to marshland. He gives no sense that the smaller Romney, Hythe and Dymchurch engines are miniature versions of standard gauge locomotives, and again completely fails to give any sense of the dramatic changes in the coastal landscape they run through. He even fails to spot that the Leighton Buzzard Light Railway is, to be brutally honest, almost completely lacking in atmosphere, running as it does for most of its distance along a series of suburban back gardens. There are railways here that I haven't visited, and I got no sense of what to expect from those, either.
His lack of interest perhaps also explains why this is such a hotchpotch, incomplete account. Couldn't be bothered to make it all the way to Cornwall? Thought five Welsh railways was enough? Cheaper to pad out a couple of chapters by visiting a couple of railways that no longer exist? Who knows, but the diffidence with which he goes about his journey suggest someone unwilling to spend any longer writing this book than necessary.
Give me "anorak-ish" enthusiasm any day.
November 20, 2019
Each chapter deals with a separate narrow-gauge line. It is not only a history and celebration of each line, but shows what volunteers can do and still do. It celebrates those who give up their time and muscle, the joy they get from the 'job'. As the last chapter says they get things done in difficult places.
An interesting, informative and funny read, showing the history of many rural areas and industries of the UK. I did feel that this may have been a jaunt rather than an enthusiast's opportunity to immerse in the culture. Nonetheless, I enjoyed it.
An interesting, informative and funny read, showing the history of many rural areas and industries of the UK. I did feel that this may have been a jaunt rather than an enthusiast's opportunity to immerse in the culture. Nonetheless, I enjoyed it.
February 12, 2019
Alas, I am disappoint. At no point in this book did I get the feeling the author particularly cared about the subject matter, so I wonder why he wrote the book in the first place.
Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews