This day started out as a bashing trip to Lincolnshire but somehow ended up being a Nottinghamshire bash. Not sure why, possibly as my Lincolnshire trip was a complicated one to sort and I couldn't be bothered to spend the time on this occasion. Anyway, very early on the first Saturday of the year at its coldest darkest time I found myself heading for St Pancras. It took ages to reach the Midland Mainline platforms, I hope when it re-opens it won't be such a slog from the street. By now the trainshed roof was visible again and looking very impressive. It's going to be a fantastic space but I hope it doesn't become a glorified shopping centre like so much regeneration in the UK, they've already trumpeted such bollocks as the big champagne bar that's coming.
I watched the sun rise over the East Midlands from my seat on a Meridian train (too knackered to see if it was a four or nine car job), but was far too tired to appreciate it, my eyes were impossible to keep open. There was no mention of the buffet car either, though the conductor seemed to be able to get himself a coffee. I woke up in time to see a new bit of trackside scenery between Loughborough and Nottingham. Nottingham is a large impressive red brick station. I gather it used to be Nottingham Victoria to distinguish it from Nottingham Central on the GCR. I am grateful for a coffee on this cold morning while I wait for the train to Sheffield.
When it comes it's a three coach 170, there are a fair few of these running in the Midlands, they're pretty good though again three coaches just doesn't seem enough nowadays. By the time we reach Sheffield the train is heaving and it's nowhere near its destination - it's continuing to Liverpool! There are some enthusiasts on board - real ones with a list of locomotive movements, and they seem fairly typical of the ones I've encountered - ordinary thirty something blokes who have a bit of a laugh together bashing, spotting, filming or watching trains. There are the stereotypes but sadly these continue to dominate most people's perceptions. Amid the seething crowd there is a small dispute when an old man is turfed out of his seat by a group who have reserved it, which seems a bit petty but the conductor finds him another seat. I can't appreciate the scenery as it is so crowded but to be honest much of the area around Nottingham and Derby appeals to me as much as my journey to work - works mess, crumbling buildings and graffiti everywhere.
At Sheffield I have a stroke of luck. I've got three minutes to catch the connection to Lincoln and I did not expect to get it, I thought that the train from Nottingham would inevitably pick up a delay and Sheffield is a sprawling sort of station that I'm not that familiar with. It's one of those with loads of bay platforms all over the place and so doesn't seem to follow the normal numbering. However not only is our train on time and the Lincoln train late but we pull up almost next to to the correct platform. This will give me a much better chance of completing the day's itinerary. When it does arrive it's a two coach Pacer. It's reasonably well patronised this morning but I do get a decent seat all the way. It's a reasonably scenic route, helped by the bright blue sky that has prevailed today. We bounce across South Yorkshire and into Lincolnshire. We pass a coal power station of the type that is booming again now thanks to natural gas running low, another of the fantastic 80s economic policies coming back to bite us - appropriate given that we are in countryside devastated by the pit closures. At Retford we head under the main East Coast Line. It's a strange feeling. Not only do I get a mental picture of filling in the map - now I've done the "over and under" here but also the sight of the overhead wires are a link to home, leading ultimately to London as they do. We pass through Gainsborough Lea Road which I erroneously imagine is a graceful sort of town then towards Lincoln. Lincoln is one of those rare places I've already visited by car but not by train and again I enjoy the vista of the cathedral and castle overlooking the city.
There appear to be riot police in the cafe there. They assure me they're only expecting Lincoln City's rivals that day while I have lunch but they are kitted out in a hell of a lot of tough looking gear - I wonder who the visitors are that day?! Next I'm on the two car class 170 to Nottingham via Newark Castle. It's an interesting route. There are a LOT of stops, close together, not many passengers except at Newark itself, and yet apart from Newark it's all very rural - not sure how all those stations still exist - though I'm pleased that they do! At Newark there is what I gather is the last proper diamond crossing in the UK. It reminds me of the Hornby ones I used to see in the track plans book, but this is quite something in reality. We wait for a northbound GNER train to pass in front of us, slowing down for the crossing, then we pass across after it's gone. Seeing it retreat into the distance makes me feel faintly wobbly as I think about the speed it must be doing by now. I'm amazed that in today's health and safety hysteria such a crossing is still permitted. I guess the investment for a flyover would be considered too much for Network Rail.
At Nottingham I head out on to the new tram, connected directly to the platforms by a stairway - another guarantee of getting fare dodgers inside! I take this to Hucknall, which I would compare to a million grim and grimy out of town places in London. The tram is pretty impressive - with a conductor, always a good idea - and I'm pleased that they are getting more. I think if used carefully there is much scope for using light rail either to replace or compliment heavy rail - as well as open up entirely new routes. Maybe a more progressive administration will allow us to catch up with the continent and open a few more. It's ironic that the clutch of light rail schemes we have now were nearly all planned and approved by the Thatcher and Major governments.
I'm cheered by the sight of some kids photographing trams and trains at Hucknall, despite their baseball caps and tracksuits they're not following some stupid "cool" agenda. The train is on time - a scruffy two coach 158. It's a steady but largely uneventful run to Worksop, meeting up with the line I'd passed this morning. Though I'm doing the return trip I have to get off and cross platforms. I see the controls reversed as the tail lights become headlights before the train enters the platform. The conductor looks at me as if not sure if he's seen me before but says nothing! Back to Nottingham, where it's starting to get dark. That's the main problem with bashing in winter, there is always a point where you can no longer see the scenery and then it becomes a bit pointless, winter trips tend to have to be shorter by necessity. The only comfort is that on the final leg home I have usually trekked this way a few times so there is nothing new to see anyway. If I plan it carefully it's only darkness for the familiar stretches. Mansfield is a big impressive stone station. I know that the line from Worksop to Nottingham was part of the GCR and only reopened in about 1993 as The Robin Hood Line. So I'm guessing they left much of in situ in the interval, waiting for new trains. I reflect on how much evocative old evidence of disused railways has gone in my lifetime, most of the Beeching cuts being just before my birth and continuing into my early years. Where I live there are some tiny signs left and it's nice to think of Mansfield having been allowed to stay rather than mindlessly ripped down.
Thanks to the good luck this morning at Sheffield I have time to do the Nottingham-Derby service before the final leg. A sort of mistake as it turns out. Not only was it rammed with Derby fans (no pun intended) on the way back (why don't people live where their teams are any more!), but because it was dark I saw nothing, and finally the service was just a loop between two lines I'd already done to make an inter-city link - exactly the sort of links I said I wouldn't bust a gut over. Oh well, it's another line.
I have time for a couple of drinks before clambering on the three coach 170 to Norwich, fast to Grantham where I'm getting off. Nothing to see by now of course. At Grantham I have an hour's wait for my train to London, not something I relish as the station bar is full of drunken sounding blokes and I'm not inclined to wander about outside to find a pub. There is a GNER train simmering on the platform. My ticket is supposed to be tied to the later train - hence its cheapness - but I have a word with the conductor and he is happy for me to get on this service. It's no skin off his nose, after all, especially as the train is pretty empty by this time of night. I'm pleased to say that usually when I've spoken to railway staff because of stuff like this they've been almost universally friendly and accommodating. Except in London where everyone in any customer service job seems to be sliding into the same cynical indifferent attitude. Including me, probably! It's never a place I'm desperate to return to, though I'm pleased to get home anyway, especially after busy days such as today.
New lines added today:
Loughborough-Nottingham
Nottingham-Sheffield
Sheffield-Worksop-Gainsborough-Lincoln
Lincoln-Newark-Nottingham
Nottingham-Derby
Nottingham-Grantham
Saturday 13 January 2007
Sunday 7 January 2007
Weston Super Mare and Weymouth branches
Yep, just a week into the New Year and I'm back at Bristol Temple Meads. It's marginally more cheerful than when I was here last, despite the dismal weather. It was never really a day for the seaside, fog and rain keeping the January standards high. A small number of lines today that ends up being quite complicated in the event.
From Bristol, where I have arrived on the ubiquitous 125, I can choose a stopping or a fast service to Weston Super Mare, which is tucked away on a single line branch off the main line between Bristol and Taunton. I reason that the fast train will be emptier and more comfortable. Not so! I have a moment's doubt as I see a decent 158 arrive for the stopping train. Then a mangy single coach 153 arrives for the fast service. And FGW wonder why they have a poor reputation. This has come all the way from Gloucester! My displeasure at the state of the train is tempered by a poor bloke who helps his daughter on with her luggage and ends up going with us because he is slow to get off again. Luckily for him there is another train in the other direction quite soon at the first stop.
On to the branch, and Weston is of course, empty, and probably not very nice when busy, it being another traffic trap. I don't hang around. When I get back to the station I find a proper station pub on the platform. In retrospect I wish I'd stayed longer to sample its array of local beers and ciders, as the day was about to nose-dive. But, down to Taunton on a Voyager, a trip I really enjoyed. The driver really gave it some squirt, and it was just a comfortable place to be, watching the Somerset winter flying past.
A long gap awaited me at Taunton so I found the nearest decent pub. Heading back, I discovered my connection to Castle Cary, where I was to pick up the Weymouth train, had been cancelled. The next service was now going to make an extra stop there, but it was over an hour away. And think I have missed the connection now anyway. I opted to get the next Voyager back to Bristol. I got on the carriage with the conductor in it, and explained the situation. He said that was fine and invited me to sit in first class for nothing. It's so nice when you get staff who just do a bit more than they need to.
Back at Bristol I now have to wait for the next Weymouth train, there not being too many of them, so I head to the Wetherspoons in the newly developed docks. I've been here a few times now, it's not bad. Finally the second line of the day looms into site as I clamber on to a two coach Sprinter. The bit from Bristol through Bath, Trowbridge and Westbury I've done, then we're on to the main Exeter line for a bit until Castle Cary. Westbury is interesting because it still has a glass overall roof, despite being a small station, though it is a junction. Lots of less than busy stations had such constructions. Castle Cary doesn't seem to have a castle nearby, though it is now best known as the station for the Glastonbury Festival. It has a couple of pubs that I was going to sample until things started to go wrong.
We head through Yeovil (Pen Mill) then out of Somerset into Dorset. After a stop at one of the county town of Dorchester's two stations, we join up with the 3rd rail line from Waterloo before terminating at Weymouth. Even though it's now dark, I decide to follow the tracks to the ferry port. This is a single track line that continues on from the main station, actually through the streets, like a tram, down to to the docks. Because a live 3rd live would have been a bit dangerous in the streets, the boat train was coupled to a diesel loco at the terminus and hauled through the streets to the quayside, with two blokes in hi-viz jackets waving red flags leading it. I always meant to go and see it. but by the time I was in a position to do so, the practice had ended. There is hardly any interchange between rail and sea in the south now. The tracks are still usable, stuck in the tarmac, but the dock station is now a carpark. The platforms are still there, and I walk up the ramp and stand there imagining the scene that used to be.
Then, one last treat. (Doesn't take much to please me!). The 442 EMUs that run from Weymouth to Waterloo are the last coaches in the UK to have first class compartments, 3 seats each side with a corridor to one side. I upgrade for a fiver, and enjoy this luxury for one last time - this stock is being withdrawn next week. In this brave new privatised world, companies choose their own trains. South West has just bought a load of German trains to replace its slam-door stock and would prefer to replace the BR 442s with this and thus have just one set of maintenance, driver knowledge, etc for its long distance trains. Which is fair enough I suppose, though it would have been even better for to choose the SAME stock as Southern and South Eastern as in the BR days. Ggggrrr! The 442s were only built 20 years ago, but in classic BR style they recycled many parts from trains they were 20 years old then. Good use of resources, you and I think, not them. So they're out. Too good to waste, Southern are to use them on Gatwick and Brighton services - some common sense at last. As I go through the barrier at Waterloo, I sneak a quick photo with my 'phone, as I think these are really good vehicles and am sorry to see them being wound down. Oooh, dangerously like a spotter. Another day, two more lines.
London-Bristol
Bristol-Weston Super Mare
Weston Super Mare-TAunton
Taunton-Bristol
Bristol-Weymouth
Weymouth-London
From Bristol, where I have arrived on the ubiquitous 125, I can choose a stopping or a fast service to Weston Super Mare, which is tucked away on a single line branch off the main line between Bristol and Taunton. I reason that the fast train will be emptier and more comfortable. Not so! I have a moment's doubt as I see a decent 158 arrive for the stopping train. Then a mangy single coach 153 arrives for the fast service. And FGW wonder why they have a poor reputation. This has come all the way from Gloucester! My displeasure at the state of the train is tempered by a poor bloke who helps his daughter on with her luggage and ends up going with us because he is slow to get off again. Luckily for him there is another train in the other direction quite soon at the first stop.
On to the branch, and Weston is of course, empty, and probably not very nice when busy, it being another traffic trap. I don't hang around. When I get back to the station I find a proper station pub on the platform. In retrospect I wish I'd stayed longer to sample its array of local beers and ciders, as the day was about to nose-dive. But, down to Taunton on a Voyager, a trip I really enjoyed. The driver really gave it some squirt, and it was just a comfortable place to be, watching the Somerset winter flying past.
A long gap awaited me at Taunton so I found the nearest decent pub. Heading back, I discovered my connection to Castle Cary, where I was to pick up the Weymouth train, had been cancelled. The next service was now going to make an extra stop there, but it was over an hour away. And think I have missed the connection now anyway. I opted to get the next Voyager back to Bristol. I got on the carriage with the conductor in it, and explained the situation. He said that was fine and invited me to sit in first class for nothing. It's so nice when you get staff who just do a bit more than they need to.
Back at Bristol I now have to wait for the next Weymouth train, there not being too many of them, so I head to the Wetherspoons in the newly developed docks. I've been here a few times now, it's not bad. Finally the second line of the day looms into site as I clamber on to a two coach Sprinter. The bit from Bristol through Bath, Trowbridge and Westbury I've done, then we're on to the main Exeter line for a bit until Castle Cary. Westbury is interesting because it still has a glass overall roof, despite being a small station, though it is a junction. Lots of less than busy stations had such constructions. Castle Cary doesn't seem to have a castle nearby, though it is now best known as the station for the Glastonbury Festival. It has a couple of pubs that I was going to sample until things started to go wrong.
We head through Yeovil (Pen Mill) then out of Somerset into Dorset. After a stop at one of the county town of Dorchester's two stations, we join up with the 3rd rail line from Waterloo before terminating at Weymouth. Even though it's now dark, I decide to follow the tracks to the ferry port. This is a single track line that continues on from the main station, actually through the streets, like a tram, down to to the docks. Because a live 3rd live would have been a bit dangerous in the streets, the boat train was coupled to a diesel loco at the terminus and hauled through the streets to the quayside, with two blokes in hi-viz jackets waving red flags leading it. I always meant to go and see it. but by the time I was in a position to do so, the practice had ended. There is hardly any interchange between rail and sea in the south now. The tracks are still usable, stuck in the tarmac, but the dock station is now a carpark. The platforms are still there, and I walk up the ramp and stand there imagining the scene that used to be.
Then, one last treat. (Doesn't take much to please me!). The 442 EMUs that run from Weymouth to Waterloo are the last coaches in the UK to have first class compartments, 3 seats each side with a corridor to one side. I upgrade for a fiver, and enjoy this luxury for one last time - this stock is being withdrawn next week. In this brave new privatised world, companies choose their own trains. South West has just bought a load of German trains to replace its slam-door stock and would prefer to replace the BR 442s with this and thus have just one set of maintenance, driver knowledge, etc for its long distance trains. Which is fair enough I suppose, though it would have been even better for to choose the SAME stock as Southern and South Eastern as in the BR days. Ggggrrr! The 442s were only built 20 years ago, but in classic BR style they recycled many parts from trains they were 20 years old then. Good use of resources, you and I think, not them. So they're out. Too good to waste, Southern are to use them on Gatwick and Brighton services - some common sense at last. As I go through the barrier at Waterloo, I sneak a quick photo with my 'phone, as I think these are really good vehicles and am sorry to see them being wound down. Oooh, dangerously like a spotter. Another day, two more lines.
London-Bristol
Bristol-Weston Super Mare
Weston Super Mare-TAunton
Taunton-Bristol
Bristol-Weymouth
Weymouth-London
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