Cornwall and Devon branches no.3 4-5 May 2007

If I'd been patient, I'd have waited until the Summer timetable which features a Sunday service on the Par-Newquay branch (as pitiful as the weekday service, but still a service!). But in my drive to get the last south west branches finished, after much trying to work around engineering works and Saturday-only trains, I decided to take Friday 4 May off, and thus give myself a four day weekend, the Monday being a bank holiday anyway. This would involve a breakneck trip on the Gunnislake branch, an overnight stay in Falmouth and a short trip to Newquay, as well as about ten hours on trains up and down the main line to the south west!

So come Friday 4 May, I left for New Beckenham at around 7 to get the train up to town, arriving at Paddington in plenty of time to have a nice breakfast before getting on the 9.05 125 to Plymouth. It's a really pleasant trip down. The run through the empty Somerset countryside is wonderful as everything is starting to bloom. Then there's the lovely skimming along the river Exe estuary and the seafront at Dawlish and Teignmouth that feels as if you're floating on the sea. It's an area that I really must do some walking around once the quest is over. At our destination I get my ticket for the rest of the day then try to find a way to kill an hour before the Gunnislake train. Plymouth is not a city I have happy memories of, I've tried to find something to see there without success in the past so decide to strike out in the opposite direction to the appallingly grim network of subways leading to the town - thank you 60s town planners - and find firstly a pub that is shut, then a student pub. This turns out to be a goldmine - Bombardier at £1 a pint - it's a nice atmosphere and an interesting mixture of customers. It's always handy to know of decent watering holes when waiting for trains, the majority of station places being rubbish, and I commit it to memory for future reference!

The Gunnislake train is a one coach Sprinter (gggrrr! a single coach is a BUS!) but sadly one coach is adequate for the number of passengers. Despite most of the stops being request stop, we stop for at least two people at all of them. All of the Plymouth stops are so close together and so close to the central station, that I can't see that they are of much use really! If the central station wasn't so unpleasantly sited, it would be easier to walk to most of them from the centre I suspect. It's ironic that the railway provides the best way across the Tamar to Saltash station on the other side but because this is on the main line it probably gets a poor service because the long distance trains have priority. The line twists and turns a couple of times before ducking under Brunel's Tamar bridge and heading northwards. The bridge seems to appear out of nowhere and we get a fantastic view of it as it head away once more. After breaking away from the city the line heads through some beautful countryside which manages to have that feel of the south west that I can't quite define. We head across some fantastic viaducts and one magnificent girder bridge over the Tamar once more, before passing a line joining us from the left. This is the remainder of the route to Gunnislake. At Bere Alston we will reverse to head up this line. At Bere Alston the line used to continue to Tavistock, Okehampton and Exeter. I still can't believe that this line could not pay its way, linking various largish towns and providing a diversion for the main line into Plymouth. This is dogged by storms and salt spray washing away the ballast and disabling signalling and the newer trains and Network Rail must curse their predecessors for removing it. It's refreshing to know that a developer is hoping to reinstate it as they build thousands of new houses in the area and hope that it comes to fruition. I can't see how the Gunnislake branch survived at all when it doesn't reach any towns any more! I'd love to get out and look up the line to see how much is left but the driver wastes no time in walking to the other cab and heading off in the opposite direction. At Gunnislake we turn around straight away, so we must be late. I wonder how this will affect my connections at Plymouth for the next trip. The train seems to be carrying a few enthusiasts, snapping station signs and, like myself, not getting off at Gunnislake but just staying on! The conductor is not at all surprised, just saying, "Hello again!" to me. Must be used to the likes of me.

At Plymouth I check the board and fine out that the fast train from London was supposed to be leaving one minute after I arrive from Gunnislake, but it is running over half an hour late. This will not affect my connection to Falmouth as it was the later, stopping train to Penzance that I was supposed to be getting, so this is an unexpected bonus. To distribute the build up of passengers the stopping patterns have been altered. The fast one is stopping only at Bodmin and Truro and the stopping one is covering EVERY stop. I get some lunch and wait for the fast train. This gives me a much better trip to Truro (apart from just about everyone ignoring the no-mobiles rule in the quiet coach - are people SO childish that they can't follow one rule for an hour or two?) and a more certain connection, now giving me twenty minutes grace.
Truro is chaotic, the schools have turned out, there are loads of cabs and cars that have built up because of the delay and it's difficult to get your bearings without getting in someone's way. Luckily the Falmouth train is a two coach 158 so there is room for everyone. It heads off on time, taking no time to head through the countryside to its coastal terminus. I didn't know it at the time, but Penmere is effectively the suburbs of Falmouth. When we slide into Falmouth Town it's much more rural than I think it's going to be, which is a good sign. Unlikely to be another Skegness! Most of the remaining passengers get off here, and I think about joining them as the B&B I'm in is close by. Then I decide to keep going, just in case events prevent me from getting to the Docks station tomorrow, best to do it now while I'm sure of the chance! After the Town station, the line is practically running through grass, the tracks looking almost disused, something I don't think I've seen before. Seemingly seconds later we halt at Falmouth Docks, a one platform station, unusually with a full canopy in place, though the booking office is a shabby closed portakabin. I wonder how it has survived. The sign promotes it as the stop for Pendennis Castle, but there's not much in it in terms of distance from the Town station. It fascinates me, forlorn but alive, designed presumably for goods but still useful to people. I later find that the Docks station was closed, unsurprisingly, in 1970, but re-opened for unknown reasons in 1975. Perhaps they worked on the basis that if it was there it might as well be used, or that as the town station was so small that it was safer to distribute the reasonable passenger traffic over two stations. Some run down stations are depressing places - like Wakefield Kirkgate - but some have a curious romance about them, Falmouth Docks being one of them. It has a Dungeness-like feel about it.

I find my way to the Red Post B&B. It's a really lovely place. Whilst the wallpaper, fitments etc are the standard guest house fare, the owners have skillfully updated it. As well as a clean lick of paint everywhere they have used new mirrors, light fittings, etc, good bedding and towels, and little extras like local toiletries, decent coffee, and dressing gowns in the wardrobe, to create a superior feel to the place. They are also incredibly welcoming, showing me the view of the harbour from the landing window, a raised area with a sofa and books for the guests. I would heartily recommend it to anyone going to Falmouth and you can contact them via their website: http://www.thered-house.com/.

After a coffee I head down to the town. It's a nice town. It has its chain shops, its chavs and its tatty side but aside fom these perennials it combines pleasant houses piled up on the cliffs, a classic Cornish view, splendid pubs and restaurants, and a new Maritime quarter that includes a museum and the inevitable shopping centre. All of this sits happily with the working docks and harbour, and the monument of Pendennis Castle perched up on the point. I go to a couple of pubs selling local beers, one by Skinners of Truro called Keel Over was particuarly pleasant, one of the caramel flavoured beers. The Quayside Arms is full of characters and it's nice to find pubs that have a mixture of ages of types, not threatening on a Friday night, and chav-free! I don't actually make it to the one that I'd found on the internet but since I've resolved to come back for a proper visit, hopefully this year, it can wait. Besides which I'm hungry now. There's a bright clean new chip shop in the high street, clearly knowing exactly how to sell itself, and I have a delicious Plaice and Chips before heading back to the guest house. I get a quiet comfortable night's sleep and look forward to the next day.

Breakfast is predictably pleasant, the dining room providing local honey, home made marmalade, and a Cornish speciality that the landlord suggests I try - Hog's Pudding, a sausagemeat and oatmeal White Pudding. It's old fashioned in that one shares tables with other guests, and I'm joined by someone who is down there for a diving holiday. In fact the whole place seems to be full of middle aged well heeled people dressing slightly too trendily for their age - not uncommon in this area I suspect. I don't think I fall into this category, except for being just about middle-aged!

I have a chat with the landlord before going then head down to the beach, on the south side of the point. I walk up and around the point but somehow manage not to see the castle once! Still, it's a beautiful promenade along a lane literally lined with flowers and am already looking forward to a proper visit. Aware that I am already half way though the hour that I have before the train, I keep a rapid pace, but needn't have worried. Before I know it, I am back at the docks. I realise that the giant P&O ferry that I'd seen peeping over the cranes the previous night is not going anywhere. It's in dry dock and is being worked on - repairs presumably. It's the Pride of Dover, which I have certainly seen at the other end of the south coast, possibly I have been on it, but it's a curious feeling, it's something binding me to home. I always feel a curious attachment to Kent and East Sussex that feels home-like; and being down in this extreme sout west corner of England feels like being in another country in some ways. So it's a bizarre reminder of another more familiar place. I have a chance to look around the Docks station as there is fifteen minutes to the train, but there's really little to see. There are some rusting tracks behind the platform that probably used to snake over to the docks, but I'm guessing they don't meet up with the embedded rails I'd seen evocatively snaking over to the dry dock. I decide to have a quick wander around the Maretime Museum area and then make my way to the Town station, which I assume will be bigger. Wrong! Like Docks, it's a tiny one platform affair elevated on an embankment, no displays, no ticket machine, though it does have a car park. As I look at the tracks curving away into what is practically a grassy lane leading to the terminus at the Docks, it strikes me that this line really sums up what I like about trains. Even though the train will eventually carry over 50 people into Truro, its impact will be minimal. Between the two Falmouth stations, the line slips unseen, passing over pleasant brick bridges that seem to grow into the lush embankments, passing unseen behind houses before sliding into the bay platform at Truro. With cars there are acres of grey concrete, constant noise and pollution, drivers frequently risking self and others on a routine basis. Not to mention the car parks, out of town industry and shopping etc etc. Even if the Falmouth line (a typical branch) had dual track and electrification, with half hourly four coach trains in both directions, its impact would still never be as unpleasant as the roads - and a damn sight more poeple would go to Truro by train!

Enough of my perennial wistful lecture. I get on a the single coach Sprinter to Truro, packed by the time we get there. At Truro I have just one minute to wait for the Par train, luckily it's late. At Par I have a quick look around, bearing in mind the hour that I have to wait there on the return trip. There is a pub, but I expected to see the sea a bit closer. There are no useful maps at the station and of course, I forgot to bring one. I decide to look at a map in Newquay. Meanwhile the two coach Sprinter for Newquay is sitting quietly in the bay platform. It appears to be timed to await the connection from Plymouth, so when this is late, so are we. The driver obviously expects the train to be late, because he doesn't even get in the cab and set the controls to forward until some time after it's due to leave! And then we're off. We pass VERY slowly through the greenery, over some extensive viaducts. I see evidence of track replacement, and presume that we're creeping to run it in. There's very little sign of habitation until we get in sight of Newquay. Someone asks the conductor when the return train at around 5pm is. It is EIGHT PM. That is, if you have gone to the coast for the day, you have to come back at 3pm, wait another 5 hours - not much good if you like your kids in bed by 7 - or do what I suspect most people do - drive or get the bus. The conductor is clearly embarrassed and makes a joke of the low quality of service. My own theory about the shocking service on this line - just 4 trains on Saturdays in each direction, and no Sunday service until Summer, providing nothing for Easter or May Day Sundays - is that no-one is really interested in providing a train service for local people on this line. Newquay has become an Ibiza-like resort and most of its trade will come from the rest of the UK and in summer. In summer, there are daily through trains to Newquay from London, Manchester and Edinburgh, something no other branch down there has. So most summer revellers get no inkling of the poor local trains. The remainder, the stag parties, the groups will either come by car or minibus. I'm sure that the line survives to service the through trains, so the local stoppers are non-existent. A great shame. The new looking dual carriage way that we hug for the last few miles while we have to slow to 20mph for unmanned level crossings is a testament to the service, as well as the UK transport policy generally!

Newquay is what I expected. Dodgy looking clubs and pubs, chavs and posers galore. The bay is spectacular but the beach is so full of "lads" that it's quite intimidating. I give up and start to look for the pubs I'd found on the internet. None of them appeal. This is a world away from the rest of Cornwall! I spot the bus station and see if there is an early way out - I'd been planning to get the 3.10pm back. The thought that if it is cancelled I'm here until 8pm and that I'd tried to get a hotel here feels me with horror. Just as I'm reading the timetables a Falmouth via Truro bus comes along. I get on and return to Truro. Luckily we don't hit any jams and the bus is only about a third full. I'm just glad to get away from there. I would really like to learn to surf one day but I think it won't be at Newquay - I just found it too much.

The bus dumps me in the town at Truro and there are no signs or maps pointing me to the station. I know that it's at the top of a hill though, so I strike out in roughly the right direction, climbing higher and higher until I see the viaduct. Eventually I emerge in the station road just above it. I've been stuck here before and never found a decent pub close to the station - wouldn't fancy walking up from the town after a drink - and today is no exception. I check the times and disocver that I can get the next train down to Penzance, where it will form the last up train to London, ie, the one I am booked on at Par. I buy the right combination of tickets to enable me just to stay on the train and gratefully climb aboard. At Penzance two ladies going to catch the Scilly Isles helicopter give me some unwanted cans of orange which is nice of them, and then I have a quick wander around the town, as the train is returning in just over half an hour.

Next to the station there's a pub that proclaims that it doesn't sell junk food, only locally sourced home made meals. On this basis the beer is bound to be good so in I go. Not a bit of it! They sell 5 lagers - all the usual suspects and certainly not local - and Guinness - yawn. They've already seen by the time I'm near the bar so I don't like to turn around and leave. When I sit at the table and look at the infamous menu, I notice the Wine List. Every wine is from the New World - not even Europe! And Cornwall has plenty of local brewers AND that rarest of things in England - a vineyward. They are obviously just jumping on a gimmicky bandwagon - a BIG disappointment.

It's been a disappointing day, I really should have just stayed on the Newquay train when it turned round, gone to Par, and found something useful to do there. Now it's cost me extra in tickets and wound me up. I'm pleased to get on the London train. One thing to be salvaged from starting at Penzance is that this will be the longest train journey I've ever done awake (the sleeper doesn't count for obvious reasons). So I will see the whole Great Western line from start to finish in one go - pointless but curiously satisfying. A pointless record for a pointless quest I guess. Through the stages we go - Cornwall, then the Tamar Bridge and Plymouth, then Teignmouth, Dawlish, the River Exe and Exeter, Somerset's greenery with Taunton nestling in the middle, overtake the cars on the M5 without trying, the White Horse of Westbury, then suddenly we're at Pewsey - commuter land once more, then it's a quick run back to Paddington. I make full use of my complimentary refreshments and allow myself a short snooze, but I do feel that I've been travelling for a day when I get off. I shall miss the HST when it goes - it'll be interesting to see how many get preserved. It's a bit big for the average rural steam railway. It's a trouble free trip back on the tube and train to home, and I'm certainly pleased to be back there.

New Lines covered:

Plymouth-Gunnislake
Truro - Falmouth Docks
Par - Newquay