Unusually, I had something interesting to do this evening - and having planned in advance, I knew I needed to be back on home turf by around 5pm. Thinking about how I could use the day, rather than in just moping around my house, I hit on a plan to head south and cover the branches which radiate from Exeter. I'd not covered these for many, many years - and those travels were some of my earliest excursions. So, having assembled some vague memories and booked some actually frighteningly cheap advance tickets, I set off for a day out in Devon. Despite a slightly later than usual start, it was still dark, cold and a little miserable. The week had been warmer - no bad thing, but the initial relief that the snow had melted was replaced by a gloom which the short, grey January days were doing nothing to put right.

A swift change at Taunton, and soon we were arriving at Exeter. Here there was time for the all-important breakfast before heading up the line to Barnstaple. My memory of arriving here included a quaint but rather dilapidated station building, the town bridge and a windy walk over the river. A bit of sunshine appeared as we started the ramshackle ride up the branch on a Class 142, but by the time we reached the coast, a grey mist had descended. Initially I was surprised by the refurbishment of the station. A tidy platform with a canopy and a pleasant little cafe in the clean and spacious booking office. This was all housed in the original buildings. Once outside, things were a bit disorienting, as a new bypass has taken the main road away from the station, leaving it at the end of a quiet terrace leading to the bridge. The empty land between the river and the railway was now being built on - where no less than four other lines once joined the current, former London and South Western route. This included a large out-of-town Tesco Extra which might perhaps change things a little here? Once in town, I was struck by how sensible planning and development have kept the High Street an important focus. Plenty of small shops, branches of national chains and even a small shopping centre jostled for position beside the busy covered Pannier Market. People were using the shops, stopping to talk and enjoying the cafes. It was a revelation to someone who lives in a tired, run-down town which has been similarly condemned in the past. An hour wasn't quite long enough to wander, but nonetheless I made my way back to the station for the train to Exmouth.

The run back down the branch and through the centre of Exeter was a little busier than the train up had been. There were plenty of people using the train to get to the shops, and a fair few already heading back once we set off again from Exeter Central and onto the branch. The Exmouth branch had also changed little, save for an impressive walking and cycling path which ran alongside the line, often raised over the wet boggy land on stilts. Noted the small, attractive village of Lympstone which would merit some exploration perhaps in future, before arriving at the modern and rather tired looking terminus at Exmouth. I could remember less of this end of the line, and certainly not the subway leading into the Town Centre. The High Street had seen some unsympathetic work, and perhaps the greatest shock was that the quiet formal garden which sat in the middle of town had been pulled up and replaced very recently by a somewhat bleak concrete plaza. Tried to orient my memory of sitting here for lunch around sixteen years ago, but couldn't. Instead, went to the pub for a pleasant meal before heading back to the station. I wasn't impressed with how Exmouth had tried to achieve the sense of a bigger town at the expense of a soul. It came across as tired and beaten, not unlike some aspects of home.

Plenty of time to enjoy coffee in a little late afternoon sun before departing Exeter. An earlier bridge strike on the Berks and Hants route meant the train which would work our service had terminated here, short of Plymouth, it's usual destination. Found it sitting awaiting booked time in platform 6, rarely used by me since the 2004 summer services. Took a snap against the wall, for posterity. Despite being here in good time to start the journey, a minor technical hitch delayed our departure by around ten minutes. This just ate into a longer wait at Taunton for the train home, so didn't really affect things too much.

It was strange to revisit these places, not really so far away from home after so long. Barnstaple was encouraging and inspiring, and Exmouth disappointing in equal measure. However, this reminded me of the inquisitive interest in the rest of the country which set me off on these escapades in the first place. Sometimes, staying fairly local provides surprising insights.

It's not often I need to begin a live review with a picture of the venue, but on this occasion at least it saves a lot of explanation to bewildered readers. Trevor Moss and Hannah-Lou promoted their first album by touring the UK's village halls, and now following signing to Heavenly and in advance of their second record, they are touring the remaining Tin Tabernacles around the land. I'm lucky enough to have one of these originally temporary places of worship fairly near to my home. However, being an avowed atheist, despite having passed by over the years of living here, I'd never been inside until tonight. There was an authentic 'church fete' feel to proceedings from the start. Access to the church was via a narrow bridge over a rhyne, which was signposted with a hand painted board and a little lantern. This was necessary - it was very dark indeed out here in the sticks. Once inside the tiny building, I was greeted with a wood panelled room with small and uncomfortable looking wooden pews. The stage was a tiny raised area beyond the altar rail, and tickets were checked in a cupboard just inside the door. All in all, this was an inspired choice of venue - and I harbour secret hopes there may be ways of using it again.

So following a surreal introduction from the local Vicar, first up was Pepe Belmonte. Pepe's origins in West Cork, and from his own accounts a fairly nomadic life, have left him with a curiously placeless and unfocused accent. This allows him to slip effortlessly from his own, simple and precise English folk ballads to a take on 'Carrickfergus' with little effort and a massive confidence. If anything, his delivery was hushed and a little restrained, but that probably had a lot to do with this being a truly tiny venue with the audience quite literally in his face. It may also have been due to the fact that the Church Committee seemed to have bagged the majority of the tiny amount of tickets available for this show, and were clearly expecting some appropriate and wholesome entertainment! Pepe's strengths tonight were in the more upbeat numbers, where his lightning-like picking technique and malleable voice warmed-up the restrained crowd. He closed his set by inviting Pete Greenwood and Trevor Moss onto the spatially inadequate stage for an impromptu and rather excellent take on Gillian Welch's 'Everything is Free'.

After a short break, Pete Greenwood took to the stage alone for his brief set. Originating from Leeds, Pete seemed to embody the self-deprecating and gruff northern humour I've always associated with the city. This seeps through his songs, bittersweet stories which by his own account take a darker turn during the writing process. His delivery is quiet, understated and earthy - a whisper of a voice which occasionally soars when the song needs it to, most particularly on his own composition 'The 88'. Again, some truly superb guitar picking held the church spellbound. Somewhere mid-set Pete played an inspired and surprising cover of Stuart Murdoch's 'Another Saturday' - an obscure gem from 2009's 'Dark Was The Night' charity compilation. Pete left the stage as he'd found it - apologetic and clumsy, but without any need. This was remarkable music. We just don't get this kind of thing here!

Another interval, where the highly symbolic acts of passing around free glasses of wine and collecting donations took place. I'm assured though that this was to avoid licensing issues, rather than for any more sinister liturgical reasons. Finally, Trevor Moss and Hannah-Lou stepped up and we were treated to a warm, engaging set from this funny, clever and unashamedly enthusiastic pair. Starting with 'The Allotment Song' from their first album, I looked around to see the tiny audience spellbound and open-mouthed at their simple, clear and shimmering performance. The people who'd turned out just because "it seemed like the rather fun thing to do on a Saturday night in Burnham" looked most stunned. This was original music, from genuine talents, and here on their doorstep. The pair's voices twisted around each other - sometimes blending into one clear, high note. Working through a number of further older songs such as 'Concorde' and the desperate and plaintive 'England', Trevor and Hannah interspersed the compositions with banter which felt more like a conversation in the intimate setting. They were genuinely engaging people, clearly very happy to be here - and indeed on this tour of Tin Tabernacles - and grateful for the support, even in this tiniest of venues. Towards the end of the set, they talked about The Lantern Society - the London folk club they'd started, and how they'd met the other musicians on the tour. This led into a very different but equally affecting version of Pete Greenwood's 'The 88', rather a surprise to him too it seemed. The new songs performed tonight bode well for the recently recorded new record too, with Hannah's voice taking perhaps more of a foreground role on some of the numbers, and a new complexity which they pulled off in a tricky live setting without breaking a sweat. The audience reception to the set was as near rapturous as things get around here - it had been a successful night in Edithmead.

As people started to shuffle out, delayed by the encouraging activity around the merchandise area near the door and with an exhortation to join holy communion tomorrow morning ringing in their ears, I realised this was probably a one off. If we ever asked the Vicar to let us do something else like this he'd probably cluck and sigh and say "we'd have to see...". So, putting ideas of future cultural activities aside, I contented myself with having been involved in a truly unique evening and hearing some beautiful music.

Up later than usual after a good sleep - no doubt due to plenty of rather fresh air yesterday at Rugby. Pottered around until a text message arrived - despite damp weather a trip to Cardiff was on the cards. Got ready and headed for the station for the 1006 to Bristol. Quick change at Bristol onto a severely overcrowded 150242 for Cardiff.

Slow progress west of Newport due to an engineering possession on the fast lines. Noted several unusal locomotives working here, but this led to things being a little quieter than usual - particularly where freight is concerned.

Arrived to a very damp Central station, so took a short spin out to Queen Street on a Rhymney-bound 37425 just for fun. Also noted 37405 and 37411 working the Rhymney service today. Back to Central in time for two Class 60 hauled freights. No pictures due to being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and too wet to venture out beyond the platform canopy.

Failed to see my last Class 143, but saw almost the entirety of the others, along with a good supply of the usual units. Finally got a decent pictorial record of Wessex Trains second three-car Class 158.

Took another short trip as far as Radyr via the City Line in order to see what was on Canton depot. Some amusement from the guard when we attempted to pronounce our destination in order to buy tickets! Noted several of the new units cascaded from Scotrail, including one rumoured to have arrived this morning. Changed platforms at Radyr and headed back to Central via Cathays and Queen Street.

Meandered damply home via a photo stop at Newport and a short spell at Temple Meads.

First day in new job. Feels strange to move only 20 feet or so but have such a different role. Things go reasonably well - lots of new information to get to grips with, which hopefully will eventually sink in. Off to Bristol afterwards for a talk on Historical Gardens of Gloucestershire by Tim Mowl. As ever, entertaining stuff with some fascinating historical facts and anecdotes thrown in. Quick pint at the Highbury Vaults. Too sleepy even to check email.