Cornish Branches No.2: September 2005

This one originated partly from wanting to see more of Cornwall, partly from the need to do more branch lines and partly from a wish to go on the sleeper again, the future of which was in doubt at this time. As part of the re-franchising process, the DFT had requested that the applicant costed the sleeper separately, in my opinion, a cynical gesture to float the idea of abolition and to expose its cost to make it easier to do so. So I thought I'd better use it before it went. It looks as if plenty of others thought the same. A campaign was launched to save it and this led to increased use, just as with the Settle-Carlisle story. To my mind, over any long distance journey a sleeper makes perfect sense. You don't waste waking hours travelling, fall asleep at the wheel, or have to wait for internal flight check in procedures. You can accomplish a great distance without effort, get a drink on the move, and it's better for the environment. Indeed, travelling by sleeper is an entirely different experience to a normal train journey. There is a curious drowsy atmosphere on board and though it can be difficult to sleep the first time you travel this way, you are subsequently lulled to sleep by the motion of the train. In the event the sleeper was saved, partly because so many other people thought the same as me and used it before it was lost. The concessions were that the last Motorail service that used to run with the Sleeper in Summer was finally killed off - another retrograde step - and the "slipped coach" at Plymouth was abolished. Interestingly no-one mentioned scrapping the Scottish sleepers - surely nothing to do with Scotland being Labour's strongest constituency in the UK while South West England is that of the Liberal Democrats? Hmmm. To my mind the question should never have arisen. While even Greece is building new sleeping cars with more facilities, ours are 30 years old and threatened with the axe. The DFT say that there is no case for sleepers in a country as small as Britain, but with 5 hours to Penzance and 8 hours to Inverness from London, this is a nonsensical argument. As recently as the 1980s, we had a much bigger network - with sleepers from London to the South West, up both east and west coasts to Scottish and English cities, South and North Wales, AND a cross country NE to SW route - the biggest loss of all, as there is no satisfactory way of doing Inverness to Penzance now. Happy days.

So after work on the Thursday, instead of going home, I take a wander down Oxford Street to get something to read for the trip, then head to Paddington. I meet a friend who gets the train to Ealing there for the last hour at the station pub, then wait patiently for the sleeper to open for business, it having been there for some time. It's a curious feeling waiting for a train this late that isn't going home, though once somewhat more common - see the Wales bash!

I arrive at Penzance at around 8.30, having been woken at 7.30 with coffee. It's a strange feeling sitting on the berth waiting for your destination - like a private train almost. With a fantastic view on this occasion as you can see St Michael's Mount looming in the bay as you approach. Last time I was here I saw it shrouded in mist, but this time its beautifully clear and I'm going to visit too. After a really good breakfast in the cafe at the station, which I heartily recommend, I head off along the coastal path to Marazion, which passes the sidings where my recently vacated bed is now stored until this evening. This once had a station and the building is still in situ. At low tide there is a causeway you can use to get to the Mount but as the tide is in I have to get the ferry - of which there are a FLEET, this being such a big tourist attraction. I always enjoy boat trips, especially if they're a bit choppy and bracing, so I'm quite disappointed when the skipper pulls a cover over me and the dozen German visitors, the blue skies having suddenly been replaced by sheets of rain.


St Michael's Mount is a fascinating place. It's one of those strange corners of the country that seems to have a bit of everything - countryside, cliffs, beach, harbour - from afar it seems astonishing that so much is packed in there. There is a winding path up to the house perched on the top, which has been a monastery and a stately home in its history - and sadly this is the dullest part of the experience for me. I've come to realise that trips to houses, however impressive, are not for me. Castles, yes, even gardens. But not houses. From the gardens I can now see the causeway appearing as the tide falls, though sadly not in time for me to cross on foot.


Anyway this is about trains. I get the boat back to the mainland, and after a pasty for lunch, get the bus back to Penzance and jump on a train (err 158?) to St Erth, where the branch to St Ives terminates. It's a half hour wait for the train, a two coach Sprinter. But the trip is worth the wait. As we head through Carbis Bay, the beautiful coastal landscape starts to unfold around us. I haven't been to the Caribbean, but the view of St Ives is like that of pictures I've seen of the West Indies. There are almost white sands, azure blue seas and even palm trees. Even the sky is a deep blue today. The town is not overwhelming but very pleasant. It's an arty sort of place with winding streets leading up to an unusual sea front which hugs a peninsula. On one side is the harbour and on the other is the beach, surfers atop the white-tipped waves. Unfortunately I do encounter a few scummy elements, out of place here, and just hope THEY aren't getting the train for a change. When I do get it, it's incredibly crowded, and I can't help but think this is a woefully under-resourced service.

Back at Penzance I go to the neighbouring bus station to catch the bus to Land's End. Luckily the last return bus is at 8pm, so there is plenty of time to see this most famous of landmarks. It's an amazing place. The landscape is incredibly varied - rocky cliffs like jagged teeth, great lush green rolling sweeps of land down to the edge, the sea seemingly a different colour in every direction. And slap bang in the middle of it all, a load of stupid tacky shops selling all the usual tat that have nothing to do with the attraction except its name written across it. Luckily these are all closing, so I can enjoy the landscape unhindered. This is a lonely place, there is such a feeling of nothing between you and North America such a long way west. It's not quite the feeling I expected, certainly surrounded by so many people taking photographs of the sign pointing to London, New York, John O'Groats etc. Amusingly, the sign is inside an enclosure, and if you want to stand next to the sign inside it, you have to pay. Even though you can stand just outside it and be photographed for nothing. I should think they have fleeced a few rich tourists with this, whoever they are. I head back to possibly the most westerly bus stop on the mainland. The bus is about 15 minutes late but as my train doesn't go until 10 I'm not too bothered.

At the Penzance Wetherspoons I have the inevitable beer and burger, before heading back to the waiting overnight train. For this leg I have booked an ordinary seat on the basis that a) I will be tired and b) most people on there will want to sleep. Wrong!!! Given that it's only ten, this is just a late local train for many people. It fills up, and up, and up. There is a family of simpletons behind me eating the smelliest burger I've ever known, a symphony of beer cans opening every couple of minutes, and at every stop the conductor wakes me to check my ticket. Before we have reached Devon I crack and ask for a cabin. To my joy there is one spare and I willingly pay the upgrade. I'm asleep in minutes, and can only really remember waking up as we arrive at Paddington. Originally I'd intended to get off and get one of the first trains back home, it being 5am, before getting in my own bed. However I'm happy to sleep for the extra two hours you get in the sleeping car - sleeping in the station back home in London being a strange notion - and then by the time I get home I'm actually ready for the day, which is an unexpected bonus. A good trip, and I hope, not my last on the Cornwall sleeper.

New lines this trip:
St Erth-St Ives