A strange contrast but all will become clear much later. A combination of the long Easter weekend and me needing to use up leave as I am working my notice meant that I had the perfect opportunity to start mopping up some more of the Scottish lines that I need to complete – now within the next 18 months! This would be a trip of surprises and firsts…
A late night on Tuesday was not a good idea as I had to be on the 5.47 to Glasgow on Wednesday but these things tend to happen that way. So having barely been to bed I went down to the bus stop in Penge High Street in the rain and darkness at around 4am to get the 176 to town. It arrived on time and delivered me to Tottenham Court Road about 45 minutes later. Then all I had to do was walk up the aforementioned road to Euston. Both roads were still quite busy I noticed. At 5am I joined the queue for the only source of coffee at the aberration that is London Euston and gratefully found my seat at the very front of the class 390 Pendolino that would take me far from home.
It was still dark when we headed out of the train shed which I wasn’t expecting. I tried to get some much needed sleep though it’s hard in modern train seats. I wanted to be awake for the section beyond Lancaster as I’ve not travelled that much and as it’s through the fringe of the Lake District it’s worth seeing. In the event I just about remember opening half an eye at Crewe and Preston, hearing Lancaster in my sleep and waking up as we curled into Carlisle. Actually I remember Lichfield as I saw the distinctive three spires of the cathedral distantly. Anyway I keep a look out after Carlisle as we quickly cross the border into Scotland, but unlike on the East Coast there’s no ceremony here. No sign announcing the boundary or mile posts, which is rather disappointing.
Gradually the stations start to get closer together and we drift into the conurbation of Strathclyde. Then we’re across the Clyde and pull into Glasgow Central, four hours and forty minutes after leaving London. I’ve the best part of a couple of hours to kill before the first of my Highland trains leave so I decide to have a go on the Glasgow Underground – the oldest in the world I believe? So I head for Buchanan Street station – which used to be a heavy rail station and is now the Underground stop for Glasgow Queen Street – which is handy as it’s where my train will leave from.
I see why the system is nicknamed the “Clockwork Orange” now. The trains and tunnels are like a scaled-down version of the tube in London, thankfully there are not London-sized crowds of people trying to get on them. I do the full circuit in around 30 minutes. Only one other person in the car is there when I get on and off again, and he’s swigging from a can of Tennants Extra in a brown paper bag. We pass some famous names – Ibrox, Partick, Kelvinside etc, some of which are on Strathclyde’s extensive heavy rail network also. Doing that will possibly be the most complex quest of all when it comes, as it combines city, countryside and seaside, in an area bigger than Greater London but as complex as the Yorkshire area with interconnections and branches everywhere. And they keep opening because the Scottish Parliament is rather more progressive about transport than the British one!
I grab a coffee at Queen Street and wait for the West Highland train. I didn’t realise until today that it’s a combined train for Mallaig and Oban that splits at Crianlarich. As I’m heading to the latter first I have to get into the front two coaches of the four coach 156 Sprinter. It’s fairly well booked out which is hardly surprising as the line has been voted the most scenic in the WORLD recently! Astonishing. I try to resist sleep but I am so tired. I manage to be awake by the time we reach the Highlands proper, but even heading out of the conurbation I spot that we are chugging alongside lochs already. Its unfortunate but the long and winding routes to the Highlands are now no competition for roads – I’m told that there are no more single track A roads left now – whereas the railways are almost entirely single track. So when you travel by rail Scotland feels a lot bigger than it is because it takes you so long to reach some of it! Undoubtedly the railway is the most scenic though as it skirts the lochs and travels through the base of the glens – sometimes you can’t see a road for miles from the train.
We’re first off from Crianlarich after splitting and after enjoying a landscape of snow-capped mountains – a real treat – I am delivered to Oban, a fishing village. I have a couple of hours there in which I get the chance to explore a folly perched up on the hill above the town. It looks like the Coliseum and was designed to house a theatre but was never completed. It gives a great view over the harbour today where you can see the many ferries heading out to the Isles. After a fish supper – with beautiful local haddock – I’m off again to Crianlarich. With a thrill I see a row of stags watching the train go past – it’s a bit more sobering when you remember that they were only introduced for the gentry to go hunting, but still they are an impressive sight.
At Crianlarich I make for the youth hostel – my first stay in one. After doing TA selection and staying in barracks with 30 strangers a youth hostel seems nae problem. Except there’s none of the camaraderie, it’s just six disparate blokes looking for a bed for the night. It doesn’t help that there’s just one light which is off when I get back from the pub at around 11, so I have to undress and find my way to the top bunk in the dark. Oh well, it’s all an experience. I sleep surprisingly well and am up out and out by 8.15. The station has a nice little café where I have a protracted breakfast. It’s just as well I get there early as the place fills up fast with people from the hostel. I watch the first train down to Glasgow that delivers a Scotrail worker and his dog. I presume he’s the driver waiting for the up train to take whichever half doesn’t have one yet on. When the train arrives and splits though, it transpires he is the conductor. And this is where the surprises start.
When I get on I hear another Scotrail employee explaining to the couple behind me that our train is being driven by the youngest driver Scotrail has ever employed – she is 24 – and the first female driver on the West Highland line. The conductor with the dog jokes that I’ll have to put up with this talk all the way to Mallaig. I tell him it’s actually interesting to me as I start driver training with Southern next month. At this I’m invited into the back cab to have a quick look around, given a cup of tea etc etc. It’s great to be given a sneak preview of the controls and have the token exchange system explained to me – not that I will be using that in the busy south! We chat all the way to Mallaig about stuff. It transpires that he is an ex-army, motorbike riding rail enthusiast, so we have a bit to talk about. Later he gives me a lift back to Fort William. An amazing surprise. It was great to meet someone so generous and unassuming – it just wouldn’t happen down south. He was from Liverpool and absolutely loved living up there. Though I’m not certain I could live in such a place myself I understand his affection for the place.
I’ve a couple of hours in Fort William so I have a walk around, go up into the lower reaches of the hills that surround the place, and find a really nice pub, famous for its ales. I enjoy a couple of pints there and head for the station (rather annoyingly now cut off from the town by a busy road), getting a haggis and chips en route. I want to finish it before getting on the train so manage to burn my mouth on the haggis, which I suppose is as good a Caledonian experience as any to go home with.
At this point the sleeper is two sleeper cars, a buffet car and a luggage van, hauled by a class 67 diesel. Two similar trains leave Aberdeen and Inverness each night, all three meeting at Edinburgh where they are shunted into a different order and then hauled by a single class 90 electric back to London via the Carstairs line. I am shown to my cabin – I’ve got it to myself which means I can spread my stuff around, but I wouldn’t have been that bothered about sharing. I take the top bunk and read for a bit until we set off, then go to the lounge car for some tea. I don’t like the ordering arrangements – there is no hatch, you wait for the staff to come to you. The whole system seems designed to stop you dwelling because there is no easy way of placing more than one order!
Like the Penzance sleeper, this is very much a last train for locals as well as for long distance travellers, as it stops almost everywhere back to Glasgow, sometimes on request. This is good as it gives the line a fourth train and allows a slightly longer day at Fort William if needed. So it takes ages to get to Edinburgh. By ten I’m drifting off anyway so I return to my cabin and read for a bit, drifting off to sleep. I get into bed and don’t wake again until we stop at Edinburgh. I hear the shunter talking to the driver and remember I’ll be heading into this world soon, a strange thought. Amazingly the jolting of the train being shunted does not really disturb my sleep and the next time I wake and look out we’re at Preston – about four in the morning. The first time I went on a sleeper it was hard to sleep properly but it’s amazing how quickly you adapt. The motion of the train is very conducive to dozing off, as anyone who has slept through their stop can tell you.
I wake at Stafford briefly then return to sleep. At seven the alarm goes off and I get up and get ready. Breakfast comes about fifteen minutes later; it’s a strange mixture – a mini muffin, a small croissant and an odd muesli and gluey yoghurt combination plus coffee and shortbread. Not the most balanced meal I’ve had but my diet is shite at the moment anyway. I see a sign on a building telling me that we are near Rugby but I don’t know if we’ve passed the station yet. Either way it appears that there has been a huge delay as even after the West Coast refurb, trains can’t get from Rugby to London in the half hour left. We come to a halt. The train doesn’t move for ages and no others pass us. Bearing in mind that this is the busiest of the UK’s main lines, this means that something is seriously awry. I look out of the window and all the signals are at red. There are no announcements as usual so I check my Blackberry. There’s enough charge to find out that there has been a fatality at Wolverton and Euston is closed with nothing moving. I think of the driver for obvious reasons and hope that they don’t terminate us early and put us on buses.
About two hours pass, I’m grateful for the cabin as I can relax on the bunk and read. In fact this is the most relaxation I’ve had for ages I realise. I’m quite enjoying it! We eventually get going and I hang out of the windows to read the signals, we go very slowly past some single ambers, then I recognise a junction indicator, we get a green and we’re off at full speed until London.
It’s nearly three hours late and I don’t really feel like going home yet, having had plenty of rest. I decide to do some more bashing and head for Marylebone to do the new Aylesbury Parkway station – a bit of reopened line! However there are buses on part of the route so I forget that and decide to do the DLR extension to Woolwich Arsenal instead. It’s the only bit of London’s transport that I’ve not travelled on. It opened to George V Dock a couple of years ago but I knew it would be going through to Woolwich a couple of years later so I held off – travelling through the Docklands is not THAT exciting(!) What is interesting is that it took over the North London Line from Canning Town to North Woolwich and then continued south of the river to Woolwich proper. So there is another first for this trip – travelling under the newest Thames tunnel! There is more to come in London in terms of lines to travel – the DLR is taking over the North London Line from Canning Town to Stratford and beyond to the International Station where it will meet the SE Trains High Speed services to St Pancras. A start is being made on Crossrail. But first there will be the East London Line, close to my own home, which will see trains running from Croydon and Crystal Palace through to Highbury and Islington via a re-opened line between Broad Street and Dalston.
Home is reached at around 4.30pm. It feels like a long time since I’ve been there.
Lines covered this trip:
Glasgow Queen Street-Singer-Oban
Oban-Crianlarich-Mallaig
Glasgow Underground
Thursday, 16 April 2009
Sunday, 1 March 2009
Tyne and Wear Metro 1 March 2009
I'm in Newcastle to see the Kaiser Chiefs. It's a good excuse to visit the city and to travel the Tyne and Wear Metro. I've not written about my light rail trips as they don’t seem like the real thing to me. The T&W was converted from existing heavy rail, runs on proper tracks with proper stations, rather than on the road, and was extended to join up on both sides of the city, so it feels like a proper railway to me. The other systems I’ve been on so far are:
London Underground
DLR
Croydon Tramlink
West Midlands Metro
I’ve also travelled parts of the Manchester, Sheffield and Nottingham systems in the course of getting around but intend to go back and do them fully at some point. I also want to cover the Glasgow Underground – the Clockwork Orange as it is known. But for the moment I’m at a cold Newcastle Central station trying to find breakfast after a terrible night in a cheap hotel. I buy an all day ticket and I’m off.
First leg is out to Newcastle Airport to the North West of the city via the suburb of Jesmond. This has two interchanges at Monument – on a separate level – and South Gosforth – a straightforward spur – which are both ends of a loop out to the coast at Whitely Bay.
At the Airport there is a longish wait for the train to turn back before it returns back the way it came. I discover that the driver’s cab only takes up one of the two windows at the front of the unit. Not great for the driver, where my sympathies are now starting to lean, but great for the passenger who can get a decent driver’s eye of the track. Out in the rural areas of the system this is okay but in the suburbs and centre this gives you a full view of the same sad vandalism that makes Britain so tatty these days. The front seat gives you a fantastic vista of the Tyne as we cross over the QE2 bridge and into Gateshead.
From here the line runs parallel to the heavy rail line to Sunderland, presumably the metro having taken over the intermediate stations that the heavy rail line now speeds past. At Pelaw there is a grade separated junction where one branch goes to South Shields, which I’ll come back to. For now the line continues over the Wear and into the murky depths of Sunderland station before running along the south bank of the Wear to a terminus at South Hylton. Ahead you can see where the line used to continue to Durham – it’s now a footpath. This is the furthest most extension of the system and I gather not as successful as was hoped so far, but I’m just pleased that another railway has been reinstated in this way.
I head back to Pelaw and change trains for South Shields. My intention is then to catch the ferry across to North Shields. I assumed that the railway went right up to the river front but not so – maybe it did in the past? Anyway a short walk through the ubiquitous paved shopping area takes me to a waiting room for the ferry – very welcome in the cold and wet weather today. It’s a short trip across the Tyne to North Shields. This is slightly more pleasant than its South counterpart despite the steep climb up to the station – where presumably a train could never have got.
North Shields is a through station rather than a terminus, at the edge of the loop mentioned earlier from Monument to South Gosforth. The first train to come is heading back towards Newcastle and I catch this. At Monument in the city centre it continues out to St James Park Stadium, they’re away this week so the place is deserted. I ask the driver where the train is going now and luckily it’s doing the whole loop so I don’t need to change again.
We head off about ten minutes later and head back towards North Shields, passing some famous but very down at heel places such as Byker and Wallsend. After North Shields the line turns north and heads up the coast to Whitely Bay, then turns west and back towards the city, joining the line into Central at South Gosforth. I continue to Central where my journey ends.
London Underground
DLR
Croydon Tramlink
West Midlands Metro
I’ve also travelled parts of the Manchester, Sheffield and Nottingham systems in the course of getting around but intend to go back and do them fully at some point. I also want to cover the Glasgow Underground – the Clockwork Orange as it is known. But for the moment I’m at a cold Newcastle Central station trying to find breakfast after a terrible night in a cheap hotel. I buy an all day ticket and I’m off.
First leg is out to Newcastle Airport to the North West of the city via the suburb of Jesmond. This has two interchanges at Monument – on a separate level – and South Gosforth – a straightforward spur – which are both ends of a loop out to the coast at Whitely Bay.
At the Airport there is a longish wait for the train to turn back before it returns back the way it came. I discover that the driver’s cab only takes up one of the two windows at the front of the unit. Not great for the driver, where my sympathies are now starting to lean, but great for the passenger who can get a decent driver’s eye of the track. Out in the rural areas of the system this is okay but in the suburbs and centre this gives you a full view of the same sad vandalism that makes Britain so tatty these days. The front seat gives you a fantastic vista of the Tyne as we cross over the QE2 bridge and into Gateshead.
From here the line runs parallel to the heavy rail line to Sunderland, presumably the metro having taken over the intermediate stations that the heavy rail line now speeds past. At Pelaw there is a grade separated junction where one branch goes to South Shields, which I’ll come back to. For now the line continues over the Wear and into the murky depths of Sunderland station before running along the south bank of the Wear to a terminus at South Hylton. Ahead you can see where the line used to continue to Durham – it’s now a footpath. This is the furthest most extension of the system and I gather not as successful as was hoped so far, but I’m just pleased that another railway has been reinstated in this way.
I head back to Pelaw and change trains for South Shields. My intention is then to catch the ferry across to North Shields. I assumed that the railway went right up to the river front but not so – maybe it did in the past? Anyway a short walk through the ubiquitous paved shopping area takes me to a waiting room for the ferry – very welcome in the cold and wet weather today. It’s a short trip across the Tyne to North Shields. This is slightly more pleasant than its South counterpart despite the steep climb up to the station – where presumably a train could never have got.
North Shields is a through station rather than a terminus, at the edge of the loop mentioned earlier from Monument to South Gosforth. The first train to come is heading back towards Newcastle and I catch this. At Monument in the city centre it continues out to St James Park Stadium, they’re away this week so the place is deserted. I ask the driver where the train is going now and luckily it’s doing the whole loop so I don’t need to change again.
We head off about ten minutes later and head back towards North Shields, passing some famous but very down at heel places such as Byker and Wallsend. After North Shields the line turns north and heads up the coast to Whitely Bay, then turns west and back towards the city, joining the line into Central at South Gosforth. I continue to Central where my journey ends.
Saturday, 5 July 2008
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
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
Monday, 21 April 2008
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
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
Monday, 24 March 2008
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
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
Monday, 15 October 2007
Mopping up no.3 - 13 October 2007
Two lines left in the north of England are my targets for today, one of which has a low frequency service (Habrough to Barton on Humber) and one has an almost non-existent service (Knottingley to Goole). They've both eluded me on previous trips where it was just impossible to squeeze them in, so the time has come. This one was going to be a long day, rising at 4.30am and getting home at 11.30pm, and I wasn't too well in the week, so could do with a rest. But, the tickets have been bought now, so I have to grin and bear it. Being up that early had an unexpected benefit. The planet Venus was at that time of the morning hanging huge and bright in the sky, more luminous than I've ever seen it before. It seemed to follow me up the road to the station and I could see why it's been reported as a UFO. There were a surprisingly large number of people on the first train out of New Beckenham. Some of them were destined to be disgruntled that morning as at Ladywell a points failure was announced and we were routed up the Lewisham avoiding line, which meant going fast to London Bridge and missing three stations.
I scramble on to the second GNER out, the 7.00 to Edinburgh. Today the 225 train is being diverted due to engineering works, and this may be something to do with the extra stops it makes. This is to my favour today because it means I can get to my first destination, Cleethorpes, about 2 hours earlier than usual, which gives me plenty of recovery time later in the day. I get out at Retford which is one of the extra stops today. Retford is a junction for two lines that cross but are not connected, the platforms being at two levels. In days of yore it would have been called High Level and Low Level but this seems to be too clunky for the modern streamlined world. A year ago I'd wondered if I'd ever get to the Low Level, having soared over the High Level track so many times - and now I'm changing trains there on this mild but very foggy Autumn day. It's quite a walk from one level to the other, and it takes most of the connecting time to do it. It's not long before the single coach Sprinter creaks round the bend. The guard greets the handful of us getting on - back in the friendly North! - and we set off across the vaguely eerie Lincolnshire flats. Ironically I'm now covering the rarely served line from Gainsborough Central to Barnetby again, which gave me so much trouble earlier in the year (see Lincolnshire!) including a tiny new stretch connecting Retford to Gainsborough Central. At Barnetby there are DOZENS of spotters, surely expecting something more interesting than the Sprinters and 185s passing by. It's refreshing to see many of them are teenagers (and tracksuited ones at that) but I can't imagine it's worth sprinting up the platform with a camcorder to shoot our train. Each to their own.
We then head through an empty Grimsby Town station, another train presumably having called just before us, and then I’m into new territory. The line snakes through the sprawl of the docks, today silent as we go fast through the docks halt. In no time at all we’re pulling into the terminus at Cleethorpes. The two towns seem to pretty much run into one another, something I was not expecting. I’m told by a local that Grimbsyites that do well for themselves generally move to Cleethorpes. And I can see why. The fog that is totally obscuring the sea beyond the end of the pier does not help to disguise the fact that the place has its share of seaside tat. But away from this, there are pleasant little coffee shops and second-hand shops. There are decent looking pubs and trendy bars. There are unexpected sights too. Or sounds. I hear a clip clop ahead of me and a line of people on horseback suddenly emerge from a side street - clearly some sort of riding school but it's a rare sight in such an urban environment. And they are going past a corner shop, the windows of which are rammed with salvaged equipment from the Air Force, totally obscuring the interior of the shop. There are cameras watching every inch of the shop front, so I suspect the shop may have something to do with weapons.
I expect I'll come back to the place someday in better weather hopefully, but for the moment the rest of the day's travels await. I approach the station from a different angle and notice it's quite a large building with a clock tower, as well as an inviting-looking pub on the platform. Sadly I must pass on this. The place looks like a Class 153 Gala Day with the one I got off still humming gently and a newly arrived one ready to take me to Barton On Humber. At first the other passengers are no problem, chiefly comprising older people talking about the service on the line - I think they may be from the local line users group. By the time we arrive at New Holland the thing is full of youths who are not quite as bad as the ones on C2C but could certainly give them a run for their money. I'm really sick of them always appearing and turn my I-Pod up full. Thankfully there's not many going into Grimsby on the way back, and it's a peaceful journey back. It's just the stretch between Habrough and Barton that I've not done and the landscape is not unexpected - marshlands! Sadly the view from the south of the Humber Bridge that I have this week is spoiled by the fog and there is little else to see. I contemplate changing at Habrough but it's a long wait and I can see just one faintly unwelcoming hostelry from the train that I already know is the only one there. So I continue to "Great Grimsby" and go to the Wetherspoons that I visited before. It's very full and the food I order takes ages. I'm on the verge of cancelling when it arrives and I foolishly gulp it down.
Next I'm heading back to Doncaster on a three coach 185, a route I've covered before, which affords me the chance to get some sleep, though not before I see a fish shop on the other side of the station's level crossing, which would have been a far better choice for lunch. I wake up when Scunthorpe is announced. Sights of interest include a cement works with piles of raw materials so white they almost dazzle as well as a vast yard of rusting weed-infested tracks, showing that there was significant activity here once. Wonder how long before it's housing?
At Doncaster I am determined to see something other than the station for a change and head out to a pub that has a good write up - The Leopard. This boasts that it can be reached without crossing roads which is significant in the context of the station. Outside the pedestrian is greeted with a road tunnel on one side and no pavement on the other, though there is a direct passage into the Frenchgate shopping centre - great! The Leopard is a live music venue of some repute too and in those one of those coincidences that life throws up I discover the next day that my brother has taken a tour there a few times. I have a pint of something with a daft name from the Glentworth Brewery which is very pleasant and it's good to know that there is life at this most important of railway sites for the future!
Next I'm on another GNER 225 to Leeds. It's rammed. Are there any empty trains left? It's a good thing that demand for rail is high but it's a shame we don't respond to it as we try to in...well, every other sphere of economic life. I realise that I've also not been to many pubs in Leeds so today is the day to put that right. The Scarbrough Hotel (note spelling) is apparently the Leeds CAMRA's pub of the year. I've passed it many a time and not known it was a pub! Inside it's packed, and has been refurbished in a modern style, but retains a large range of beers. Problem is, I'm now so tired that I can't enjoy it at all, especially as it's the second pub I've had to stand in that day, and I really just want to go home! However there's some way to go before the day is over. I leave earlier than intended and have one of the guest beers in the station Wetherspoons instead, watching the tail end of the England-Estonia Euro 2008 qualifier. We win and I head over to get on the packed Pacer which will take me to Goole over the little used route through Knottingley.
Much of this is familiar territory to me, though I have never seen the station at Glasshoughton before, as this opened after my last visit to this line in 2005. To my annoyance it serves an enormous out of town shopping and leisure complex rather than a settlement, and though it's good that it's connected to the network, I can't be the only one who doesn't see these ghastly places as a sign of progress? At Knottingley, nearly everyone gets out and I see a bus marked "Railway Replacement Service." Do they know something I don't? Surely not...I'm so close to finally crossing this line off. To my relief the train roars into life again. With a combination of dozing and the fading light, I don't see much of the ride, not even when we cross the East Coast main line. A few people do get on at the intermediate stations heading for Goole.
Goole used to be a relatively important port on the Humber, and had numerous freight lines connecting it to the rest of the network in the North of England, as well as a direct passenger link to Selby. Now it is chiefly served by Hull to Sheffield trains. The island-style canopy on platform 1 betrays that it had certainly had more platforms in the past. It also has a curious feature - subways on either side of the road for pedestrians to cross the level crossing - usually this is a footbridge if anything. I'm still sleepy and decide I need chips in curry sauce to wake me up rather than another drink. If anyone can explain my reasoning I'd be grateful. Anyway I find a Chinese Takeaway chippy and go in after a struggle with the door. None of the friers are going and the reaction to my order for chips makes me think I've done something wrong. I don't like to ask for the curry sauce too. I settle on a tiny sofa next to another customer and comment on the lack of chip frying apparently going on. He assures me this is the best place for miles around. We have a brief chat. He's a fence erector who lives in a village about ten miles away and is surprised that I've bothered to go to Goole. I just say rather mysteriously that it's a long story, not everyone would understand the quest. I certainly understand his reaction - it would be like something going to London and visiting Penge. I say my farewells as the chips arrive and head for the intriguingly named City and County, Goole's very own Wetherspoons. I start on a pint of John Smiths before realising I have about 7 minutes to drink it. Why can't I just leave them in these situations?
A pint heavier I head back to the station to await the train as Goole's twenty-somethings head for the nightlife of Doncaster, none of them realising that it's a two coach 158 they're travelling on. At Doncaster I can't face a trip to the other pub I was going to visit and get a coffee instead and just sit in the cool night air for an hour and watch the sights. This includes a group of southern football fans being bollocked by the British Transport Police, a man told off for smoking and several trains passing in and out. I listen to the announcements and marvel at how many of these routes I now have under my belt. My train is late but I'm not worried, it's been nice collecting my thoughts and sobering up a bit.
I've booked first class on the 225 back to London for a bit of peace which I certainly get, the coach being pretty empty until a pair of tossers get on at Stevenage and start arguing. A wobbly bloke keeps coming out of second class and returning with cans of cider from his mates in first class, explaining to any member of staff that it's all right, he has a first class ticket, but he's downgraded and is just going to see his friends. He's clearly thought it all through. I decide not to take any of the crockery or antimacassars as souvenirs as we head towards the capital. The conductor announces that we have beaten France 14-9 in the Rugby World Cup semi-final as I realise that this really could be my last trip on GNER...
Itineary:
London King's Cross-Retford
Retford-Gainsborough-Cleethorpes
Cleethorpes-Barton-upon-Humber (new)
Barton-upon-Humber-Grimbsy Town
Grimsby Town-Doncaster
Doncaster-Leeds
Leeds-Knottingley-Goole (K-G new)
Goole-Doncaster
Doncaster-London King's Cross
I scramble on to the second GNER out, the 7.00 to Edinburgh. Today the 225 train is being diverted due to engineering works, and this may be something to do with the extra stops it makes. This is to my favour today because it means I can get to my first destination, Cleethorpes, about 2 hours earlier than usual, which gives me plenty of recovery time later in the day. I get out at Retford which is one of the extra stops today. Retford is a junction for two lines that cross but are not connected, the platforms being at two levels. In days of yore it would have been called High Level and Low Level but this seems to be too clunky for the modern streamlined world. A year ago I'd wondered if I'd ever get to the Low Level, having soared over the High Level track so many times - and now I'm changing trains there on this mild but very foggy Autumn day. It's quite a walk from one level to the other, and it takes most of the connecting time to do it. It's not long before the single coach Sprinter creaks round the bend. The guard greets the handful of us getting on - back in the friendly North! - and we set off across the vaguely eerie Lincolnshire flats. Ironically I'm now covering the rarely served line from Gainsborough Central to Barnetby again, which gave me so much trouble earlier in the year (see Lincolnshire!) including a tiny new stretch connecting Retford to Gainsborough Central. At Barnetby there are DOZENS of spotters, surely expecting something more interesting than the Sprinters and 185s passing by. It's refreshing to see many of them are teenagers (and tracksuited ones at that) but I can't imagine it's worth sprinting up the platform with a camcorder to shoot our train. Each to their own.
We then head through an empty Grimsby Town station, another train presumably having called just before us, and then I’m into new territory. The line snakes through the sprawl of the docks, today silent as we go fast through the docks halt. In no time at all we’re pulling into the terminus at Cleethorpes. The two towns seem to pretty much run into one another, something I was not expecting. I’m told by a local that Grimbsyites that do well for themselves generally move to Cleethorpes. And I can see why. The fog that is totally obscuring the sea beyond the end of the pier does not help to disguise the fact that the place has its share of seaside tat. But away from this, there are pleasant little coffee shops and second-hand shops. There are decent looking pubs and trendy bars. There are unexpected sights too. Or sounds. I hear a clip clop ahead of me and a line of people on horseback suddenly emerge from a side street - clearly some sort of riding school but it's a rare sight in such an urban environment. And they are going past a corner shop, the windows of which are rammed with salvaged equipment from the Air Force, totally obscuring the interior of the shop. There are cameras watching every inch of the shop front, so I suspect the shop may have something to do with weapons.
I expect I'll come back to the place someday in better weather hopefully, but for the moment the rest of the day's travels await. I approach the station from a different angle and notice it's quite a large building with a clock tower, as well as an inviting-looking pub on the platform. Sadly I must pass on this. The place looks like a Class 153 Gala Day with the one I got off still humming gently and a newly arrived one ready to take me to Barton On Humber. At first the other passengers are no problem, chiefly comprising older people talking about the service on the line - I think they may be from the local line users group. By the time we arrive at New Holland the thing is full of youths who are not quite as bad as the ones on C2C but could certainly give them a run for their money. I'm really sick of them always appearing and turn my I-Pod up full. Thankfully there's not many going into Grimsby on the way back, and it's a peaceful journey back. It's just the stretch between Habrough and Barton that I've not done and the landscape is not unexpected - marshlands! Sadly the view from the south of the Humber Bridge that I have this week is spoiled by the fog and there is little else to see. I contemplate changing at Habrough but it's a long wait and I can see just one faintly unwelcoming hostelry from the train that I already know is the only one there. So I continue to "Great Grimsby" and go to the Wetherspoons that I visited before. It's very full and the food I order takes ages. I'm on the verge of cancelling when it arrives and I foolishly gulp it down.
Next I'm heading back to Doncaster on a three coach 185, a route I've covered before, which affords me the chance to get some sleep, though not before I see a fish shop on the other side of the station's level crossing, which would have been a far better choice for lunch. I wake up when Scunthorpe is announced. Sights of interest include a cement works with piles of raw materials so white they almost dazzle as well as a vast yard of rusting weed-infested tracks, showing that there was significant activity here once. Wonder how long before it's housing?
At Doncaster I am determined to see something other than the station for a change and head out to a pub that has a good write up - The Leopard. This boasts that it can be reached without crossing roads which is significant in the context of the station. Outside the pedestrian is greeted with a road tunnel on one side and no pavement on the other, though there is a direct passage into the Frenchgate shopping centre - great! The Leopard is a live music venue of some repute too and in those one of those coincidences that life throws up I discover the next day that my brother has taken a tour there a few times. I have a pint of something with a daft name from the Glentworth Brewery which is very pleasant and it's good to know that there is life at this most important of railway sites for the future!
Next I'm on another GNER 225 to Leeds. It's rammed. Are there any empty trains left? It's a good thing that demand for rail is high but it's a shame we don't respond to it as we try to in...well, every other sphere of economic life. I realise that I've also not been to many pubs in Leeds so today is the day to put that right. The Scarbrough Hotel (note spelling) is apparently the Leeds CAMRA's pub of the year. I've passed it many a time and not known it was a pub! Inside it's packed, and has been refurbished in a modern style, but retains a large range of beers. Problem is, I'm now so tired that I can't enjoy it at all, especially as it's the second pub I've had to stand in that day, and I really just want to go home! However there's some way to go before the day is over. I leave earlier than intended and have one of the guest beers in the station Wetherspoons instead, watching the tail end of the England-Estonia Euro 2008 qualifier. We win and I head over to get on the packed Pacer which will take me to Goole over the little used route through Knottingley.
Much of this is familiar territory to me, though I have never seen the station at Glasshoughton before, as this opened after my last visit to this line in 2005. To my annoyance it serves an enormous out of town shopping and leisure complex rather than a settlement, and though it's good that it's connected to the network, I can't be the only one who doesn't see these ghastly places as a sign of progress? At Knottingley, nearly everyone gets out and I see a bus marked "Railway Replacement Service." Do they know something I don't? Surely not...I'm so close to finally crossing this line off. To my relief the train roars into life again. With a combination of dozing and the fading light, I don't see much of the ride, not even when we cross the East Coast main line. A few people do get on at the intermediate stations heading for Goole.
Goole used to be a relatively important port on the Humber, and had numerous freight lines connecting it to the rest of the network in the North of England, as well as a direct passenger link to Selby. Now it is chiefly served by Hull to Sheffield trains. The island-style canopy on platform 1 betrays that it had certainly had more platforms in the past. It also has a curious feature - subways on either side of the road for pedestrians to cross the level crossing - usually this is a footbridge if anything. I'm still sleepy and decide I need chips in curry sauce to wake me up rather than another drink. If anyone can explain my reasoning I'd be grateful. Anyway I find a Chinese Takeaway chippy and go in after a struggle with the door. None of the friers are going and the reaction to my order for chips makes me think I've done something wrong. I don't like to ask for the curry sauce too. I settle on a tiny sofa next to another customer and comment on the lack of chip frying apparently going on. He assures me this is the best place for miles around. We have a brief chat. He's a fence erector who lives in a village about ten miles away and is surprised that I've bothered to go to Goole. I just say rather mysteriously that it's a long story, not everyone would understand the quest. I certainly understand his reaction - it would be like something going to London and visiting Penge. I say my farewells as the chips arrive and head for the intriguingly named City and County, Goole's very own Wetherspoons. I start on a pint of John Smiths before realising I have about 7 minutes to drink it. Why can't I just leave them in these situations?
A pint heavier I head back to the station to await the train as Goole's twenty-somethings head for the nightlife of Doncaster, none of them realising that it's a two coach 158 they're travelling on. At Doncaster I can't face a trip to the other pub I was going to visit and get a coffee instead and just sit in the cool night air for an hour and watch the sights. This includes a group of southern football fans being bollocked by the British Transport Police, a man told off for smoking and several trains passing in and out. I listen to the announcements and marvel at how many of these routes I now have under my belt. My train is late but I'm not worried, it's been nice collecting my thoughts and sobering up a bit.
I've booked first class on the 225 back to London for a bit of peace which I certainly get, the coach being pretty empty until a pair of tossers get on at Stevenage and start arguing. A wobbly bloke keeps coming out of second class and returning with cans of cider from his mates in first class, explaining to any member of staff that it's all right, he has a first class ticket, but he's downgraded and is just going to see his friends. He's clearly thought it all through. I decide not to take any of the crockery or antimacassars as souvenirs as we head towards the capital. The conductor announces that we have beaten France 14-9 in the Rugby World Cup semi-final as I realise that this really could be my last trip on GNER...
Itineary:
London King's Cross-Retford
Retford-Gainsborough-Cleethorpes
Cleethorpes-Barton-upon-Humber (new)
Barton-upon-Humber-Grimbsy Town
Grimsby Town-Doncaster
Doncaster-Leeds
Leeds-Knottingley-Goole (K-G new)
Goole-Doncaster
Doncaster-London King's Cross
Sunday, 7 October 2007
7 October 2007: London-Hull-Scarborough-York
I've been saving this one up. It's a straightforward bash, forming a giant Yorkshire loop, so it's a sort of reward for doing some of the more difficult ones first. It's also easy to do within a day and have a bit of a look round some of the stops, so it almost feels like a proper day out! An added bonus is that it's not an early start for a change. The first line of the day is to Hull via Selby, and the easiest way to do this is to use a Hull Trains service. The first of these doesn't leave London until 9.30, so I'm pretty much up at my normal time for work. I head into town and decide to find a cafe near Kings Cross to await the train rather than use the appalling facilities at the station. See my earlier rants on railway catering!
Hull Trains is one of the (rare?) success stories of privatisation. BR tended to concentrate their direct London services on the most lucrative established routes, ie, York, Leeds, Manchester, Birmingham etc, so cities off the main lines tended to have scant direct services, Hull being an obvious one. Privatisation has of course massively increased services on the main routes, these being increasingly remunerative, but has allowed niche markets to be exploited also. Open access operators apply to run services on routes they have chosen, rather than bidding for a franchise that compels them to provide a minimum level of service on all routes that form part of it. Hull Trains is such an operator running just between London and Hull and giving other East Yorkshire stops a link to London. Launched in 2000 with 3 trains a day, it now runs 7 with plans for more, using its own Pioneer trains similar to the Virgin Voyagers and Midland Meridians. Other open access operators are gradually coming into being. Grand Central is about to start running direct to Hartlepool and Sunderland, with stops in North Yorkshire largely ignored by GNER. They also want to run to Halifax, Huddersfield and Bradford. Most recently Shropshire and Warwickshire is launching in 2008 and will provide Wrexham and Shrewsbury with London trains again.
So at 9.34 the Hull Trains Pioneer sets off. The layout is better than I remember from the Meridians and much better than the Voyagers. The upholstery, whilst modern, has an old-fashioned look about it that really works - reminds me of original Mk1 carriages on preserved railways! The train is fairly full but I have a peaceful journey and am able to do a bit of reading, though I look up after Peterborough just in time to see a sign marking the spot where the Mallard broke the world steam record on Stoke Bank which still stands at 138mph. How did I miss this before? We go fast to Grantham, and after Doncaster leave the electrified line and head into Selby. Until the 1980s, this was still part of the main line. Due to the discovery of the "super pit" in the Selby area, mining activities were to increase there and this presented stability risks to the line. Hence the lines was diverted between Doncaster and York, and Selby came off the main line and on to a branch. Though the pit was inevitably closed, evidence of the coalfields is still all around us, this being almost a power station belt, the smoke winding up like mini-tornadoes into the grey clouds above. Arrival at Selby ticks off this stretch that I have never travelled before.
I've already travelled along here as far as Brough, so beyond here it's new territory. We cross the marshy flatlands that tend to characterise England's eastern edge, the wide plain of the Humber coming into view at last. We could almost be in south Essex or north Kent and this could be the Thames. There's even a suspension bridge like the QE2 - but the Humber bridge got there first! I'd wanted to see this ever since I heard about its opening from a teacher who knew I was into such oddities, and it doesn't disappoint. In the future I hope to walk across it. It might have been nice to come back by ferry but that's been gone for over 25 years - ie when the bridge opened! Before long we're pulling into Hull.
Hull Paragon is a proper city station, with a great wide arched roof and a spacious concourse. It is currently being transformed into a transport interchange, the bus station bays being part of the north side of the station, a great idea - EXACTLY what was needed at London Victoria instead of the mess we have there now. Shame the new shelter being added at the front is totally out of sympathy with the ornate Victorian station. Hull, like many cities, appears to be receiving a face lift, ie, new shopping centres. I find my way to a pub that I've looked up - The Wellington Arms. It's amazing! Despite being almost next to a horrible ring road, and amongst grilled windows and barbed wire, signs proclaim its pub of the year status. I cautiously go inside. It has a string of ales and ciders on as well as the favourites. It actually boasts a giant shelved cool area at the back of the bar, with glass sides so that you can see what they have, which is packed with bottled beers from all sorts of places. A shelf running around the wall brims with empty bottles of a dazzling variety. The wall space is covered with beer mats. There are copies of local CAMRA newsletters from various parts of the UK. I've never seen anything like it!
Regrettably I've time for just one before heading back via a bakery (love Northern bakeries!) to the waiting 2 coach 158 that will take me to Scarborough. This has been refurbished with nice deep seats - dare I say, almost as good as the old trains! This line spurs off from the main line and heads north. The running is very slow almost as far as Beverley. I'm guessing that the track has recently been relaid. Beverley has a lovely atmospheric station with an overall roof - very rare now - which suits the ambiance of the town as I've heard about it. I snatch a look at the Minster - somewhere I will visit in the future. Then we wind through the countryside to our first coastal stop - Bridlington, one of the famous names along this coast. It has an interesting station with through and terminus platforms. As we leave I see the sea for the first time, a newly emerging sun lighting white cliffs.
After another famous name - Filey - we join the line from York and pull into the most famous name of all along here - Scarborough. The line used to continue along the coast through to Whitby, Saltburn and Middlesbrough in happier times, a sadly missed link. After crossing the road I am plunged into the shopping centre crowds, and nip down a side street to avoid them. I reach the cliff top and take a path down to the front. It reminds me of a much bigger Whitby, with a harbour, a church and castle dominating the cliffs, and a gaggle of pleasant buildings along the foreshore. I am heading for a Sam Smith's pub overlooking the harbour, The Golden Ball. Sadly it's a disappointment - three bars, one closed, one full and the remaining one like an empty common room. I then grab some haddock and chips next door and walk up to the castle walls and look over the North Bay before heading down to the town once more. I head to the Alma pub, a hidden gem near the station that I found on the internet. It's small but very friendly, though there's something of a wait as only one barmaid is on. It also boasts the rare sight of a student drinking bitter! This is in contrast to the grizzled, balding man in his 50s downing a bottle of WDK - not exactly dignified.
I head back to the magnificent station - a beautifully intact town hall like building with a clock tower - and clamber on to a 3 coach 185 Trans Pennine Express to Liverpool to take me to York. We call at Seamer before splitting off the Hull line on to the line to York and on to Malton. This used to be the junction for the line to Whitby. This is a huge loss to my mind. You can now only reach Whitby from Darlington or Middlesbrough, a very long way round compared to the old route from York, which would be so useful today for just about everywhere south of Darlington, given the ease of reaching York from most of the UK. You can still catch a regular bus from York along this more direct route, which almost in recognition of this closure being a mistake, is listed amongst the trains on York's departure board! The North Yorkshire Moors railway has a chunk of the route between Pickering and Grosmont, and it runs more trains through to Whitby than Northern Rail! Let's hope they extend all the way to Malton again.
It's a beautiful evening as we cross the magnificence of North Yorkshire. In less than an hour the houses start to build up around us and we cross the Ouse bridge into the city of York. I have a 90 minute wait here, but I never tire of the place. It's such a beautiful place just to be. I am looking for a pub called The Maltings, but sadly it's so full that I don't even try to get a drink. Instead I head to Ye Olde Star Inn, where I'd been before. The staff are as friendly as ever and there is a good choice of beers. I sit outside, pleasantly chilled by the early Autumn darkness before heading back to the station. There are a good few people collapsing drunk already, the place seems livelier than I've known it before. The station is quite rowdy, though more than I'd realised - our train is held for some minutes as the police remove some presumably drunken passengers. It's a 125, the only time I think I've got one coming back on the East Coast, nicely refurbished. I make full use of the free first class coffee, an antidote to a day of drinking. It's a shame that GNER are going next month. Hopefully National Express won't paint the trains in an undignified colour scheme a la First and Stagecoach. Next week could be my final GNER trip...
Itineary:
London King's Cross-Selby-Hull
Hull-Scarborough
Scarborough-York
York-London King's Cross
Hull Trains is one of the (rare?) success stories of privatisation. BR tended to concentrate their direct London services on the most lucrative established routes, ie, York, Leeds, Manchester, Birmingham etc, so cities off the main lines tended to have scant direct services, Hull being an obvious one. Privatisation has of course massively increased services on the main routes, these being increasingly remunerative, but has allowed niche markets to be exploited also. Open access operators apply to run services on routes they have chosen, rather than bidding for a franchise that compels them to provide a minimum level of service on all routes that form part of it. Hull Trains is such an operator running just between London and Hull and giving other East Yorkshire stops a link to London. Launched in 2000 with 3 trains a day, it now runs 7 with plans for more, using its own Pioneer trains similar to the Virgin Voyagers and Midland Meridians. Other open access operators are gradually coming into being. Grand Central is about to start running direct to Hartlepool and Sunderland, with stops in North Yorkshire largely ignored by GNER. They also want to run to Halifax, Huddersfield and Bradford. Most recently Shropshire and Warwickshire is launching in 2008 and will provide Wrexham and Shrewsbury with London trains again.
So at 9.34 the Hull Trains Pioneer sets off. The layout is better than I remember from the Meridians and much better than the Voyagers. The upholstery, whilst modern, has an old-fashioned look about it that really works - reminds me of original Mk1 carriages on preserved railways! The train is fairly full but I have a peaceful journey and am able to do a bit of reading, though I look up after Peterborough just in time to see a sign marking the spot where the Mallard broke the world steam record on Stoke Bank which still stands at 138mph. How did I miss this before? We go fast to Grantham, and after Doncaster leave the electrified line and head into Selby. Until the 1980s, this was still part of the main line. Due to the discovery of the "super pit" in the Selby area, mining activities were to increase there and this presented stability risks to the line. Hence the lines was diverted between Doncaster and York, and Selby came off the main line and on to a branch. Though the pit was inevitably closed, evidence of the coalfields is still all around us, this being almost a power station belt, the smoke winding up like mini-tornadoes into the grey clouds above. Arrival at Selby ticks off this stretch that I have never travelled before.
I've already travelled along here as far as Brough, so beyond here it's new territory. We cross the marshy flatlands that tend to characterise England's eastern edge, the wide plain of the Humber coming into view at last. We could almost be in south Essex or north Kent and this could be the Thames. There's even a suspension bridge like the QE2 - but the Humber bridge got there first! I'd wanted to see this ever since I heard about its opening from a teacher who knew I was into such oddities, and it doesn't disappoint. In the future I hope to walk across it. It might have been nice to come back by ferry but that's been gone for over 25 years - ie when the bridge opened! Before long we're pulling into Hull.
Hull Paragon is a proper city station, with a great wide arched roof and a spacious concourse. It is currently being transformed into a transport interchange, the bus station bays being part of the north side of the station, a great idea - EXACTLY what was needed at London Victoria instead of the mess we have there now. Shame the new shelter being added at the front is totally out of sympathy with the ornate Victorian station. Hull, like many cities, appears to be receiving a face lift, ie, new shopping centres. I find my way to a pub that I've looked up - The Wellington Arms. It's amazing! Despite being almost next to a horrible ring road, and amongst grilled windows and barbed wire, signs proclaim its pub of the year status. I cautiously go inside. It has a string of ales and ciders on as well as the favourites. It actually boasts a giant shelved cool area at the back of the bar, with glass sides so that you can see what they have, which is packed with bottled beers from all sorts of places. A shelf running around the wall brims with empty bottles of a dazzling variety. The wall space is covered with beer mats. There are copies of local CAMRA newsletters from various parts of the UK. I've never seen anything like it!
Regrettably I've time for just one before heading back via a bakery (love Northern bakeries!) to the waiting 2 coach 158 that will take me to Scarborough. This has been refurbished with nice deep seats - dare I say, almost as good as the old trains! This line spurs off from the main line and heads north. The running is very slow almost as far as Beverley. I'm guessing that the track has recently been relaid. Beverley has a lovely atmospheric station with an overall roof - very rare now - which suits the ambiance of the town as I've heard about it. I snatch a look at the Minster - somewhere I will visit in the future. Then we wind through the countryside to our first coastal stop - Bridlington, one of the famous names along this coast. It has an interesting station with through and terminus platforms. As we leave I see the sea for the first time, a newly emerging sun lighting white cliffs.
After another famous name - Filey - we join the line from York and pull into the most famous name of all along here - Scarborough. The line used to continue along the coast through to Whitby, Saltburn and Middlesbrough in happier times, a sadly missed link. After crossing the road I am plunged into the shopping centre crowds, and nip down a side street to avoid them. I reach the cliff top and take a path down to the front. It reminds me of a much bigger Whitby, with a harbour, a church and castle dominating the cliffs, and a gaggle of pleasant buildings along the foreshore. I am heading for a Sam Smith's pub overlooking the harbour, The Golden Ball. Sadly it's a disappointment - three bars, one closed, one full and the remaining one like an empty common room. I then grab some haddock and chips next door and walk up to the castle walls and look over the North Bay before heading down to the town once more. I head to the Alma pub, a hidden gem near the station that I found on the internet. It's small but very friendly, though there's something of a wait as only one barmaid is on. It also boasts the rare sight of a student drinking bitter! This is in contrast to the grizzled, balding man in his 50s downing a bottle of WDK - not exactly dignified.
I head back to the magnificent station - a beautifully intact town hall like building with a clock tower - and clamber on to a 3 coach 185 Trans Pennine Express to Liverpool to take me to York. We call at Seamer before splitting off the Hull line on to the line to York and on to Malton. This used to be the junction for the line to Whitby. This is a huge loss to my mind. You can now only reach Whitby from Darlington or Middlesbrough, a very long way round compared to the old route from York, which would be so useful today for just about everywhere south of Darlington, given the ease of reaching York from most of the UK. You can still catch a regular bus from York along this more direct route, which almost in recognition of this closure being a mistake, is listed amongst the trains on York's departure board! The North Yorkshire Moors railway has a chunk of the route between Pickering and Grosmont, and it runs more trains through to Whitby than Northern Rail! Let's hope they extend all the way to Malton again.
It's a beautiful evening as we cross the magnificence of North Yorkshire. In less than an hour the houses start to build up around us and we cross the Ouse bridge into the city of York. I have a 90 minute wait here, but I never tire of the place. It's such a beautiful place just to be. I am looking for a pub called The Maltings, but sadly it's so full that I don't even try to get a drink. Instead I head to Ye Olde Star Inn, where I'd been before. The staff are as friendly as ever and there is a good choice of beers. I sit outside, pleasantly chilled by the early Autumn darkness before heading back to the station. There are a good few people collapsing drunk already, the place seems livelier than I've known it before. The station is quite rowdy, though more than I'd realised - our train is held for some minutes as the police remove some presumably drunken passengers. It's a 125, the only time I think I've got one coming back on the East Coast, nicely refurbished. I make full use of the free first class coffee, an antidote to a day of drinking. It's a shame that GNER are going next month. Hopefully National Express won't paint the trains in an undignified colour scheme a la First and Stagecoach. Next week could be my final GNER trip...
Itineary:
London King's Cross-Selby-Hull
Hull-Scarborough
Scarborough-York
York-London King's Cross
Saturday, 29 September 2007
29 September 2007: London Tilbury & Southend
Realising that I have managed to leave some of them out, I decided that it was time to cover the rest of the London Tilbury and Southend Lines. Today when you look at the route map for these lines, run by C2C, it looks like a simple enough operation. However its history is relatively complex. The line from Fenchuch Street opened in 1854 and originally ran via Stratford, Barking and Tilbury to Southend. A few years later a more direct route via Upminster and Pitsea was built and the whole thing extended to Shoeburyness. A few decades later a branch from Grays to Romford via Upminster was built. This gives us largely what we have today - except that the latter branch is now operated as a Romford-Upminster shuttle - and Upminster to Grays from Fenchurch Street.
In the early 20th century the line was put up for sale and bought by the Midland Railway. At around the same time the District Railway connected their line and began running trains over Midland metals. Their trains went all the way from Ealing Broadway to Shoeburyness until the outbreak of war in 1939. By this time London Underground had taken over the District Railway and electrified it as far as Upminster. This was now part of the nationalised London Underground.
After the war, the non-underground line became part of British Railways under the London Midland Region - an anomaly that persisted for a few years, until rather more sensibly, the Eastern Region finally got the line! In 1962 BR electrified their tracks east of Upminster. There were now two electrified routes running parallel from Bow to Upminster, one operated by BR and one by LT, and consequently BR withdrew all their trains from all stations bar West Ham, Barking and Upminster, and concentrated on faster services from London through to stations east of Upminster.
By the 1990's the line was in trouble. The electric trains had been running for 30 years and were increasingly unreliable and the infrastructure was crumbling. It became dubbed as the "misery line," the least reliable commuter line in London. The private sector inherited this and bore the brunt of the blame until Railtrack re-signalled it and C2C invested in shiny new Electrostar trains. And this is where I came in...
I set off to Fenchurch Street at around midday, only to be greeted at Tower Hill tube with the news that a signal failure had closed the line as far as Barking. A pain, because now I had to get the District Line all the way to Barking before I could start on the main journey, going SLOWLY through all the ropey places I would have preferred to have sped through on a proper train. At Barking the usual breakdown of communication had happened that seems to occur any time there's a problem on the railway. Hardly any information or announcements. And a tosser on the platform slagging off the passing West Ham fans in surely a drug-induced manner and proclaiming his loyalty to Arsenal. He was asking for a thump from one of the Hammers fans and I don't know how he didn't get one.
Luckily I didn't have to wait long for a train to Leigh. It flies past all the District Line stations before Upminster that used to be served by the railway. You can still see the majority of the old mummified LTS platforms in situ. I wonder why they have been left? Finally at Upminster the tube terminates and LTS is on its own as it crosses where the Essex border has been since 1965. The landscape is chiefly marshy flat lands, as you would expect on the Thames floodplain.
We arrive at Leigh on Sea in decent weather, despite the forecast of rain for that day. The first thing I notice is that the approaches to the station are designed for cars not people, forcing you to take a less pleasant and longer way round than is needed on foot. Oh well. The town is effectively split into two parts, an upper area where the shops and church are, and the lower part by the waterfront. It's the latter I'm heading for.
The street along the waterfront is the High Street even though the shops etc are up the hill. This runs parallel to the railway as it heads east from Leigh on to Southend, and I notice that right up against the line is a very station-like building which is the Sailing Club. However those canopies and the proximity to the track tell me this was once a station. Later research reveals that this was indeed the station until the 1930s, when for reasons that are not clear, it was closed and rebuilt in the far less convenient location I have just had to walk from!
The Leigh waterfront is a delight. There is a small harbour that looks out over Canvey Island, and further away, the south bank of the Thames where the Kent coast and the Isle of Grain can be seen. The tide is high and it's easy now to see how the low lying Canvey was so badly overcome by the 1953 floods. There are several nice pubs and seafood shops clustered along the harbour. I sample three of the pubs, the last one being tied to a seafood stall. The shellfish does look gorgeous but I am a bit funny about shellfish texture, apart from not really knowing how to peel it. I settle for some chips before heading back to the station.
I get a train back that is going back over the same route I came down on. Therefore I had to change at Pitsea, the junction for the original line through Tilbury, which I hadn't travelled yet. I wish I'd done the down journey via this route so I didn't have to do it now. It's everything I imagined the route would be in this part of the world. Dozens of chavs playing music off their mobiles at top volume and smoking dope on the train. And no security or guards where they are really needed. I put my I-Pod on top volume and shut it all out until we get back to London, though most of the scum get off at Grays or Barking.
This particular train returns to London via the latterly opened Grays to Upminster branch rather than the original one through Rainham. This is still single track though I gather doubling it is on the cards, it serving the growing Thames Gateway and enormous Lakeside complex at Chafford Hundred, where a new station was opened in 1995. Why did this open three years AFTER the shopping centre?
I make it alive back to Fenchurch Street, but one problem remains. I now have to complete Barking to Grays via Rainham, having completed the Leigh to Southend section in 2002. Having experienced the south Essex ambience, I'm in some trepidation about pursuing this. Perhaps I should take the approach I took on the Dartford lines and travel with the rush hour commuters? Tune in for the next installment...
Itineary:
Barking-Basildon-Leigh
Leigh-Pitsea-Barking-London Fenchurch Street
In the early 20th century the line was put up for sale and bought by the Midland Railway. At around the same time the District Railway connected their line and began running trains over Midland metals. Their trains went all the way from Ealing Broadway to Shoeburyness until the outbreak of war in 1939. By this time London Underground had taken over the District Railway and electrified it as far as Upminster. This was now part of the nationalised London Underground.
After the war, the non-underground line became part of British Railways under the London Midland Region - an anomaly that persisted for a few years, until rather more sensibly, the Eastern Region finally got the line! In 1962 BR electrified their tracks east of Upminster. There were now two electrified routes running parallel from Bow to Upminster, one operated by BR and one by LT, and consequently BR withdrew all their trains from all stations bar West Ham, Barking and Upminster, and concentrated on faster services from London through to stations east of Upminster.
By the 1990's the line was in trouble. The electric trains had been running for 30 years and were increasingly unreliable and the infrastructure was crumbling. It became dubbed as the "misery line," the least reliable commuter line in London. The private sector inherited this and bore the brunt of the blame until Railtrack re-signalled it and C2C invested in shiny new Electrostar trains. And this is where I came in...
I set off to Fenchurch Street at around midday, only to be greeted at Tower Hill tube with the news that a signal failure had closed the line as far as Barking. A pain, because now I had to get the District Line all the way to Barking before I could start on the main journey, going SLOWLY through all the ropey places I would have preferred to have sped through on a proper train. At Barking the usual breakdown of communication had happened that seems to occur any time there's a problem on the railway. Hardly any information or announcements. And a tosser on the platform slagging off the passing West Ham fans in surely a drug-induced manner and proclaiming his loyalty to Arsenal. He was asking for a thump from one of the Hammers fans and I don't know how he didn't get one.
Luckily I didn't have to wait long for a train to Leigh. It flies past all the District Line stations before Upminster that used to be served by the railway. You can still see the majority of the old mummified LTS platforms in situ. I wonder why they have been left? Finally at Upminster the tube terminates and LTS is on its own as it crosses where the Essex border has been since 1965. The landscape is chiefly marshy flat lands, as you would expect on the Thames floodplain.
We arrive at Leigh on Sea in decent weather, despite the forecast of rain for that day. The first thing I notice is that the approaches to the station are designed for cars not people, forcing you to take a less pleasant and longer way round than is needed on foot. Oh well. The town is effectively split into two parts, an upper area where the shops and church are, and the lower part by the waterfront. It's the latter I'm heading for.
The street along the waterfront is the High Street even though the shops etc are up the hill. This runs parallel to the railway as it heads east from Leigh on to Southend, and I notice that right up against the line is a very station-like building which is the Sailing Club. However those canopies and the proximity to the track tell me this was once a station. Later research reveals that this was indeed the station until the 1930s, when for reasons that are not clear, it was closed and rebuilt in the far less convenient location I have just had to walk from!
The Leigh waterfront is a delight. There is a small harbour that looks out over Canvey Island, and further away, the south bank of the Thames where the Kent coast and the Isle of Grain can be seen. The tide is high and it's easy now to see how the low lying Canvey was so badly overcome by the 1953 floods. There are several nice pubs and seafood shops clustered along the harbour. I sample three of the pubs, the last one being tied to a seafood stall. The shellfish does look gorgeous but I am a bit funny about shellfish texture, apart from not really knowing how to peel it. I settle for some chips before heading back to the station.
I get a train back that is going back over the same route I came down on. Therefore I had to change at Pitsea, the junction for the original line through Tilbury, which I hadn't travelled yet. I wish I'd done the down journey via this route so I didn't have to do it now. It's everything I imagined the route would be in this part of the world. Dozens of chavs playing music off their mobiles at top volume and smoking dope on the train. And no security or guards where they are really needed. I put my I-Pod on top volume and shut it all out until we get back to London, though most of the scum get off at Grays or Barking.
This particular train returns to London via the latterly opened Grays to Upminster branch rather than the original one through Rainham. This is still single track though I gather doubling it is on the cards, it serving the growing Thames Gateway and enormous Lakeside complex at Chafford Hundred, where a new station was opened in 1995. Why did this open three years AFTER the shopping centre?
I make it alive back to Fenchurch Street, but one problem remains. I now have to complete Barking to Grays via Rainham, having completed the Leigh to Southend section in 2002. Having experienced the south Essex ambience, I'm in some trepidation about pursuing this. Perhaps I should take the approach I took on the Dartford lines and travel with the rush hour commuters? Tune in for the next installment...
Itineary:
Barking-Basildon-Leigh
Leigh-Pitsea-Barking-London Fenchurch Street
Friday, 21 September 2007
Miscellaneous Trips - Various Dates
These are trips that were comprised of just one or two lines or I just travelled them frequently in the course of things. There is little to say about most of them. Or I can't remember the details! Some of them may be expanded if my memory brings back something of note. NB These dates are approximate, and do not necessarily refer to the first trip made over a particular line.
Summer 1992 - Surbiton-Hampton Court
October 1996 - Sittingbourne-Sheerness
Autumn 1996 - London-Lewisham-Hayes
Autumn 1996 - London-Bromley South-Orpington
December 1996 - London Kings Cross-Cambridge
December 1996 - Kings Cross Thameslink-Brighton
Summer 1997 - Raynes Park-Chesssington South
Autumn 1997 - London Victoria-West Norwood-Beckenham Junction
Summer 1998 - Strood-Paddock Wood
Summer 1998 - Ashford-Hastings
Summer 1998 - Oxted-Uckfield
Summer 1998 - Ashford-Canterbury West-Ramsgate
Spring 2000 - Lewisham-Peckham
Spring 2001 - Barnes-Hounslow-Twickenham
Spring 2001 - Twickenham-Kingston-Wimbledon
Spring 2001 - Herne Hill-Tooting-Wimbledon
April 2001 - Heathrow Express
Summer 2001 - London-Sevenoaks-Hastings
Summer 2001 - London-Hasalmere-Portsmouth
Summer 2001 - Portsmouth-Eastleigh
Autumn 2001 - London Victoria-Chatham-Canterbury East-Dover-Walmer
Autumn 2001 - Walmer-Ramsgate-Chatham-London Victoria
Autumn 2001 - London-Richmond-Reading-Oxford
Autumn 2001 - Purley-Caterham
Autumn 2001 - North Woolwich-Richmond
March 2002 - London Liverpool Street-Southend Victoria
March 2002 - Shoeburyness-London Fenchurch Street
Spring 2002 - Watford Junction-Clapham Junction-East Croydon
Spring 2002 - Grove Park-Bromley North
Summer 2002 - Banbury-Oxford
Summer 2002 - London-Woking-Guildford
Summer 2002 - Guildford-Bookham-Epsom-Motspur Park-London
Summer 2002 - London-Tattenham Corner
Summer 2002 - Epsom Downs-West Croydon
Summer 2002 - West Croydon-Epsom-Dorking
Summer 2002 - Horsham-Dorking-London
Autumn 2002 - London Liverpool Street-Southminster
Autumn 2002 - Colchester-Clacton
Autumn 2002 - Thorpe Le Soken-Walton-on-the-Naze
September 2002 - London Victoria-Maidstone East-Ashford
September 2002 - Norwich-Sheringham
14 September 2002 - London-Alton
14 Seotember 2002 - Alton-Guildford
14 September 2002 - Weybridge-Staines
14 September 2002 - Teddington-Shepperton
14 September 2002 - Farnham-Ascot
Spring 2003 - Herne Hill- Sutton-Wimbledon
May 2003 - Cambridge-King's Lynn
Summer 2003 - London-Crawley-Chichester-Southampton
Summer 2003 - Barnham-Bognor Regis
Summer 2003 - Ford-Littlehampton
Summer 2003 - Chichester-Worthing-Brighton
Summer 2003 - Redhill-Gatwick-Guildford-Reading
Summer 2003 - Waterloo-Windsor & Eton Riverside
Summer 2003 - Windsor Central-Slough
Summer 2003 - London-Lewes-Eastbourne-Hastings
Summer 2003 - Lewes-Seaford
Summer 2003 - London Bridge-East Croydon-Redhill-Tonbridge
August 2003 - Marylebone-Aylesbury
August 2003 - Aylesbury-Princes Risborough
October 2003 - Witham-Braintree
October 2003 - London-Harwich
October 2003 - Ryde Pier Head-Shanklin
October 2003 - Lymington Pier-Brockenhurst
Summer 2004 - West Ealing-Greenford
Summer 2004 - Paddington-West Ruislip
Summer 2004 - Maidenhead-Marlow
Summer 2004 - Colchester-Colchester Town
Summer 2004 - Bristol Temple Meads-Westbury-Salisbury-Southampton-Portsmouth
Summer 2004 - Eastleigh-Chandler's Ford
Summer 2004 - Oxted-East Grinstead
31 July 2004 - London-Exeter-Exmouth
31 July 2004 - Exmouth-Barnstaple-Exeter-London
6 October 2004 - Basingstoke-Reading
October 2004 - London-Newton Abott-Paignton-Kingswear
December 2004 - London-Plymouth
May 2003 - Cambridge-Peterborough-Leicester-Birmingham New Street
27 September 2004 - London-Gloucester-Worcester-Kidderminster
27 September 2004 - Kidderminster-Birmingham Snow Hill-London
3 May 2005 - Castleford-Normanton-Wakefield
6 May 2005 - London-Oxford-Evesham-Worcester-Great Malvern-Hereford
Summer 2005 - London Liverpool Street-Tottenham Hale-Cambridge
Summer 2005 - Barking-Gospel Oak
Summer 2005 - Romford-Upminster
Summer 2005 - Clapton-Chingford
Summer 2005 - London Moorgate-Gordon Hill
Summer 2005 - Enfield Town-Hackney Downs
6 August 2005 - Watford Junction-St Albans Abbey
6 August 2005 - Bedford-Bletchley
13 August 2005 - Bristol Temple Meads-Severn Beach
15 August 2005 - Mark's Tey to Sudbury
August 2005 - London-Exeter St Davids-Okehampton-Meldon
Autumn 2005 - Cambridge-Turkey Street-London Liverpool Street
December 2005 - London-Hertford East
December 2005 - Hertford North-Stevenage
December 2005 - Swindon-Melksham-Westbury
Easter 2006 - Gloucester-Chepstow-Newport
Easter 2006 - Newport-Cardiff-Barry Island
Easter 2006 - Cardiff-Newport-Bristol Parkway-London
2 December 2006 - Oxford-Bicester Town
2 December 2006 - Twyford-Henley
2 June 2007 - Stansted Mountfitchet-Stansted Aiport
2 June 2007 - Stansted Airport-Audley End
July 2007 - Brighton-Lewes
21 September 2007 - London Bridge-Hither Green-Dartford
21 September 2007 - Dartford-Kidbrooke-Lewisham
23 November 2007 - London Fenchurch Street-Upminster-Grays-Purfleet-London Fenchurch Street
Summer 1992 - Surbiton-Hampton Court
October 1996 - Sittingbourne-Sheerness
Autumn 1996 - London-Lewisham-Hayes
Autumn 1996 - London-Bromley South-Orpington
December 1996 - London Kings Cross-Cambridge
December 1996 - Kings Cross Thameslink-Brighton
Summer 1997 - Raynes Park-Chesssington South
Autumn 1997 - London Victoria-West Norwood-Beckenham Junction
Summer 1998 - Strood-Paddock Wood
Summer 1998 - Ashford-Hastings
Summer 1998 - Oxted-Uckfield
Summer 1998 - Ashford-Canterbury West-Ramsgate
Spring 2000 - Lewisham-Peckham
Spring 2001 - Barnes-Hounslow-Twickenham
Spring 2001 - Twickenham-Kingston-Wimbledon
Spring 2001 - Herne Hill-Tooting-Wimbledon
April 2001 - Heathrow Express
Summer 2001 - London-Sevenoaks-Hastings
Summer 2001 - London-Hasalmere-Portsmouth
Summer 2001 - Portsmouth-Eastleigh
Autumn 2001 - London Victoria-Chatham-Canterbury East-Dover-Walmer
Autumn 2001 - Walmer-Ramsgate-Chatham-London Victoria
Autumn 2001 - London-Richmond-Reading-Oxford
Autumn 2001 - Purley-Caterham
Autumn 2001 - North Woolwich-Richmond
March 2002 - London Liverpool Street-Southend Victoria
March 2002 - Shoeburyness-London Fenchurch Street
Spring 2002 - Watford Junction-Clapham Junction-East Croydon
Spring 2002 - Grove Park-Bromley North
Summer 2002 - Banbury-Oxford
Summer 2002 - London-Woking-Guildford
Summer 2002 - Guildford-Bookham-Epsom-Motspur Park-London
Summer 2002 - London-Tattenham Corner
Summer 2002 - Epsom Downs-West Croydon
Summer 2002 - West Croydon-Epsom-Dorking
Summer 2002 - Horsham-Dorking-London
Autumn 2002 - London Liverpool Street-Southminster
Autumn 2002 - Colchester-Clacton
Autumn 2002 - Thorpe Le Soken-Walton-on-the-Naze
September 2002 - London Victoria-Maidstone East-Ashford
September 2002 - Norwich-Sheringham
14 September 2002 - London-Alton
14 Seotember 2002 - Alton-Guildford
14 September 2002 - Weybridge-Staines
14 September 2002 - Teddington-Shepperton
14 September 2002 - Farnham-Ascot
Spring 2003 - Herne Hill- Sutton-Wimbledon
May 2003 - Cambridge-King's Lynn
Summer 2003 - London-Crawley-Chichester-Southampton
Summer 2003 - Barnham-Bognor Regis
Summer 2003 - Ford-Littlehampton
Summer 2003 - Chichester-Worthing-Brighton
Summer 2003 - Redhill-Gatwick-Guildford-Reading
Summer 2003 - Waterloo-Windsor & Eton Riverside
Summer 2003 - Windsor Central-Slough
Summer 2003 - London-Lewes-Eastbourne-Hastings
Summer 2003 - Lewes-Seaford
Summer 2003 - London Bridge-East Croydon-Redhill-Tonbridge
August 2003 - Marylebone-Aylesbury
August 2003 - Aylesbury-Princes Risborough
October 2003 - Witham-Braintree
October 2003 - London-Harwich
October 2003 - Ryde Pier Head-Shanklin
October 2003 - Lymington Pier-Brockenhurst
Summer 2004 - West Ealing-Greenford
Summer 2004 - Paddington-West Ruislip
Summer 2004 - Maidenhead-Marlow
Summer 2004 - Colchester-Colchester Town
Summer 2004 - Bristol Temple Meads-Westbury-Salisbury-Southampton-Portsmouth
Summer 2004 - Eastleigh-Chandler's Ford
Summer 2004 - Oxted-East Grinstead
31 July 2004 - London-Exeter-Exmouth
31 July 2004 - Exmouth-Barnstaple-Exeter-London
6 October 2004 - Basingstoke-Reading
October 2004 - London-Newton Abott-Paignton-Kingswear
December 2004 - London-Plymouth
May 2003 - Cambridge-Peterborough-Leicester-Birmingham New Street
27 September 2004 - London-Gloucester-Worcester-Kidderminster
27 September 2004 - Kidderminster-Birmingham Snow Hill-London
3 May 2005 - Castleford-Normanton-Wakefield
6 May 2005 - London-Oxford-Evesham-Worcester-Great Malvern-Hereford
Summer 2005 - London Liverpool Street-Tottenham Hale-Cambridge
Summer 2005 - Barking-Gospel Oak
Summer 2005 - Romford-Upminster
Summer 2005 - Clapton-Chingford
Summer 2005 - London Moorgate-Gordon Hill
Summer 2005 - Enfield Town-Hackney Downs
6 August 2005 - Watford Junction-St Albans Abbey
6 August 2005 - Bedford-Bletchley
13 August 2005 - Bristol Temple Meads-Severn Beach
15 August 2005 - Mark's Tey to Sudbury
August 2005 - London-Exeter St Davids-Okehampton-Meldon
Autumn 2005 - Cambridge-Turkey Street-London Liverpool Street
December 2005 - London-Hertford East
December 2005 - Hertford North-Stevenage
December 2005 - Swindon-Melksham-Westbury
Easter 2006 - Gloucester-Chepstow-Newport
Easter 2006 - Newport-Cardiff-Barry Island
Easter 2006 - Cardiff-Newport-Bristol Parkway-London
2 December 2006 - Oxford-Bicester Town
2 December 2006 - Twyford-Henley
2 June 2007 - Stansted Mountfitchet-Stansted Aiport
2 June 2007 - Stansted Airport-Audley End
July 2007 - Brighton-Lewes
21 September 2007 - London Bridge-Hither Green-Dartford
21 September 2007 - Dartford-Kidbrooke-Lewisham
23 November 2007 - London Fenchurch Street-Upminster-Grays-Purfleet-London Fenchurch Street
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