Sunshine, Sakura and Splinters – thanks to Rokr.
Built and reviewed by: John A MacInnes. Build number 74, October 2026.
All aboard the plywood express
Shortened review – 500 words.
Build 74 · Model LKS01 · 339 pieces · Recommended age 14+
ROKR’s Strolling in the Sunshine takes the familiar Japanese street scene, complete with cherry blossom trees and an elevated tram, and adds moving parts, lighting, sound and a rotating background. It’s an ambitious little model, but does the finished result justify the effort and the price?
I bought mine from Amazon UK for £44.95 after a promotional discount, and there’s certainly plenty packed into the box. The 339-piece kit includes a moving tram, illuminated street scene, mechanical background and built-in sound system. The layered buildings create good depth, and the Japanese-inspired design makes for an attractive display.
The 54-page instruction manual is well laid out, with clear illustrations, a useful electrical diagram, a colour parts list and QR codes for some of the trickier stages. I particularly like being able to test the electronics before installation. However, the videos aren’t always helpful, and fitting the tram proved unnecessarily frustrating until I worked out the importance of correctly aligning the Z2 plastic cog with the railway bed.
There are also a few things worth knowing before you start building.
The plywood is extremely thin in places, particularly the 1.6mm sheets. Although the laser cutting is generally clean, I encountered splintering on numerous components, including some on their rear surfaces. 1.6mm sheets was a first for me. Considerable sanding was needed, and I broke two pieces during construction. Some joints are extremely tight, so resist the temptation to force anything into place, particularly when you have square tenons and rounded mortises.
My advice is to cut delicate components carefully from their sheets rather than pressing them out. Larger pieces, particularly the G1 framing section, can delaminate if handled too roughly.
Watch out for the A26 components, too. Replacement plastic washers are supplied, apparently to address an issue with the original wooden parts, but the printed instructions haven’t been updated to reflect the change. Check the box before assembly and use the replacement washers to avoid an unnecessary strip-down later.
The printed blossom trees are perfectly acceptable, but I added pink and white blossom material using PVA glue to give them more realistic texture and depth. It’s a simple modification that makes a noticeable difference.
Another disappointment is the noise from the rotating backdrop. Despite the cogs engaging with a foam rubber track, the mechanism is noisier than I expected. I suspect the wooden structure supporting the backdrop, combined with the PVC or plastic printed film itself, contributes to the sound. It detracts from an otherwise attractive feature, and I’d like to see ROKR investigate how it might be reduced.
My final thoughts? There’s a clever design here, and the moving tram, layered buildings and blossom create a pleasing miniature scene. However, the plywood quality makes construction more demanding than it should be, while the noisy backdrop is another drawback.
Would I buy it again? No. At £44.95, I expect components that don’t require so much remedial work. Standard MDF sheets might offer a more consistent building experience, and improvements to the backdrop mechanism would help considerably.
The potential is there, but the materials let this one down.
Full review – Introduction
Well, here we go again with another book nook review, although this time we’re leaving the Christmas decorations firmly in the cupboard.
After the snow, soldiers, mice, sweets and a wooden chap with a rather questionable jawline of my last build, we’re heading somewhere considerably more peaceful. No battles, no armies and, as far as I can tell, absolutely no sign of anyone being turned into a nutcracker.
Instead, we’re going for a stroll.
This one is Strolling in the Sunshine, from ROKR, and on the face of it, the name pretty much tells you what you’re getting. It’s a miniature scene built around that rather pleasant idea of taking a walk on a sunny day, surrounded by the sort of things that make you want to slow down and have a look around.
Which sounds wonderfully relaxing.
Although, as anyone who has built one of these kits will know, the phrase “strolling in the sunshine” tends to take on a slightly different meaning when you’re the person sitting at a workbench surrounded by hundreds of tiny pieces of laser-cut wood.
Because relaxing it probably isn’t.
This is another example of what makes the better book nook kits so interesting. You’re not simply assembling a miniature room and putting it between two books. You’re creating a little scene with its own atmosphere, details and personality, and hopefully ending up with something that makes you stop and look at it rather than simply thinking, “Well, that’s finished.”
And that’s where ROKR has a bit of a reputation to live up to.
I’ve built enough of their kits now to know that they tend to have plenty going on. There can be some very clever engineering hidden among what initially appear to be fairly innocent-looking pieces of plywood. What looks like a simple miniature scene on the box can turn into a surprisingly involved building exercise once everything is spread across the workbench.
Which is exactly why I don’t judge these things from the box photograph.
A pretty picture is all very well, but it doesn’t tell me whether the pieces actually fit, whether the construction makes sense, whether the instructions have been written by someone who has actually built the thing, or whether there are any little surprises waiting for me somewhere around step 47.
And there usually are.
Then there’s the question of detail.
A sunny outdoor scene gives a manufacturer plenty of opportunities to throw in the little touches that turn a collection of wooden parts into something that actually feels alive. Plants, furniture, architectural details, decorations and all those tiny bits and pieces that you probably won’t notice individually until you realise that, collectively, they’re what makes the finished model work.
That’s the bit I’m always looking for.
Because a miniature doesn’t have to be enormous to be impressive. Sometimes it’s the smallest details that make you lean closer and think, “Hang on… that’s actually rather clever.”
Of course, there’s also the small matter of actually building it.
By now I’ve developed a reasonably healthy suspicion of anything described as “easy to assemble”. Easy is a relative term when you’re dealing with tiny components, printed paper, delicate wooden parts and fingers that weren’t designed by nature for precision engineering.
What I want to see is whether ROKR has got the balance right.
Is this a kit that a reasonably experienced builder can enjoy without constantly reaching for the swear box? Are the components well made? Does everything fit as it should? Are the instructions clear enough to keep the build moving rather than sending me back through the previous pages wondering where I went wrong?
And, perhaps most importantly, does the finished scene actually capture the feeling suggested by that rather cheerful title?
Because Strolling in the Sunshine sets a fairly specific mood before I’ve even taken the first piece out of the box.
It needs to feel bright, relaxed and inviting.
It needs to be the miniature equivalent of wandering somewhere on a lovely day with absolutely nowhere you need to be.
Which is quite an achievement to ask of a pile of laser-cut wood.
Then there’s my customisation problem.
I say “problem” because by now we all know where this is going.
I can look at a finished miniature and see exactly what the manufacturer intended. Unfortunately, I can also immediately start wondering what it would look like with a little extra paint here, a different finish there, perhaps some additional detail somewhere else.
It’s a condition.
There is no known cure.
So before I get carried away with the paint pens, glue and my increasingly dangerous belief that I can improve perfectly good design decisions, there’s a rather more important question to answer.
Does ROKR’s Strolling in the Sunshine actually deliver the relaxed, detailed miniature scene promised by the box?
And, more importantly, is this one going to make me want to stop building for a minute and simply enjoy the view?
That’s what we’re going to find out.
Inspiration behind the design
So, where did ROKR get the idea for this one?
Well, I think there is a fairly big clue sitting right in front of us.
Actually, several of them.
Look at the cherry blossom trees, the Japanese-style street scene, the little shops and, most obviously, that tram running along an elevated track above the buildings.
This isn’t exactly difficult to spot.
ROKR has already been down this particular road before with Sakura Densya, the Rolife book nook that recreates a springtime Tokyo street with a tram passing beneath the cherry blossoms. Robotime itself describes that earlier design as a Tokyo street scene in spring, complete with an old tram crossing an iron bridge beneath the sakura.
And Strolling in the Sunshine certainly feels as though somebody at ROKR looked at Sakura Densya and thought:
“That’s rather nice.
Now let’s make it move.”
Because while the earlier Sakura Densya is essentially a beautifully constructed static miniature scene with lighting, Strolling in the Sunshine takes that Japanese street-and-tram idea and turns it into something considerably more ambitious.
There is a tram.
There is a railway.
There are shops beneath it.
There are cherry blossoms everywhere.
And then ROKR has gone and added motors, gears, a moving background and sound.
So this isn’t simply a case of borrowing the visual language of the earlier Sakura designs. It feels more like an evolution of the idea.
And I think that is probably the most interesting thing about this particular kit.
The original Sakura Densya creates the impression of looking down a Japanese street in spring. The tram is the focal point, the cherry blossoms provide the atmosphere and the layered buildings create the depth.
Strolling in the Sunshine takes that same basic visual vocabulary and turns it into a miniature piece of theatre.
The tram actually moves.
The background moves.
The scene loops.
There is sound.
And suddenly you’re not just looking at a miniature representation of a Japanese street — you’re watching a miniature representation of a Japanese street actually doing something.
That distinction matters.
Because once you introduce movement, the design has to work on two levels. It has to look right when everything is stationary, but it also has to look right when the machinery starts doing its job.
And that is where I think the Japanese inspiration becomes particularly important.
There is something very recognisable about the combination of a compact urban street, small shops, railway infrastructure and sakura. It’s a deliberately romanticised version of everyday Japanese life rather than a recreation of one particular landmark.
And I think that’s probably the safest way to describe it.
I’ve not found anything from ROKR saying, “This is a model of this particular street in Tokyo” or pointing to one specific Japanese tram system as the source. So I’m not going to invent one just because it would make the review sound cleverer.
But the family resemblance to Sakura Densya is difficult to ignore.
In fact, someone discussing the new kit shortly after its unveiling described it as the “spiritual successor” to Sakura Densya, while also pointing out that it effectively combines the style of the Rolife Sakura range with the mechanical engineering associated with ROKR.
And that description makes an awful lot of sense.
Because ROKR and Rolife are, after all, part of the same Robotime family, so this feels less like an entirely new direction and more like two branches of the same miniature-model tree finally deciding to have a bit of a party.
The result is something that takes the pretty, atmospheric Japanese street scenes that Rolife has become rather good at and throws them into the mechanical playground that ROKR has been developing for years.
And that’s quite a combination.
The really clever part, though, is the elevated railway.
Rather than simply putting a tram on a street, ROKR has placed the track above the shopfronts, creating a much more layered scene. It gives the model that slightly compressed, busy urban feel you associate with Japanese streets, where buildings, transport infrastructure, signs, shops and people all seem to occupy the same relatively small amount of space.
Then, of course, there are the cherry blossoms.
Because apparently no Japanese miniature scene is complete without them.
But here they actually serve a useful purpose beyond simply making everything look pretty. They help frame the moving tram and soften what could otherwise be quite a hard collection of railway tracks, buildings and mechanical components.
The result is a scene that is simultaneously mechanical and rather peaceful.
Which is quite a trick.
And perhaps that’s why the title Strolling in the Sunshine works rather well.
It isn’t trying to recreate a famous landmark. Instead, it seems to be recreating a moment — a sunny spring day, a tram passing through the neighbourhood, shops below, blossom overhead and life carrying on around it.
Only ROKR’s version has the slight advantage that you can put it on your bookshelf and make the whole thing happen again whenever you fancy it.
Which is where this kit starts to get rather more interesting than your average miniature street scene.
Because now I want to know whether all that clever mechanical stuff actually works as well as it looks.
And that, as ever, is where the real review begins.
Price
I picked up Strolling in the Sunshine from Amazon UK, where it was listed at £49.95. I had a £5 promotional discount applied, bringing the actual price I paid down to a rather more agreeable £44.95.
At that price, I’d put this firmly into the mid-range for a kit of this type. It’s certainly not pocket money, but when you start looking at what is actually packed into the box, it becomes a little easier to see where the money is going.
Because this isn’t simply a collection of laser-cut wooden pieces and a few printed sheets.
There’s the miniature street scene, the elevated tram track, a working tram, the moving background, lighting, a built-in sound chip and, of course, all the mechanical gubbins required to make the whole thing actually move.
That’s quite a shopping list for £44.95.
The interesting question, therefore, isn’t simply whether £44.95 represents good value on paper. It’s whether all that additional engineering translates into something that genuinely adds to the finished model.
Are the components well made? Is the mechanism properly engineered? Does the tram run smoothly? Does the background loop without looking like it’s being dragged around by an asthmatic hamster? Does the sound add atmosphere, or will I be reaching for the off switch five minutes after switching it on?
And, ultimately, does the finished model justify the price?
As always, that’s something the build itself is going to have to answer.
The numbers
Before we get stuck into the build itself, let’s have a look at what we’re actually dealing with.
Strolling in the Sunshine comes with 339 pieces and carries ROKR’s four-star Advanced difficulty rating, with a recommended age of 14+.
Four stars is enough to tell us that this isn’t being pitched as a gentle Sunday afternoon project. And when you start looking at what’s actually going on inside the model, that rating begins to make rather more sense.
Because this isn’t simply a miniature scene.
It’s a mechanical model.
The finished model measures approximately 100mm wide, 171.5mm deep and 217mm high, making it relatively compact, although ROKR has managed to squeeze an extraordinary amount into that fairly modest footprint.
There are four full-size plywood boards and five half-sized boards, with the plywood ranging from a very slim 1.6mm up to the more familiar 2.5mm used for the main carcase boards.
And that 1.6mm plywood really is thin.
Very thin.
That’s not necessarily a criticism — thin material is precisely what allows ROKR to create some of the finer components and mechanical elements — but it does mean that a little more care is going to be required when removing and handling some of those pieces.
Especially when there are moving parts involved.
And there are plenty of those.
The tram runs along its elevated track, while an automatic looping background creates the impression that the scene continues beyond the confines of the model. Rather than simply having a static backdrop behind the tram, the background itself moves continuously, adding another layer of animation to the finished display.
Then there’s the lighting and the built-in sound chip, which means ROKR isn’t relying solely on the mechanical movement to bring this one to life.
There’s another interesting feature here as well.
The front of the model is 3D and openable, adding another dimension to what is already quite a layered design. Rather than simply looking into a fixed miniature box, the construction gives the finished scene more depth and accessibility.
And this is where that four-star Advanced rating becomes rather more relevant.
With a conventional static book nook, a slightly tight joint or a component that’s a fraction out of position can usually be dealt with fairly easily.
With a mechanical model, things become rather less forgiving. A gear has to engage properly. A moving part needs clearance. The tram needs to run smoothly. The background needs to loop without catching. And all of those things have to work while the finished model is also looking good.
So those 339 pieces aren’t necessarily the whole story.
Some will become the buildings and decorative elements. Others will disappear into the mechanism, where they won’t necessarily be seen at all but will be rather important to the way the whole thing operates.
So, on paper, we’re looking at 339 pieces, four-star Advanced difficulty, a 14+ age recommendation, plywood ranging from 1.6mm to 2.5mm, a finished size of 100 x 171.5 x 217mm, a 3D openable front, a moving tram, an automatic looping background, lighting and sound.
That’s quite a lot to pack into a model that isn’t much bigger than a paperback book.
The specifications tell us what ROKR thinks we’re getting.
The build will tell us whether they’ve managed to make all those moving parts behave themselves.
What’s in the box?
And this is where the numbers and specifications can take a back seat for a while, because there is nothing quite like getting everything out of the box and seeing what you’re actually going to be working with.
Spread across the workbench is a sizeable collection of plywood sheets containing everything from the main structural components through to the smaller pieces that will eventually become the shops, buildings, tram system and all the other details that make up the finished scene.
There are four full-size sheets and five half-sized sheets, with the plywood ranging from 1.6mm up to the 2.5mm used for the main carcase. Those thinner sheets contain some surprisingly delicate components, so a little more care is going to be needed when removing and handling them.
Then we get to the bits that make this rather more interesting than your average static book nook.
Among the wooden components are the mechanical parts needed to get the tram moving and drive the automatic looping background, along with the electrical components, wiring and lighting. There’s also the built-in sound element, adding yet another layer to what is already quite an ambitious little model.
The decorative and scenic pieces are where things start to become recognisable. The shopfronts, architectural details, railway components and smaller accessories don’t look particularly exciting while they’re still attached to their boards, but they give you a pretty good idea of where this is all heading.
And then there are the components that will eventually disappear inside the mechanism and never be seen again.
Which always makes me slightly nervous.
Because once something disappears inside a mechanical model, finding out you’ve fitted it upside down tends to involve considerably more swearing than it did when it was sitting conveniently on the workbench.
What becomes clear when everything is laid out is that this is a much more varied collection of parts than the 339-piece count might initially suggest. This isn’t simply a case of assembling a miniature street and adding a few lights. There is a working mechanical system hiding amongst all those decorative pieces.
One slight concern at this point is the limited amount of lighting supplied in the kit. One LED strip of four LED’s, and a separate downlighter of a single LED head. Now that doesn’t sound like it’s going to be enough o properly illuminate this scene, but we will see.
That’s the contents dealt with.
Now it’s time to start working out how all those bits are supposed to go together — and whether ROKR has made the process as clever as the finished model promises to be.
The instruction manual
Before reaching for the glue, I did what I always do with a new kit — sat down with the instructions and had a proper look through them first.
With a mechanical kit like this, that’s not just a bit of pre-build ritual. There is a lot going on inside Strolling in the Sunshine, and understanding what ROKR expects you to do before starting to assemble things is going to save a fair amount of head scratching later.
The manual is a substantial 54-page A4 booklet. It is primarily made up of clear black and white line drawings, with colour used where it matters to help identify individual components and make the construction stages easier to follow.
And it is very well laid out.
There is plenty of information on each page without it becoming cluttered, and the illustrations do a good job of showing exactly what is being added at each stage. For a kit containing mechanical, electrical and decorative elements, that clarity is important.
One of the most useful sections comes right at the beginning, where ROKR provides a complete breakdown of the electrical system and shows how all the various components fit together.
And, importantly, you’re able to connect and test the electronics before they disappear inside the finished model.
That’s something I always like to see.
There’s little point discovering halfway through a complicated build that a light, motor or connection isn’t working, when you could have tested everything while it was still sitting conveniently on the workbench.
There is one small warning here, though.
When you’ve finished testing and start breaking the system down again, take care when removing the JST connectors. They are small and the temptation is always to pull on whatever is easiest to grab. Don’t. These are connections rather than handles, and a little care at this stage could save a lot of unnecessary frustration later.
The manual also includes a double-sided, full-colour parts list, making it considerably easier to identify the components supplied with the kit. With 339 pieces involved, having a proper visual reference to work from is considerably more useful than simply being presented with a list of numbers and expected to work it all out.
There’s also a selection of QR codes on various pages that will show you some of the more difficult sections of the build. It’s another useful touch for anyone who wants to go beyond the printed instructions.
Then there’s something I particularly like — the illustrated icon sheet.
Rather than having to repeatedly decipher written instructions to work out what each component needs, ROKR uses a series of clear symbols to indicate things such as where glue is required, where sticky dots should be used, whether a piece needs sanding and various other instructions relevant to the construction.
It sounds like a small thing, but it’s actually very practical.
Once you’re well into a build, you don’t necessarily want to stop and read a paragraph of instructions every time you pick up another piece. A clearly understood icon can tell you what you need to know at a glance.
And that’s really the impression I get from the manual.
It isn’t trying to be clever for the sake of it. It is designed to give you the information you need, when you need it, and particularly with a mechanical model, that matters.
The electrical testing section, the colour parts identification, the construction illustrations and the icon system all give the impression that ROKR has thought about the build from the builder’s side of the workbench.
And that is exactly where I want the instructions to be coming from.
So, before I’ve even reached for the glue, I’m feeling reasonably confident about what lies ahead.
Of course, a beautifully laid-out instruction manual is one thing.
Whether those instructions actually translate into a trouble-free build is something we’re going to find out rather more conclusively once the first piece comes off the board.
The components
Right, enough looking at the box contents. It’s time to get down to what really matters — what are the components actually like?
Starting with the plywood boards, and the first impression is a very good one. The laser cutting is clean and precise, with the individual pieces sharply defined and, importantly, without the sort of excessive scorching that can sometimes leave you wondering whether you’re building a miniature or opening a packet of charcoal briquettes.
The boards themselves are a mixture of thicknesses, with the main structural components using the familiar 2.5mm plywood while some of the smaller and more detailed pieces are cut from the considerably thinner 1.6mm material.
And you notice that difference immediately.
The thinner plywood is being used for components where ROKR needs to keep things light and relatively delicate, and although it feels noticeably more fragile than the main boards, the cutting quality is excellent. The pieces are well defined and the smaller details have been cut cleanly without obvious tearing or crushing around the edges.
There is also a nice mixture of plain structural plywood and components that have already been printed or coloured, meaning we’re not starting with a completely blank canvas and having to decorate every square inch ourselves.
The printed finish is perhaps the one area where I’m less enthusiastic. It’s perfectly acceptable, with the colours clean and the detail reasonably sharp, but I wouldn’t describe it as anything particularly special.
What it lacks is a real sense of depth. Some of the building surfaces in particular look rather flat when viewed on their own, and I was hoping for a little more of a three-dimensional effect from the printed detail. A good print can create an astonishing amount of apparent depth on a flat surface, and I’m not quite getting that here.
Thankfully, ROKR has another trick up its sleeve.
The buildings aren’t relying entirely on the printing to create that depth. The various multi-layered additions build out the façades, adding physical projections and recessed areas that give the scene considerably more dimension than the printed surfaces manage on their own.
So while the printing itself isn’t going to have me reaching for the magnifying glass in admiration, the way those printed sections are combined with the additional layered components works considerably better.
It is, in effect, the construction rather than the printing that provides much of the three-dimensional character.
The sakura pieces are a good example. The printed blossom sections are already beautifully coloured, with the various shades of pink giving them plenty of depth without requiring the builder to reach for a paintbrush before we’ve even started. However, I’ll be placing some more lifelike blossom onto those printed card pieces to solidify them and make them pop.
There’s also a particularly nice decorative front frame, already finished in pink and carrying the small blossom details. It’s one of those pieces that gives you a much better idea of the finished model than a sheet of bare plywood ever could.
Then things take a turn towards the mechanical.
Among the components are a collection of moulded plastic parts in green, including gears and other pieces that will eventually form part of the mechanism. These are very different from the usual laser-cut wooden gears you find in many mechanical kits, and the moulding looks clean and well defined.
That makes sense when you consider what this model is being asked to do.
These aren’t decorative components. They’re going to be doing an actual job, and the precision of those parts is going to matter considerably once the tram, moving background and other mechanical elements are all working together.
Then there are the electrical and mechanical components, individually bagged and clearly identified. ROKR has gone to considerable lengths to keep these separate rather than simply throwing everything into one enormous bag and leaving the builder to play miniature archaeology.
And there is one particularly reassuring little detail in amongst them.
One of the bags contains a notice explaining that, during assembly of certain stages, part A26 is to be removed and replaced with a supplied replacement component.
I rather like seeing things like that.
It suggests that ROKR has identified something during production or testing that needed changing and has actually supplied the corrected component rather than leaving the builder to discover the problem for themselves halfway through the build.
That’s the sort of quality-control detail that doesn’t necessarily make it onto the box, but is worth noticing when you’re the person actually building the thing.
The printed components are also looking very good on first inspection. The colours are strong, the detail is crisp and the Japanese-inspired styling comes through particularly well in the blossom and decorative elements.
And unlike some kits where the printed parts can look a little flat or washed out, these have enough colour and detail to do much of the decorative work without immediately crying out for additional paint.
Which brings me to my usual problem.
The customisation brush is sitting there looking increasingly unemployed.
There are certainly areas where I could see myself adding a little extra detail, particularly around exposed plywood edges and some of the structural components. But with so many of the decorative pieces already finished, this isn’t a kit where I’m going to be reaching for the paint box simply because everything looks unfinished straight out of the packet.
That’s quite a nice position to be in.
The components also appear to have been packaged with a reasonable degree of care. The smaller parts are separated into individual bags and identified, while the mechanical and electrical elements are kept together in a way that should make finding the right component considerably less painful once construction gets underway.
At this stage, the overall impression is very positive.
Clean cutting, neatly finished printed components, some excellent moulded mechanical parts and, importantly, very little that looks as though it has been treated as an afterthought.
Of course, it’s easy for everything to look impressive while it’s still sitting safely on the workbench.
The real test comes when we start taking those beautifully cut pieces out of their sheets and asking them to actually fit together.
That’s when we’ll find out whether ROKR’s precision on the cutting machine has survived the journey from factory to workbench.
Electronics and lighting
This is where the electronics start to make a rather bigger impression, because ROKR has packed considerably more into this one than simply a few LEDs and a battery box.
The manual’s initial function-test section is particularly useful. Rather than leaving you to discover how everything connects as you progress through the build, ROKR gives you a complete wiring diagram showing the main control board, the touch switch, lighting panel, speaker, motors and the various connections between them.
And I would strongly recommend doing exactly what ROKR suggests here — test the entire system before you start building it into the model.
The diagram makes the process reasonably straightforward. The main control board sits at the centre of everything, with the lighting, touch switch, speaker and two motors connecting to their respective sockets. There are also two USB-C connections, marked A and B, allowing the system to be powered externally.
This is considerably more than a lighting circuit.
There are two motors involved, with one responsible for the moving elements of the model and the other forming part of the separate mechanical movement. Then there’s the lighting panel, the touch control and the speaker, all feeding into the same control system.
And that speaker is worth mentioning because it isn’t simply there to make a token noise when you switch the model on. The built-in sound is part of the overall experience ROKR is trying to create, alongside the movement, lighting and continuously looping background.
The touch switch is another nice feature. Rather than having to reach around the back of the model looking for a conventional switch every time you want to bring it to life, the system uses touch control as part of the operation.
The manual is particularly helpful here because it also shows the correct orientation of the connections. That might sound like a small detail, but when you’re dealing with several very similar connectors, knowing exactly which way they should be fitted is rather better than relying on trial and error.
And there is one warning I would repeat from the manual — pay attention when disconnecting the JST plugs during the initial test.
Once you’ve established that everything works, ROKR specifically tells you not to dismantle the lighting and electronics again. That makes sense, because the whole point of this initial test is to make sure everything is functioning before construction gets too far advanced.
So resist the temptation to unplug everything just because you’ve finished testing it.
Leave it alone.
There is also a very useful warning concerning the motor connections, with the manual illustrating the correct orientation of the terminals. Again, it’s the sort of information that is much easier to deal with now, while everything is sitting on the workbench, than later when you’ve got half a model surrounding the wiring.
What I particularly like about this approach is that ROKR isn’t treating the electronics as an afterthought.
The system has clearly been designed as an integral part of the model, with the movement, lighting, sound and touch control all working together. And because there are moving mechanical elements involved, testing the system before installation isn’t simply convenient — it’s good building practice.
There’s also something rather reassuring about seeing the whole arrangement laid out on the page before you start.
For once, the wires aren’t something to be feared.
They’re actually telling you what they’re supposed to do.
So the electronics get a good start from me. The components are clearly identified, the wiring diagram is comprehensive, the function test is provided before construction begins, and ROKR has made it possible to establish that the important bits are working before they disappear inside the model.
Just remember that once you’ve tested it, don’t start pulling the JST connections apart again.
That’s one instruction I intend to follow.
For once.
The Build
Right, enough looking at the bits. It’s time to start sticking them together.
And almost immediately, this kit gives me something to think about.
The 1.6mm plywood is scarily thin. I’m used to being able to apply a reasonable amount of pressure when removing pieces from a board, but I’m not doing that here. I’ve already started cutting some of the components out rather than relying on the usual gentle press-and-pop approach, because I’m as certain as I can be that pressing some of these thinner pieces is eventually going to end in disaster.
And unfortunately, the first few pieces I’ve removed haven’t exactly changed my mind.
Pretty much every piece I’ve taken from the boards so far has had small splinters left around the attachment points, so a little sanding has been necessary before they can be used. It’s not a major problem, but with material this thin, I’d much rather spend a few seconds with the sanding block than risk turning a perfectly good component into several much smaller components.
There is also something slightly odd about the way some of the joints have been designed.
We’re dealing with square tenons in places, but they are being inserted into what appear to be elongated round mortises.
Oddly enough, they do seem to fit perfectly well, so I’m not complaining about the engineering just yet. But it is certainly something that caught my eye when I first encountered it.
There is one exception, though, and it arrives very early in the build.
The D3 component shown on page 6 needed a little attention before it would fit properly. The problem isn’t really with D3 itself; the mortise it needs to enter is partially obstructed from underneath by A9, which has already been fitted to the underside of A10.
A little careful sanding of D3 solved the problem, a. touch of glue, and it now fits as it should. But it is a worry this early on in the build.
It’s worth mentioning because this is exactly the sort of thing that can catch out a builder who assumes that every joint should simply push together without resistance. In this case, forcing it would have been the wrong approach. A few careful strokes with the sanding block were considerably safer. And don’t be too heavy handed when fitting – remember you are dealing with 1.6mm plywood.
And that’s probably going to be the theme of the opening stages of this build.
Don’t force anything.
The plywood is thin, some of the pieces are delicate, and we’re already dealing with joints where a little preparation is preferable to applying more pressure.
At the same time, there’s a lot more going on here than simply assembling a collection of walls and decorative pieces. The mechanical elements are going to demand accuracy, and with the tram, moving background and other moving parts still to come, I’m going to be paying rather more attention to fit and alignment than I might with a conventional static book nook.
So the build has started, and already I’m adjusting my normal technique.
Normally I’d be quite happy to press a component out of a well-cut sheet.
Here, I’m reaching for the knife instead.
That probably tells you everything you need to know about just how thin that 1.6mm plywood really is.
Edge colouring
Pages 5-8 has us building the Ramen Shop, and this is worth mentioning now because it introduces something that anyone who likes to colour their MDF edges is going to want to think about before going much further.
Colouring the exposed edges of MDF is generally a pretty straightforward job. The surface is relatively consistent and, depending on the paint you’re using, you can usually get a decent opaque finish without too much effort.
Plywood is a different animal altogether.
Because of the way the layers are manufactured and the grain running through them, getting an opaque finish over the raw edge is considerably more difficult. I’ve already found that it takes several coats before the colour starts to properly cover the edge and hide what’s underneath.
So, if you’re someone who colours your edges, think carefully before you start.
Because once you begin, you’re pretty much committed for the rest of the build.
And having now completed the Ramen Shop, I can add another observation to the list: virtually every component I’ve removed so far has needed sanding to get rid of small splinters. And I don’t just mean the obvious edges or the points where the pieces were attached to the board. I’ve even found splinters on the rear face of some components. I’m afraid its one of the known issues about plywood and how it splits.
That means every piece is going to need checking before it gets anywhere near the glue.
We’re only eight pages into a 54-page manual and already I’m beginning to suspect that this isn’t going to be a particularly quick build.
In fact, I have a sneaking suspicion this could be a very long relationship between me, my sanding block and this rather thin plywood.
Page 9
Another word of warning as we move on to page 9.
The large G1 framing section needs to be cut out rather than simply pushed from the board. And this is one of those occasions where I would strongly recommend learning from my mistake rather than making your own.
It looks big enough to release by hand. It looks as though it should be quicker. And you might reasonably think, “I’ll just press this one out and save myself the bother of cutting all the way around it.”
Don’t.
The rear surface of G1, and some of the other larger components, can start to delaminate if you try to force them out in this way. I’ve already discovered that the hard way, and I’ve had to resort to small amounts of glue and carefully positioned clamps to repair the damage.
It’s fixable, but it’s entirely avoidable.
So when you get to G1, get the knife out and cut it free properly. Don’t be tempted by the apparent shortcut.
With plywood this thin, what looks like a time-saving exercise can very quickly turn into a repair job — and that’s time you really didn’t need to spend.
A26 – and a lesson learned the hard way
Now here’s something worth knowing before you get too far into the build.
Inside the box, ROKR has included replacement plastic washers for the components marked A26. And having now had the dubious pleasure of finding out why, I can tell you that you really do want to use them.
It looks very much as though ROKR discovered somewhere along the production or testing process that the original wooden A26 components were causing problems around the gearing. The replacement pieces are plastic washers, presumably providing a smoother and more consistent surface where those parts interact with the mechanism.
All very sensible.
Except there is one small problem.
The manual hasn’t been updated to tell you about them.
So, naturally, I did what any experienced builder who is supposedly paying attention to what he’s doing would do.
I completely forgot they were there.
I followed the instructions, found the A26 components shown in the manual and, without a second thought, fitted the wooden versions.
Everything carried on quite happily.
Until, of course, it didn’t.
Eventually I realised what had happened and discovered that those replacement plastic washers weren’t simply a spare set of components sitting in the box for some future emergency. They were there because ROKR had already decided that the wooden versions weren’t the best solution.
Cue the strip-down.
And when I say strip-down, I mean the sort of strip-down accompanied by considerable muttering, followed by the increasingly familiar sound of pens, brushes and assorted workshop implements being deposited rather more firmly on the workbench than was strictly necessary.
Thankfully, I caught it before I’d progressed too far into the build.
The wooden A26 pieces came back out, the plastic replacements went in, and I could finally carry on without the nagging suspicion that I’d just built a rather elaborate mechanical problem for myself.
So here’s the warning.
When you reach the A26 components, ignore what I did and don’t automatically follow the picture in the manual. Check the box contents first and look for the replacement plastic washers.
ROKR has clearly made a running change to the design for a reason.
It would have been considerably nicer if that change had made its way into the printed instructions as well.
But at least the replacement parts are there.
And, having already taken mine apart once, I can confirm that finding them before you start is considerably less frustrating than finding out about them afterwards.
A small problem with the LED strip
On page 24, we’re asked to install the self-adhesive LED strip containing four LED chips. The instructions tell you to align it along the red border marked on part E1, and the illustration helpfully shows exactly where that red strip is supposed to be.
There’s just one small problem.
There is no red strip.
Unless I’ve suddenly developed colour blindness, the red marking shown in the manual simply doesn’t exist on the actual component.
So, rather than spending the next ten minutes turning E1 around under every conceivable light source in the hope that the elusive red line will magically appear, you’ll have to use the illustration as a rough guide to where the LED strip should be positioned.
It’s not a particularly difficult job, but it is another example of the instructions showing something that doesn’t quite match what’s in front of you on the workbench.
Take your time, use the diagram to judge the approximate position, and make sure the strip is properly aligned before pressing it firmly into place. Once that adhesive has made contact, repositioning it may not be quite so straightforward.
And ROKR, if you’re reading this, a red line in the manual is all very well, but it would be rather more useful if the builder could actually see one on the part.
Blossom card K
The kit supplies five card sections printed with blossom trees. And, to be fair, they’re perfectly acceptable as blossom trees go. The printing does the job, but it does leave the branches looking rather flat, which is a bit of a shame when the cherry blossom is such an important part of the overall scene.
Naturally, I decided that acceptable wasn’t quite good enough.
Out came the PVA glue, which I spread over the blossom areas before applying a pink and white mix of blossom material. The difference is well worth the little bit of extra effort. Instead of relying entirely on the printed image, the added material gives the trees genuine texture and depth, creating a much more convincing three-dimensional effect.
It’s a simple customisation, but one that makes a noticeable difference. The blossom looks fuller, more natural and considerably less like something printed on a piece of card.
Sometimes, you don’t need to reinvent the wheel. You just need to give it a little extra blossom.
Building layering
One aspect of Strolling in the Sunshine that works particularly well is the layering of the background buildings. Rather than presenting everything on a single flat plane, the different layers create a genuine sense of depth, giving the street scene a more convincing three-dimensional appearance. The buildings sit behind one another naturally, drawing your eye further into the scene and making the finished model feel considerably more substantial. It’s a simple but effective design choice that adds visual interest and helps bring the miniature street to life.
Backdrop install
Pages 30–31 are where things get a little trickier, because we’re now dealing with the printed rotating background and the foam toothed strips that need to be attached to its top and bottom edges.
These strips are self-adhesive and form part of the mechanism that engages with the cogs we’ve already installed. I was particularly interested to see how this arrangement would work, as I was hoping the foam sections might produce a quieter running background than some of the other mechanical kits I’ve built. Wooden gears can sometimes make their presence felt rather more audibly than you’d ideally like, so anything that reduces that mechanical chatter is worth investigating.
Before you start sticking anything, though, there are two QR codes on pages 30 and 31. I strongly recommend scanning them and watching the videos before proceeding. This is one of those stages where seeing the process demonstrated is considerably more useful than simply studying a series of illustrations.
The positioning of the foam toothed strips is important, and the orientation of the printed background needs to be correct. My advice is to have the reverse of the background facing you, with the short self-adhesive strip positioned on your right-hand side. Get that orientation right before removing the backing from the adhesive, and you’ll avoid the possibility of having to peel everything off and start again.
There is another little preparation job worth doing before you reach this stage. Both pieces P23 and P28 arrive rolled up, which makes them rather reluctant to behave like flat sheets. I placed mine between the pages of a heavy book overnight, which helped flatten them considerably and made fitting the background much easier.
Once you’ve installed the background, take a moment to check that the two ends meet properly and that the printed design lines up. You want a continuous image as the background rotates, rather than a rather obvious interruption every time the join passes through view.
ROKR also supplies pieces marked E16 to help hold the rotating background in position. However, having flattened my pieces beforehand, I found I didn’t need to use them and managed to fit the background without them.
Sometimes it pays to follow the instructions to the letter. Other times, a little preparation beforehand can make the job easier and leave you wondering whether all the supplied pieces are actually necessary. Just make sure the background is correctly aligned and running as it should before you move on. With the mechanism already assembled, this is not the stage at which you want to discover that something isn’t sitting quite where it should.
The Build – patience is a virtue
If there’s one thing I’d say about building Strolling in the Sunshine, it’s this: don’t rush it.
This is not a kit you can throw together in an afternoon simply because you’ve built a few book nooks and reckon you know the drill. There are far too many mechanical elements involved, and getting things right at the beginning is essential if you want everything to work properly when the model is finished.
With a conventional static scene, you can sometimes get away with a joint that’s a little less than perfect or a component that needs a bit of persuasion. With this one, the gears, motors, moving background and railway mechanism all have to work together. Get something wrong early on, and you could find yourself dismantling half the model to put it right.
Take your time, check each stage carefully and make sure everything moves as it should before covering it up with the next layer of construction. It might feel as though progress is slow, but believe me, that’s considerably better than having to undo an hour’s work because you were in too much of a hurry to spend another five minutes checking something.
And talking of taking your time, I reached one particular point in the build that tested my patience rather more than I would have liked.
Fitting the train into the model.
You’d think this would be relatively straightforward. After all, the train is rather an important part of a kit called Strolling in the Sunshine, and you’d imagine that ROKR would have made the process reasonably clear.
Well, you’d imagine wrongly.
The instructions are vague, and the accompanying QR code takes you to a video that manages to be even less helpful than the printed manual. I watched it, studied the illustrations, looked at the model and then looked at the train again.
Nothing.
So I started jiggling things about. Then I tweaked them. Then I jiggled them again, with the sort of growing irritation that anyone who has built a mechanical kit will recognise.
Eventually, I decided that the model and I needed a little time apart.
I went away for a cup of tea.
It’s amazing what a brew and a few minutes away from the workbench can do for the temper. I came back with a fresh head, looked at the mechanism again and started paying closer attention to where everything was supposed to sit, rather than simply trying to persuade the train into position.
And there it was.
The important component is the plastic cog marked Z2. This is fitted to a motor and is responsible for driving the train along the railway track. If that cog isn’t correctly aligned with the railway bed, you’ll struggle to get the train fitted and running as it should.
Once I concentrated on the relationship between the cog and the track, the problem became much clearer. The answer wasn’t to apply more force or keep trying the same thing in the hope that it would eventually work. It was to understand exactly where the components needed to sit.
So, when you reach this stage, pay particular attention to Z2 and make sure it lines up correctly with the railway bed before trying to fit the train.
It’s a small detail, but it makes a considerable difference.
And it rather reinforces the point I made at the beginning of this section. This is a mechanical build, and patience is going to be one of your most useful tools. The instructions won’t necessarily answer every question, and there will be moments when you need to stop, look again and work things out for yourself.
Don’t be afraid to walk away for a few minutes if frustration starts to creep in. The model will still be there when you return, and there’s every chance you’ll spot something you missed when you were busy muttering at it.
Take your time, get the mechanics right from the outset, and you’ll give yourself a much better chance of enjoying the finished model rather than spending your evenings taking it apart again.
And if all else fails, put the kettle on.
A little public service announcement
ROKR doesn’t appear to publish an official build time for this kit, and having worked my way through it, I can understand why they might prefer to keep quiet! 😂
If you’re the sensible sort who follows the instructions, assembles the pieces and moves on without obsessively sanding and edge-colouring everything in sight, you’ll finish considerably sooner than I will.
Unfortunately, I have a rather unfortunate habit of believing that even the tiniest component deserves the same attention as the biggest. Those little edges aren’t going to colour themselves, are they?
But there’s a more practical reason to take your time with this one. Some of the tenons are extremely tight-fitting, and I’ve been sanding them before assembly rather than risking forcing them into place.
I’ve also managed to break two pieces during this build. Both were repairable, thankfully, but I rarely break anything, so consider that a warning to handle those delicate components with care.
My advice is simple: if a joint doesn’t want to fit, don’t force it. A little sanding now is considerably less frustrating than trying to repair a broken piece later.
Take your time, check the fit and remember that this is supposed to be an enjoyable hobby, not a speed-building competition.
And if, like me, you insist on colouring every microscopic edge, don’t be surprised if your idea of a quick build turns into a considerably longer stroll in the sunshine! 😂
My thoughts
So, where does that leave us with ROKR’s Strolling in the Sunshine?
I’ve enjoyed the challenge of putting this one together, and there’s no denying that the finished model has plenty going for it. The design is well thought out, and overall, the kit builds reasonably well. Unfortunately, though, there’s one significant drawback that has affected my overall impression: the plywood.
As I’ve mentioned throughout this review, the material has presented problems with splintering, rough edges and breakages. There’s been a considerable amount of sanding required to get components into an acceptable condition, and even then, you need to take care when removing and handling the pieces. This isn’t simply a case of a little tidying up here and there; the material itself has made the building process more demanding than it needed to be.
That’s a shame, because the underlying design deserves better. I’d like to see ROKR consider using standard MDF sheets for this kit, which could help avoid many of the problems I’ve encountered and make the whole experience more enjoyable.
One aspect I have been disappointed with is the noise generated by the rotating backdrop. I’m not entirely sure why it is as noisy as it is, particularly given that the cogs mesh with a foam rubber track, which I would have expected to help minimise sound. My suspicion is that it is a combination of the wooden structure onto which the backdrop fits and the material itself, which appears to be a PVC or plastic printed film. Whatever the cause, the noise is noticeable during operation and detracts from what is otherwise an attractive feature of the build. It would be good to see the manufacturer investigate whether this could be improved in future versions.
Would I buy Strolling in the Sunshine again? No. Not because it’s a badly designed kit, or because it doesn’t build reasonably well, but because the material issues have to count against it when considering value for money. When you’re paying for a kit, you expect the components to be fit for purpose without requiring quite so much remedial work.
Ultimately, I have to mark this one down on value for money. The design is there, and the potential is certainly there, but the plywood lets it down. With better-quality material, this could have been a much stronger offering from ROKR.
Motor activity on film
Here’s the bit some like to skip straight to before then going back for a read of the review.
Picture gallery
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