Scotland 30 June - 4 July 2008

30 June – 4 July 2008 Scottish Highlands and East Coast

2008 is proving to be my year for Scotland. My fourth visit since Easter and progress is good. The whole of the eastern side of the country is now complete. This particular trip was another mega-bash along the lines of North-West England in 2007 and West Wales in 2006. Partly this was due to the fact the lines in question are big on heavy gradients and sharp curves, as well as generally single track from end to end, so journeys on them are long and low frequency, requiring careful planning to avoid too many long gaps between trips or unnecessary overnight stays. But the fact that the whole jaunt takes place at the opposite end of the UK means that two days are needed just to get there and back. Sleepers were an option but these would be more expensive and actually make the whole thing more rushed. It's always nice to get some rest and enjoy some local sights too!

Day One: Monday 30 June 2008

The day kicked off relatively late by my standards as my first train was the daily midday “Highland Chieftain,” from King's Cross to Inverness. However as I was about to be away from my post-work BMF classes for two weeks I thought it would be a good idea to get one done before the train, as there are morning classes for those of us not stuck in the nine to five! Then my holiday was really underway. I settled down on the 8 coach HST for the long journey with the laptop that I am writing this on (Asus EeePC) but could not get the thing to connect to the Wireless Network on the East Coast. Never mind, as there were no power sockets I would only get three hours at a time between charges anyway. The lady opposite read some of the notes I was working on for a job application and made some apologetic suggestions, which led to an interesting conversation about her work as a barrister. Something of this nature always seems to happen to me on this line now!

She got off at York, which once seemed such a long way but today will be hours behind soon. I'm relatively familiar with the route to Edinburgh now and it seemed to speed past. We were crossing the Tyne in less than three hours, the waters rushing away out to sea far below, Then it was across the Royal Border Bridge at Berwick and we were in Scotland. The train had been almost full but a good half of them were only going to Edinburgh which is not surprising I suppose. A few brave souls were hanging on for more northerly climes.

Much to my disappointment we did not cross the Forth Bridge and head up via Aberdeen though of course that does not make sense for a direct Inverness train anyway! Our route was through Falkirk, Stirling, Perth and Aviemore. I found it unbelievable that it would take another three and a half hours after Edinburgh, especially as the train seemed to be running pretty fast but that's what it takes. It's worth it though, beyond the grandiose Perth station the landscape takes on the fairy tale cliché appearance. We head through mountains and rivers, though sadly it's difficult to take pictures given our speed. Finally we curl into Inverness at 8pm, the sky still light as expected on this far North summer day. The London Sleeper is waiting for departure on the opposite platform which is an odd feeling when I last stood in the open air at midday!

Despite the light, it's noticeably colder than when I was tearing around Hyde Park this morning and I need a jacket for the ten minute walk to my guest house. It's basic but clean and comfortable. I head out to find a pub or two (no need for food as I have been eating sandwiches all the way up!). I look for one called Johnny Foxes but it appears to have been turned into a trendy restaurant, then for The Gunsmiths, which sounded promising. When I get there I hear dance music and realise it's been got at by the trendy bar lobby. Such places are a bit useless when you're on your own. Two doors down is McCallums, which has a loose rock theme and lots of domino games going on, so it seems suitable. As it turns out it's wall to wall Tennants so I have just one then try the next one on the list, The Blackfriars. And there I strike gold. It's got about five guest ales, plus all of the Shilling range and a couple of others besides. What's more, there are a couple of blokes playing traditional music and people are enthusiastically doing country dancing lessons. Great! I stay for a few, more than I intended because a bloke strikes up a conversation with me and buys me another one (it would be rude to refuse). He's a carpenter from Fort William, and he owns houses in Croydon and Scarborough so we have a bit to talk about. He hates the idea of working in an office too. He's a bit steamed so he doesn't stay for me to return the drink, indeed he leaves half his in the end. The place is winding down by 11.30 so I head back. I manage to get lost in a council estate – something I always seem to do, must be the pull of home – but get back safely in the end. I'm struck by how light it is still, it's more like 9pm would be in London. Time for sleep...

Day Two – Tuesday 1 July 2008

...as I have to be up at 6.15am. I wake a couple of hours before as it's already broad daylight and get some more sleep, eat the cold breakfast the landlady has left for me and head for the station. I hoist my stuff on to the waiting two coach 158, awaiting the off at 7.14am. This is the first of many ponderous trips I will do this week, though it's by no means as slow as I expected. The line is an interesting mixture. It does of course curl through sweeping mountains and over bubbling streams as I'd hoped. There were a few, though not many closed stations, and usually the buildings were still in place. What stations there were had been heavily rationalised but usually the unused platforms had been left to sprout carpets of wild flowers. At Rogart were some camping coaches – a great idea that I wish was more extensively used – and at Brora someone had adopted the station and installed old enamel advertisements for soap and tobacco.

What really struck me though, was the sheer emptiness of the place north of Perth, particularly so north of Inverness. I knew of the Highland Clearances, and this does lend this beautiful landscape a sombre quality (a cliché I know, but so true), but as a Londoner used to jostling with 8 million others, I was not prepared for the scale of depopulation. There were seemingly many more animals than people! Cows, horses and sheep were grazing together, something I'd not seen before. Hardly any of them seemed bothered by the train, even though there are very few of them passing each day. There was even a goat wearing a hi-viz jacket, presumably because at some point it had managed to wander on to the track! Trackside fencing here was not as high as elsewhere but still lined the whole route. The closer we got to the north most point, a second line of fencing appeared behind the first one, which resembled beach breakwaters. Wonder what it's for? Somehow it seemed to emphasise the desolate nature of the region which had flattened out into scorched heathland – what a local friend's father had described as “tundra” - and I can certainly see what he means now. For a stretch we skirt the North Sea before turning inland again and it seems such an unfriendly companion here in contrast to the blue waters and white beaches of Fife and Durham.

At Georgemass Junction the line divides, and the train reverses to head to Thurso. After Thurso it will return to the Junction then up the other branch to Wick. On its return to Inverness it has to then reverse at Georgemass again after calling at Thurso – it's complicated stuff and I shall see the rest of it tomorrow. Today's train journey ends at Thurso, the most northerly town on the mainland of Britain and the most northerly station in the UK. A sign above a modest shed welcomes me and I take a picture for no good reason. There are signs that the place has seen better times, though I don't know what Thurso was famous for in the past. Now its fortunes rest on Dounreay, the nuclear plant up the coast that is now being decommissioned over thirty years. The place is not unpleasant but not exactly inspiring either. I can't really imagine life in such a place as I come from the other extreme. I grab some bread etc for lunch and head back to the station where I am picking up the bus to John O'Groats.

It's a pleasant trip along the coast, the landscape seems like Dungeness on a huge scale to me! A lot of people get on when the bus reaches the main street in town, they all seem to know each other even though they get off in ones and twos as we call at the straggling communities hugging the northern coast en route. And most of them seem to be English! I certainly understand the pull of the place for overcrowded England, but it's still a surprise. We pass Dunnet Head in the distance, this is actually the most northerly point of the British mainland, I would have liked to visit but there isn't time because of the frequency of the buses along here. So I continue to and settle for John O'Groats. I say settle because its claim to fame is that it is the northern end of the longest distance it is possible to travel within the British mainland, the southern end being of course, Land's End, which I visited in 2005. So now I have the set. I'm not overjoyed because unlike Land's End, which has a regular bus service, various trails to follow, and a lot more of interest, including most importantly, a hotel with a bar, this outpost has almost nothing. The hotel is derelict, there are the usual tat shops (why craft and woollens in both places?), and they even charge to use the toilet!

I find possible solace in a turbo boat, but the crew won't take it out because the only other interested people are a family with largely smaller children, and they fear the conditions would be too much for them. They tell me I am likely to get wet and thrown about, but not knowing me, they didn't realise that was the point for me! I have my waterproofs, I protest, but it's no good. Now I have just two hours to kill. I walk along the cliff top as far to Dunscaby Head as I can get, but here I am frustrated as well, there isn't quite enough time to see the wild waters of the Pentland Firth before I have to turn round. I have to get used to the system of paths too. Effectively everywhere in Scotland is free to roam, and there are three actual categories where routes are more formalised. So often paths are not marked and I spent too much time trying to avoid fenced off areas, not realising they were fenced to keep sheep in rather than walkers out! Oh well. Back to John O'Groats, where a moderately heavy rain is falling now. I have a quick conversation with a cyclist who is camping there tonight (I feel a pang of envy though god knows what I'd do with the evening) then get on the bus to Wick.

It's a short journey (though I did nod off so maybe it wasn't). Wick is a slightly edgy town, a look of time having forgot it, the buildings a bit battered and grey and lots of neds speeding up and town in their chavmobiles, LEDs whizzing round and oversized exhausts blasting. I find my rest for the night above the Clydesdale Bank. The owners are a young couple and the rooms are all refurbished with modern touches and furniture, as well as beautifully clean. My room is a family room so it is huge. After sorting myself out I head into town. The bars look unwelcoming and the chip shops are closed, so after watching the firemen putting out a practice fire by the harbour I head for Wetherspoons. You know what you're getting with them and for once it's welcome as the town isn't a place I'm at ease with. It's grill night so I can get a reasonable meal with a drink, and then even better, McEwans 80/- is only £1.59 a pint so it's a cheap night. Back at the B&B I can't get in, and can't get a mobile signal (I have been with three networks yet I'm always the one who can't get a signal at times like this). I ring the B&B from the kebab shop opposite and they tell me the main doors are unlocked. Oops! Luckily they hadn't gone to bed. Inside I gratefully fall asleep.

Day Three: Wednesday 2 July 2008

Breakfast is taken at a more earthly hour today with two Ross County youth players in the dining room, and afterwards I go for a look around Wick. There isn't much, though in daylight it's much less edgy. I decide to walk along the cliffs eastwards. There are magnificent basalt shelves of cliffs that I take great delight in clambering over, dropping down from cliff to cliff until I am faced with the last sheer drop. I lie at the edge and watch two blokes fishing on a still lower ledge, no idea how they got there! The water crashes over them and they are not bothered. They're not even wearing waterproofs or boots so they hopefully know what they're doing. Above me a Midlands accent asks how they got there. No escape from England! I keep going and cross a firing range (not in use!), having great fun climbing some of the obstacles next to tank tracks before crossing a spectacular gorge then ending my walk at the ruins of the old Wick Castle, a legacy of its Viking past. It's then time to return to the town and the next journey.

At the station is a surprise. It is EXACTLY the same as Thurso. Same building design, layout, posters, lockers, welcome sign, everything! Almost as if they were made from a mould. I photograph it before getting on, noting the same grander past that the place must have had, judging by the number of disused platforms. Another two coach 158 (I wonder if it's the same one!) takes us down the branch to Georgemass Junction, the bit I didn't do yesterday, then up to Thurso, back again, a reversal at the junction then down to Inverness. I take photographs from the opposite side of the train today. I notice quite a few of the same people from yesterday, which is curious, maybe they're doing the same as me. All is well until Lairg, where as we pull out the train stops and the guard announces a technical fault. I had noticed a bit of slow running earlier and the two combined cost us nearly fifty minutes once we get going again, the driver having reversed to allow people off while he sorts the problem. This isn't a problem if nothing else happens as I had nearly an hour and a half before my next train at Inverness. Looks like I've lost my return trip to the Blackfriars now though!

Worse is to come. At Inverness the train to the Kyle of Lochalsh is running 20 minutes late, so I stop in the bar and call the guest house there to let them know I will be late. They then inform me that I was booked on the 2/3 July; when I state that it IS 2 July, they casually say that there is no vacant room tonight. I'm not best pleased and I remind them that I offered to send a deposit to secure the room and they didn't require one. To this they reply that they tried to call my mobile that morning and got no reply. I remind them that this is the Highlands and people have been known to go out of range. Confirmation is also not something they required! Facing the prospect of trying to find a bed late at night here or there, or sleeping rough, or getting the sleeper home at great expense, I prepare to blow and start by thanking them for stranding me 600 miles from home without somewhere to sleep. The owner tells me she will sort something and I should still get the train. I get a call from them as the inevitable two coach 158 departs to say they have put a bed in the dining room. I am relieved but it has spoilt things a bit, I don't like getting annoyed with people like I did but I think it was justified somewhat!

I cheer up as I find out what all the fuss is about. The line passes through, quite simply, the most spectacular landscape I have yet seen. It skirts round loch after loch, water shining silently as mountains covered in mist are reflected in its inky depths. The train goes incredibly slowly as it has to negotiate those curves, but it doesn't matter for a change. You want to take time to enjoy this! You can see the single track snaking into the distance then round the edge of a loch out of sight, and this is when I think rail is king. Our presence hardly troubles this paradise, but if there were as many cars trying to drive this as there were people on the train, it would be a different story. Eventually one track splits into four and we reach the two platform terminus at the Kyle of Lochalsh. It's a different station design, nicely preserved though hardly any of it as a station now. There are craft shops and whisky shops, a museum, a fishery office and a fish restaurant (now sadly closed and in Plockton, five miles away). The station has lost much of its former function, again long wide platforms lie covered in weeds, a new health centre being built on the opposite one, as the ferry to Kylealkin on the nearby Isle of Skye no longer meets the train as it did once. Now you have to go to further north or south for ferries, or cross the Skye Bridge – more on which tomorrow.

The owner of the guest house meets me and drives me back – it takes about thirty seconds, why on earth would I ever not walk that? I take the gesture in the spirit of goodwill, as I suspect it's partly to make up for their error. Back at the guest house I am shown into my room, in fact the dining room with a bed made up, and join the other guests at the table for a glass of wine. They are a couple who have come up by motorbike for a couple of days. Their booking was messed up too so they have to move to a different guest house tomorrow night. We have a chat about bikes given my fledgling scooter career and what I am trying to achieve with the pointless quest. They head out to the pub, I'd like to tag along but as they are a couple I presume they'll want to be on their own. Once I've got the room to myself I get settled and head out myself to a different pub. There are two hotels which seem a bit smart for a scruff like me, and two blond wood bars. Blond wood is not what I expected here. I give in and go into the North West Bar, where they have a few ales at least. There are a load of builders in there, from their conversation I gather they are building the new health centre and staying in the town. That must be an interesting way to work, though it must be unsettling sometimes, not being at home for long periods.

I marvel at the everyday midnight closing and the wonderful light sky as I head back to base and thankfully, a night's sleep in a bed, something I was not sure of getting a few hours ago.

Day Four: Thursday 3 July 2008

After breakfast with the other guests, I get the bus to Eilean Donnal castle. I really knew nothing about it but it’s apparently famous. It was originally built to defend the McCrae clan but played a part in wars against the Vikings and the English. In the twentieth century the owner rebuilt it as a sort of folly, and it is now a romantic monument, used in films such as Highlander. There's not too much to it but it's a nice restful diversion away from the business of the quest. It's perched on one of the multitude of sea lochs that characterise this area. I sit on a rock revealed by the outgoing tide and drink in the landscape. I could have watched for hours without a doubt. However time does not allow, and I head off to look around the nearby village of Dornie. It's a tiny settlement along one side of the road, two pubs – one blond, one closed. Reluctantly I settle for the former after buying a paper. I have a conversation with a young bloke coming out as I'm going in, as he is wearing an Arsenal shirt! I comment on it and he says that he has always been an Arsenal and a Hearts fan, bizarre! His accent is an interesting one that I haven't heard before, thickish, and I guess the Scottish “country” accent. People greet me as I am walking around, even from their cars, and I realise that in tiny communities like this, people have to acknowledge each other because they all need each other. In urbanised communities so much is done by people that we don't know that we take them for granted. One temp today, another one tomorrow. It's not healthy and it's a lightbulb moment for this lifelong city dweller. I know why I want to live somewhere like this now. People are suddenly valuable once more.

I get the bus back to Lochalsh and can now thankfully use my own room, so get changed for a walk and pack my bag with waterproofs etc. Then I head out up to the Skye Bridge. This is in two stages, crossing from the mainland to a smaller island in Loch Alsh, then a raised span over the rest of the loch and almost into Kylelakin on the island. It's quite a sight, but then I like engineering, particularly bridges. But I don't like the idea that walkers used to be able to get a ferry across that met the train that took a shorter time, and was a much more gentle and pleasant way to amble across. Now you have to do a five mile round trip on foot, inches from speeding cars on the bridge, or get a shuttle bus, neither of which appeal. Not everything new is progress. I wonder what the bridge has done for the traffic on the island. Certainly the roads around the Kyle are as dangerous and busy as some of those at home! Also, what happened to the inevitable community of people that grew up around the ferry trips? All that must be gone if everyone can just leap in their car any time they want and head over to the mainland to go to Tescos.

The views from the bridge are undoubtedly spectacular, and I get some good pictures. Kylelakin is a rather sad forgotten place, probably due to the loss of the ferry. The hostel is closed, there are no pubs to speak of, and the whole shooting match looked far better from the Kyle side of the loch. I have lunch then wander up to the ruins of Castle Moi. I have to cross a beach to reach it and there is a sign warning of the tide, which is indeed coming in. I'd like to spend longer at the romantic ruin and maybe try to climb up one of the mountains behind it. However I don't know the area, and the tides may be an issue if I have to come back this way. I don't fancy bedding down in the ruin having secured a bed over the water. Rain starts to pelt down just then which decides the issue once and for all. I get my waterproofs on and head back, catching sight of one of the biker guests from the guest house arriving at the other place they have had to make for tonight.

Back in Lochalsh I don't fancy going back just yet so I go to the other blond pub, which has a Gaelic name that is pronounced Coolens, don't ask me to spell it! There has been a wake going on all day which I spotted starting a few hours ago. I'm always drawn to the idea of these small communities. All the people there knew each other, I'd seen most of them working on post vans, shops, fishing boats while I'd been there. Again that idea of interdependence. God help the place if it ever gets too big. However some things are everywhere and I'm put off a bit after every time I go to the loo, there's a hovering audience waiting to get into the cubicle to take coke. I get fish and chips and sit watching the water before going back.

Another biker is being settled in when I get there, he asks about pubs and I give him my opinion of the two I've been to. After a snooze I head out again to the North West Bar again, not wanting to go back to Culleens, where the other guest is. We chat until closing time. He's called Alec, from Aberdeen and just fancied a couple of days away. He's also in IT though for a solutions company rather than on a helpdesk. This is his first time back on a bike for 15 years, so I spend another evening talking bikes and pubs to someone! This has definitely been one of the more friendly trips I've done, a point which is reinforced when the people coming out of the wake give me a cheerful wave, seemingly recognising me from earlier! They must have been drinking for ten hours now, so it's not surprising that things get a bit excitable!

Day Five: Friday 4th July 2008

Another early start, I have to be on the 7.25 back to Inverness, the first step on perhaps my most epic trip yet on four trains over nearly 15 hours! I marvel at the watery landscape one last time and feel rather wistful as the train (yep, two coach 158) chugs through the mist and the sedate lochs once more. In Inverness I have time for a coffee before getting ANOTHER 158 to Aberdeen. I'm spoilt now, so the pleasant beaches and lush fields that we pass just aren't quite as spectacular as they once seemed as we head along the single track line to the granite city. Sadly I have only fifteen minutes in Aberdeen and I want to make sure I get a seat with a good view so get straight on the waiting three car 170 back to Edinburgh – hurrah – a different train. It's a grey old place and I will visit properly one day but the moment at least marks my visiting every city in Britain now (not the UK, haven't been to Northern Ireland yet!).

It's another picturesque trip back to Edinburgh on this very full train. I've done much of this line before but it was good to travel the magnificent Tay Bridge again, the coast of Fife, and of course the Forth Bridge. Made it back to Waverley six or so minutes before the London train left, and eventually found a seat (had one reserved but there was an elderly chap in it and I didn't like to turf him out). As I write we have just passed the Bounds Green depot at Hornsey. The epic is over. Now the biggest challenge of all – the Victoria Line and the Penge train...

Itineary
London King's Cross-Inverness
Inverness-Thurso/Wick
Inverness-Kyle of Lochalsh
Inverness-Aberdeen-Edinburgh
Edinburgh-London King's Cross

Scotland 19-20 April 2008

Such was my enthusiasm for Edinburgh that I rapidly booked a return trip, where one day would be spent "questing" and one day sightseeing. To make the most of the two days of the weekend, given the time needed to travel there, I opted to go on the sleeper. And of course I've never been on the Caledonian Sleepers and wanted to do that trip! Sadly I couldn't run to a berth so had to go for the seated coach. My previous experience of this in Cornwall wasn't great, though this one is slightly different in that in only makes two stops, whereas the Cornish one is practically a late local train, stopping at every sizable station until Taunton. So late on Friday 18 April I toddled over to Euston, and after a couple in the Doric Arch, ventured on to the platform where Britain's second-longest train awaited me. There are two sleepers - Highland and Lowland. The Highland has three sections for Inverness, Aberdeen and Fort William, splitting at Edinburgh, and it leaves at around 9pm. My train is the Lowland, with two sections for Glasgow and Ediburgh. It's comprised of two sets of Mark 3 Sleeper coaches plus a Mark 3 seated coach with each (the cheap seats!). The whole shebang is topped and tailed by class 90 electric locos. My solitary seated coach loitering at the back of its wealthier cousins holding cabins was closest to the platform entrance. Inside this class distinction was mirrored. We were next to the lounge car, almost like a bar on rails, with free standing chairs and table service. However a sign announced that this was closed to seated passengers, though we could stand at a hatch next to it and plead for refreshments.



Unlike a normal train people generally want to sleep, so there is a minimum of noise aside from one silly loud cow who makes calls until 1am and then wakes at 5.30am and starts to talk loudly to the woman opposite her. She is apologetic when I mention it so no harm done. I want to get some sleep but also, having those anorak tendencies, want to know which route we are taking through the West Midlands where there is a choice of about three lines. We seem to go Coventry, Bescot, Wolverhampton, then Stafford. Once I see the "Welcome to Tesco Stafford" sign loom I know we're past and can settle down. My booked seat was next to somebody else but by Watford no-one had taken the spare double seats in the carriage so I moved over to one of those, giving both parties a chance to stretch out properly. I get a reasonable sleep, looking out every now and then to see where we are. We stop for while at Preston and I recognise the river Luna at Lancaster. It's really atmospheric passing out of the populated areas with their millions of blinking orange lights illuminating no-one now, before seeing the mountains of the Lake District stark against the coming dawn. Then we're into Carlisle and I wonder if there will be a sign announcing us passing over the border, but if there is, I'm asleep before I see it.



Next thing I know, we stop at Carstairs in daylight. Here we are jolted about as the train is divided, the front half going to Glasgow and us going in the opposite direction to Edinburgh. The loco that has been dragged from London now bursts into life and hauls us for the short remaining journey. I didn't realise that this stretch was electrified until now which explains how both the East and West coast companies can easily do services to both major cities. Before I know it, the familiar sights of Waverley appear as we come to a halt about half an hour earlier than scheduled. I've an hour before the next bit of the quest, so I try to find breakfast anywhere but McDonalds, inevitably the only place open at that time. I fail and try to ignore the fat shining through the paper bag before starting the first leg of the day - the Fife Circle!



This is a loop crossing the Forth Bridge then linking many of the major towns of Fife - Rosyth, Dunferline, Cowdenbeath, Glenrothes and Kirkcaldy - before travelling along the north coast of the Forth then back to join itself before heading over the Forth Bridge once more. At this time I cover the route to Kirkcaldy via Glenrothes on a three coach 170. Fife looks a nice place, the clean looking towns nestling amongst pretty countryside with the peaks of the national park in the background.

At Kirkcaldy I change for another three class 170 to Dundee. There are a couple of blokes on the platform talking about one of the other re-openings going on at the moment - from Stirling to Alloa and Kincardine. This may have been chiefly done to allow coal trains from a west coast port to reach Longannet Power Station without using up precious capacity on the Forth Bridge. However as a by product it has given Alloa a rail service once more. The hope is that ultimately there will be a stop at Kincardine and the passenger service will reach right through to Dunfermline again. If it's going to happen it will be here, given the recent record on rail revival.

The highlight of the trip is the Tay Bridge. This is not as spectacular as the Forth Bridge but still an amazing structure, winding along the banks of the banks of the Tay Firth then striking out across the estuary. It takes a few minutes to cross, highlighting just how long a span it is. This is the second Tay Bridge, the first being brought down in a storm in 1879, killing 70 people on a crossing train. Investigations found that some of the riveting on the bridge was sub-standard and the strength of the storm that night just hadn't been allowed for. It spawned two things - a poem by William McGonagall, and a much more over-engineered bridge for the Forth so that there wouldn't be a repeat of the Tay disaster. As it transpired the Forth Bridge was unnecessarily complex, and the new Tay Bridge is somewhat less dramatic. However over a hundred years later, it still has plenty of life in it, whilst the 1960s Forth Road Bridge is considered to be unviable after around 2013!

I have time at Dundee to take a few pictures of the Tay bridges before returning for the inevitable class 170 to Perth. Dundee is an interesting station feeling very much the whole thing is in a deep hollow, where trains curve out of the underworld into the platforms. The journey to Perth is short but scenic, along the north bank of the Tay. I have an hour at Perth and have a look around. It's a pretty town, full of churches and pleasant civic buildings. As well as the inevitable cloned high street. The station is a mix of old and new. There is a new entrance building but it leads to a magnificent sprawling set of platforms as befits a busy junction. The lines from Stirling and Edinburgh meet here and diverge out to Dundee and Inverness. There is a hint of faded grandeur here amongst the echoing footbridges and platforms.

The reason for the hour's wait is for one the less frequent direct trains to Edinburgh, yes, another class 170, which follows the south bank of the Tay through Newburgh before rejoining the Fife line at Ladybank. This is an even more scenic trip, taking in the coastal stretch of the Fife circle before crossing the Forth and into Edinburgh. By now the sun is out and the water sparkles.

I have time to grab a sandwich before another class 170 takes me to Glasgow Queen Street. There are three direct routes between the two cities - Falkirk High, Shotts, and Carstairs. When Airdrie to Bathgate is rebuilt there will be four. I'm on the first of these. It's absolutely packed, showing how vital these links are. I have a couple of hours in Glasgow where I'm looking for a pub called The Old Horseshoe. It takes me a while to find it. It strikes me how much bigger Glasgow feels, how much more "big-city" it is than Edinburgh, like the contrast between York and Manchester. I have a look at Central station before finding the pub, and it is HUGE. Not only has it an enormous concourse, the sort of size that some of the London terminals are crying out for, but it even has platforms at two levels. I look forward to tackling the spider's web of lines in Strathclyde later this year. The pub is pretty good too, large but cosy at the same time, and with a large range of beers, some of them very cheap (£1.30!). I stay for a couple then head back to Queen Street. This time I take an indirect route via Cumbernauld and Falkirk Grahamston, where I change for a train coming from Stirling to Waverley. This is the low level route, Falkirk High being the high level route. I wonder if I should have filled in the gap between Perth, Stirling and Glasgow, but I've spent enough on fares this month!

On the way back I notice there is a guided busway linking Gyle and the Airport to the city. This use of busways really makes sense, because the main deterrent to using buses in urban areas is congestion. Hence the one in Cambridge will be a waste of time because its congestion problem is huge and having a bus running on the roads in the city but guided in the countryside is a nonsense! Eventually there will be a tram between the Airport and my next destination - Leith. Leith is where my hotel for the night is to be. I walk down Leith Walk to reach it, it's a longish walk and not always that nice a walk. I notice a railway bridge over the road has been removed and wonder where the railway went. Leith, as a port, had several lines and stations once, down to none now. In Irvine Walsh's Trainspotting, there is a scene in the then extant disused Leith Central station, where someone jokingly asks if the characters are doing some train spotting. This is actually the reason for the novel and film's title - though it doesn't appear in the film and makes the title a bit of a mystery!

My hotel is pleasant, overlooking a common. I don't fancy the walk back into town, though there are loads of buses, so I wander down to the docks to see what's there. It's had the Cardiff Bay treatment, there are cinemas, shopping centres, etc, as well as the final resting place of the Royal Yacht Britannia and countless bars and restaurants. I find one called The Old Dock Bar where I settle for the evening. I stumble back across a moonlit common to get a very welcome (and uninterrupted!) night's sleep.

Questing is pretty much done for this trip. I spend Sunday looking at museums, galleries, and after they close, doing a mini pub crawl along Rose Street. In the Museum of Scotland is a torn girder from the first Tay Bridge which is of interest. At 11pm I clamber on to the return sleeper. There are less people this time which gives us a more peaceful night. I sleep reasonably well though have to keep sitting up to stretch to avoid seizing up, but time passes quickly, and as if by magic I am delivered almost back to work by 7am.

Itinerary:

London Euston-Carlisle-Carstairs-Edinburgh
Edinburgh-Glenrothes-Kirkcaldy
Kirkcaldy-Dundee
Dundee-Perth
Perth-Kirkcaldy-Edinburgh
Edinburgh-Falkirk High-Glasgow Queen Street
Glasgow Queen Street-Falkirk Grahamston-Edinburgh

21-23 March 2008 - Edinburgh

Easter 2008 - a big occasion by "pointless quest" standards. Firstly, I complete my last bit of line in England. But more importantly, I make my first foray over the border into Scotland. It's been a long time coming and I'm really looking forward to it. This is not to be just a quest-related trip, but a sightseeing trip also, there being a lot to do in Edinburgh. On the spur of the moment in February I booked the tickets and a hotel for Easter, and on the morning of Good Friday, the day came.

Thanks to SE Trains' late-starting Sunday service on this day (just like last year!) I was pushing it to make the train but luckily there were no hold-ups. I got to King's Cross with about twenty minutes to spare. I noticed a non-stop charter to Edinburgh leaving just before my train. It was run by Eddie Stobart - a rake of Mk3 coaches in a blue Stobart livery were lined up waiting behind two similarly painted locos. I see a gaggle of spotters on the platform and this scene is to be repeated all along the East Coast.

The board announces that the 8.30 to Waverley is fully reserved and indeed the 225 train is rammed to bursting point when we move off. It's an uneventful journey until Newcastle for me as there's no new territory until then. We pass through a handful of stations beyond there and then we're into Northumberland. The line hugs the North Sea in a scene reminiscent of the Great Western - now a long way south from me. It's a spectacular view despite the changeable weather. The last English city that I have to visit by rail - Berwick-on-Tweed - looms up. It's not quite what I'm expecting, I knew it was a pretty stone town on the river Tweed with some spectacular bridges but I had no idea it was so close to the sea.

Berwick, being a border town, has swapped from England to Scotland a few times in its history, and the Scottish First Minister, Alex Salmond, is suggesting it return again at present. After passing the faintly dreary small station there we cross the border, one of the many trackside signs of the East Coast announcing the fact. We then speed through the Borders and into Lothian, stopping at the seaside town of Dunbar. I really feel as if I've arrived in Scotland now. The branch from North Berwick curves in from the right to join us and the signs of the city start to build around the line.

We head through the slightly odd Calton Tunnel - the mouths are staggered rather than next to each other - and Waverley looms. It's an amazing station. It's a sort of H-shaped layout, with through tracks on the long sides and terminating platforms on either side of the centre bar. Steps and ramps lead up to the streets on three sides. Taxis mingle with the trains in a way that used to be quite common but you hardly see now. I head for my hotel and settle in before deciding what to do on each of my three days here.

Given that it's nearly three and the major attractions will be closing in a couple of hours, I decide that today is the right day to visit the sight that doesn't close - the Forth Rail Bridge. Back down to Waverley. There are frequent trains across the bridge, it being the main link into Fife. I head out to Dalmeny on a three car class 171 DMU. When I bail out there I see the sight of the bridge just round the corner, the first span elongated into a bright red vertical - a strange sight. I follow the road down to its base - where a couple of Indian tourists ask me how to get to the bridge - so I'm not the only person to come all this way to see the thing! I follow the footpath down to South Queensferry and stand in the harbour to admire the rail and road bridges and get some photographs of them. I visit my first Scottish pub - The Ferry Tap - and sample a pint of Stewarts 80/- from an Edinburgh brewery which I will discover is a local perennial. Then it's off to the very base of the bridge supports to be dwarfed by the towering brick columns before the long climb back to the station. I've wanted to cross this bridge since I first learnt of its existence, but it was admittedly difficult to see much as we rushed through the cradle of ironwork. I gather there can be clouds forming amongst the girders, but sadly not today! On the other side - North Queensferry - there are yet more Indian tourists posing for photographs in its shadow. On this side the bridge weaves through the buildings and gardens, which is an interesting sight. I'm then back on the train, a three coach 171 and two coach 158 DMU coupled up and back to Waverley as the snow assails us.

With a few hours before the Ghost Walk I'm planning to do, I head out to get some chips then back for the three coach 171 to Newcraighall. At present this light forms part of the new Edinburgh Crossrail from Dunblane and Bathgate, opened recently to serve the out of town development and park and ride to the south east of the city. However within ten years it will continue all the way to Tweedbank, as a chunk of the famous Borders Line is rebuilt. This used to reach all the way out to Newcastle and Carlisle. By 1969 the lot had gone, leaving the Borders region with no railways, despite David Steel's best efforts to prevent the closure. Thirty years later and David Steel played a part in the new Scottish Parliament, one of the first acts of which was to introduce a Bill to rebuild the Borders Line. Preparatory work is underway and despite a few hiccups, the project is all go.

I return to the city and stay on until Haymarket this time, further to the west, and take a gentle wander back to the hotel. I get a fish supper and then head off to the Ghost Walk. It's a wee bit disappointing as these things tend to be, but is faintly entertaining in its way. Then I head to a pub that I found earlier in the day - The Half Way House - somehow nestling on a long flight of steps down to the station. It's a tiny place with a nice atmosphere and a good choice of beers. Some blokes come in and one talks to me, introducing himself by checking what team my shirt is from! It's actually just says CCCP! He turns out to be a Hearts fan who guesses that I am a Spurs fan - which he also is! The flowing drink prevents me from remembering why he is a Spurs and a Hearts fan, but the tale of how he got dirty looks at White Hart Lane is entertaining - wearing a claret shirt he was mistaken for a West Ham fan. I was sorry to have to leave but time was moving on and I didn't know for sure whether I was going to be locked out of my hotel.

On Saturday I head out to travel the North Berwick branch. This was electrified along with the East Coast Main Line in the late 80s, and so it's a three coach 321 EMU that takes us there, a train I'm used to seeing in London, though a third rail rather than overhead variety. It's a pleasant little town. Then I head back to Edinburgh for a day of sightseeing - the Dynamic Earth Museum, the Parliament, Holyrood Palace and Arthur's Seat, before picking up the last of this trip's lines - the branch out to Bathgate. This was originally a line all the way to Glasgow but was severed in 1965. By 2010 the missing link will be restored and electrified. There will be four lines linking the two cities - the sort of links we can only dream of in England! Originally I was planning to do this line after it had been rebuilt, but if I am to complete the quest by 40, I'll miss the target if I wait. I'll have to do the other end from Glasgow to Airdrie at a later date. For today, it's a two coach 158 DMU there and back. I return to Haymarket again and spend the evening in two pubs - Thomsons and The Blue Blazer - where again I get talking to people in this friendly city.

And that's essentially it for this trip as regards the quest. On Sunday I visit the extensive castle, walk up Calton Hill, and get one last one trip to my new local, the Half Way House. Then it's back on the train to London. For some reason it's a diesel 125 rather than a 225 EMU. It's not originated beyond Edinburgh so why it's a diesel I don't know. There were engineering diversions earlier, perhaps the 225s weren't all in the right places for the usual schedule. Anyway the fleet overhaul means it looks exactly like a 225 inside, and coupled with the boringly quiet MTU engine, this will keep the trains in service for at least another decade. I've had a fantastic time in Edinburgh, and returning home on my favourite train is a fitting end to the trip.

New Lines:

Newcastle-Edinburgh Waverley
Edinburgh Waverley - North Queensferry
Edinburgh Waverley - Newcraighall
Edinburgh Waverley - Bathgate