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2011 Blog.
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sprinterguy
Veteran Member
A 158 on the Penistone line and a 156 on the Hope Valley? That's crazy talk! I wonder what on earth was going on in Northerns' train planning department to turn out such luxury on well known Pacer turns! Whatever next: Brand new trains for Northern?
I've had some excellent Pacer runs on 142s over the Hope Valley line, if there's a route Pacers are designed to handle, the Hope Valley is it IMO.
Blindtraveler
Established Member
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- 28 Feb 2011
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hard lines mate. You can keep the 156, but the 58 would be ok with the highlight being the paser!
--- old post above --- --- new post below ---
not done hope valley on a paser. Any good? Highlights?
--- old post above --- --- new post below ---
not done hope valley on a paser. Any good? Highlights?
A 158 on the Penistone line and a 156 on the Hope Valley? That's crazy talk! I wonder what on earth was going on in Northerns' train planning department to turn out such luxury on well known Pacer turns! Whatever next: Brand new trains for Northern?
I've had some excellent Pacer runs on 142s over the Hope Valley line, if there's a route Pacers are designed to handle, the Hope Valley is it IMO.
Was expecting quite a few Pacers yesterday, and only managed that one from Westgate to Leeds. Very suprised to see the 158 turn up, then irritated to see a 156. Still, lots of 142 mileage next weekend - back up to Newcastle so planning a bash.
Blindtraveler said:
It's actually quite a good line for a 142, scenery is very nice. Some squeaky bits and a bit of bounce but any trip on a 142 is good in my book.
Fair enough. I've just been looking at the Stratford-upon-Avon line timetable and worked out a series of moves that should see me get all of the shacks I still need on that line out of the way, before getting the 1755 Stratford-upon-Avon to Worcester Foregate Street all the way throughout. That being the working I was referring to earlier, 1 hour and 46 minutes of 150 action
By this time tomorrow, should I actually do this series of moves then, I may well end up agreeing with you about the line. Until then, it's been something like 6 or 7 years since I last got a 150 out of Stratford-upon-Avon, having had a FGWL Turbo from Leamington Spa to the Warwickshire town! Which shows how long it's been on its own! I've been as far as Wythall this year though, but I didn't mind the regular stopping and starting since it meant more noise for me to enjoy from the Cummins NT855!
Last time I caught a train from Stratford it was a GRCW class 122 single car plus trailer to Leamington, which I guess may well make it so long ago that it might even have been before you were born!
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Techniquest
Veteran Member
Good grief, that must have been a long time ago. If it was before 16th December 1984, then you'd be correct!
22nd June. A fairly routine trip this, so I’m writing this short report mainly for my own records. It consists mainly of the usual series of petty moans so don’t say you weren’t warned. Up and off early doors on the first train out of Shipley at 06:08 to Leeds, where I transferred to the 06:34 EMT HST to St Pancras with 43047 leading. Despite being in the fourth coach from the front a huge cloud of clag from 047’s VP185 engine passed the window shortly after leaving Leeds. I leaned out for a bit but it was cold and wet at that hour so I got the laptop out and did some work as far as Chesterfield after which the seat next to me was occupied so I refrained from occupying the whole table with my stuff. The rest of the journey passed half in sleep and half awake, until I became more attentive to the approach to London along a route I rarely travel. At St Pancras I clocked 43065 now at the head after reversal at Nottingham, then joined the queue for the newly installed assault course of barriers.
I wonder if EMT have a work study department, or even just a single time and motion man with a stopwatch? Whatever, they/he clearly weren’t involved in working out how long it takes to filter an entire HST’s worth of passengers through five barriers. This is compounded by the fact that this is an Inter City route so lots of luggage and flustered non-regular passengers. Also there is a great big notice as you approach the barriers warning that all tickets for journeys ending at Pancras will be devoured by the barriers, so if you want to keep ‘em you must inform the barrier attendant who will let you through. Lots of people (including me) were in this situation, and all had to go through the disabled barrier on the right. Wouldn’t it be easier just to have barriers that don’t swallow tickets at all, like at Leeds (Good Lord, I seem to be defending the Leeds barriers!)? Anyway, the whole thing took ages and I wonder what it must be like when two trains arrive here within a couple of minutes of each other.
Next down to the tube for the Victoria Line and some insipid modern stock to Vauxhall. A 455 to Byfleet & New Haw followed (again). Approaching Byfleet I noticed the track on the burrow under from Addlestone was very shiny and wondered what was using it. There used to be an hourly service from Staines to Woking back in the day, but not any more. After work I caught another 455 back to Wimbledon, walked a mile to my hotel where I dumped my gear and got changed, then caught the Northern Line from Colliers Wood. I was heading to Waterloo, but there was no direct train called for 14 minutes, so rather than change at Kennington I stayed on the Bank branch train to Elephant & Castle and caught the Bakerloo instead. This was to ensure full bashing of the southern end of the Northern Line. Coming back after my evening out I took the Northern Line southbound at Waterloo and transferred at Kennington. Just like almost everybody else on the almost full train. Two questions about the Northern Line: (i) why, when trains coming south from the West End at half ten are close to full, do LUL terminate all these at Kennington, forcing everyone to change into a more lightly loaded train coming off the Bank branch? (ii) Why is it called the ‘Bank Branch’ when it is clearly operated as the main line? Surely it would be more sensible to operate some, most, or even all trains to Morden off the West End line in the evenings, with the added benefit that the name ‘Bank Branch’ would then make sense. Even though I was tired and rather sloshed I endured the misery of the Northern Line all the way to Morden before coming back north two stops to Colliers Wood, simply to ensure that it was all done and that I would never, ever have to do it again. The island platforms at Clapham North and Clapham Common felt rather quaint and old fashioned, and reminiscent of the Glasgow Underground.
Next morning back out to Byfleet on another 455. After work I was waiting for the 15:10 to Waterloo when 59102 came through on Mendip Rail wagons and headed towards Addlestone, at least partly answering my question about what’s going that way these days. Does anyone have any idea what this flow is? The 455 was on time departing and likewise arriving at Vauxhall. More ghastly modern toothpaste tube horror back to the Cross, where I was pleased to see a surviving train of 1967 stock in the southbound platform, at the same time as being slightly disappointed that it hadn’t been working my train.
Went to McDonalds again and had a Big Tasty this time. This is McDonalds’ answer to a Whopper and is not bad, but on balance not worth £1.20 more than a Big Mac so I won’t have one next time. 91122 was at the head of the 16:33 to Leeds, which was pretty full. I have very ambivalent feelings towards 91s. Obviously they’re an easy way to clock up loco-hauled miles, very useful during my ‘Year of the Locomotive’, yet somehow I can’t (and never have been able to) regard them as ‘proper’ locos. Looking more like some sort of giant bus that’s had an unfortunate accident with a pencil sharpener, I can’t get worked up about them at all. It’s not that they’re electric (although TBH diesel is much more my bag) as I like class 90s, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. I guess it may be that they feel more like part of a unit than anything else, a view reinforced by the fact that they don’t do any other work, making them comparable with the ludicrous practice of calling HST power cars locomotives.
Anyway, unfortunately somebody in the carriage kept farting, which was making the journey less pleasant than it could have been. SBDs as well, so impossible to establish who the culprit was. I texted a forum member who works for East Coast complaining about this problem, but he wasn’t terribly helpful, only able to suggest I try to get an upgrade into the cab of the 91. I wonder what EC’s (or any TOC’s) policy is on farting? Will it be mentioned in the conditions of carriage I wonder, or has it been totally overlooked?
This train now has a bizarre stopping pattern of Stevenage (first time I’ve caught an ECML working that stops there for years), Grantham, Retford and Wakefield. Its stops seemingly selected using the National Lottery, this train misses the main two of Peterborough and Doncaster. Still, it’s always good to roar through these stations at speed. Therefore it was disappointing to find us being checked south of Peterboro and crawling through at about 25. This at the same time as the lingering whiff of the Phantom’s latest offering was still hanging in the air. If anyone reading this was in coach E of the 16:33 London Kings Cross to Leeds service on Thursday 23rd June, roughly between seats 25 and 50, and has something they’d like to get off their chest, now is the time to do so. We limped through Donny at about 40, so that was a bit disappointing as well, but I suspect we were a little early, which may explain it. I hadn’t smelled any guffs since Grantham, but passing South Elmsall it was back again, although TBF this may just have been South Elmsall.
The train was booked into Leeds at 18:52. Another out of pattern Airedale Line departure at 18:54 vice 56 meant a tense approach to Leeds. Why are there so many of these in the new book? What’s wrong with 26 and 56? The next departure to Saltaire is in pattern at 19:26, but rather than wait for this the plan would be to take the 19:10 Forster Square working and walk from Shipley, losing ¾ mile in the log and wearing out more shoe leather. Passing Hare Park Junction at 18:25, things were looking up. The train came to a halt at Westgate at 18:30, so there was everything to play for. We passed Elland Road at 18:40 then started to brake hard. Uh-oh. At Copley Hill we unusually crossed onto the Huddersfield lines for the final approach to Leeds, meaning we had to cross the whole of the throat to get to platform 8, where we came to rest six early at 18:46. Excellent. 333004 was conveniently sitting on 5 waiting to take me home on the 18:54 without further fuss.
I wonder if EMT have a work study department, or even just a single time and motion man with a stopwatch? Whatever, they/he clearly weren’t involved in working out how long it takes to filter an entire HST’s worth of passengers through five barriers. This is compounded by the fact that this is an Inter City route so lots of luggage and flustered non-regular passengers. Also there is a great big notice as you approach the barriers warning that all tickets for journeys ending at Pancras will be devoured by the barriers, so if you want to keep ‘em you must inform the barrier attendant who will let you through. Lots of people (including me) were in this situation, and all had to go through the disabled barrier on the right. Wouldn’t it be easier just to have barriers that don’t swallow tickets at all, like at Leeds (Good Lord, I seem to be defending the Leeds barriers!)? Anyway, the whole thing took ages and I wonder what it must be like when two trains arrive here within a couple of minutes of each other.
Next down to the tube for the Victoria Line and some insipid modern stock to Vauxhall. A 455 to Byfleet & New Haw followed (again). Approaching Byfleet I noticed the track on the burrow under from Addlestone was very shiny and wondered what was using it. There used to be an hourly service from Staines to Woking back in the day, but not any more. After work I caught another 455 back to Wimbledon, walked a mile to my hotel where I dumped my gear and got changed, then caught the Northern Line from Colliers Wood. I was heading to Waterloo, but there was no direct train called for 14 minutes, so rather than change at Kennington I stayed on the Bank branch train to Elephant & Castle and caught the Bakerloo instead. This was to ensure full bashing of the southern end of the Northern Line. Coming back after my evening out I took the Northern Line southbound at Waterloo and transferred at Kennington. Just like almost everybody else on the almost full train. Two questions about the Northern Line: (i) why, when trains coming south from the West End at half ten are close to full, do LUL terminate all these at Kennington, forcing everyone to change into a more lightly loaded train coming off the Bank branch? (ii) Why is it called the ‘Bank Branch’ when it is clearly operated as the main line? Surely it would be more sensible to operate some, most, or even all trains to Morden off the West End line in the evenings, with the added benefit that the name ‘Bank Branch’ would then make sense. Even though I was tired and rather sloshed I endured the misery of the Northern Line all the way to Morden before coming back north two stops to Colliers Wood, simply to ensure that it was all done and that I would never, ever have to do it again. The island platforms at Clapham North and Clapham Common felt rather quaint and old fashioned, and reminiscent of the Glasgow Underground.
Next morning back out to Byfleet on another 455. After work I was waiting for the 15:10 to Waterloo when 59102 came through on Mendip Rail wagons and headed towards Addlestone, at least partly answering my question about what’s going that way these days. Does anyone have any idea what this flow is? The 455 was on time departing and likewise arriving at Vauxhall. More ghastly modern toothpaste tube horror back to the Cross, where I was pleased to see a surviving train of 1967 stock in the southbound platform, at the same time as being slightly disappointed that it hadn’t been working my train.
Went to McDonalds again and had a Big Tasty this time. This is McDonalds’ answer to a Whopper and is not bad, but on balance not worth £1.20 more than a Big Mac so I won’t have one next time. 91122 was at the head of the 16:33 to Leeds, which was pretty full. I have very ambivalent feelings towards 91s. Obviously they’re an easy way to clock up loco-hauled miles, very useful during my ‘Year of the Locomotive’, yet somehow I can’t (and never have been able to) regard them as ‘proper’ locos. Looking more like some sort of giant bus that’s had an unfortunate accident with a pencil sharpener, I can’t get worked up about them at all. It’s not that they’re electric (although TBH diesel is much more my bag) as I like class 90s, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. I guess it may be that they feel more like part of a unit than anything else, a view reinforced by the fact that they don’t do any other work, making them comparable with the ludicrous practice of calling HST power cars locomotives.
Anyway, unfortunately somebody in the carriage kept farting, which was making the journey less pleasant than it could have been. SBDs as well, so impossible to establish who the culprit was. I texted a forum member who works for East Coast complaining about this problem, but he wasn’t terribly helpful, only able to suggest I try to get an upgrade into the cab of the 91. I wonder what EC’s (or any TOC’s) policy is on farting? Will it be mentioned in the conditions of carriage I wonder, or has it been totally overlooked?
This train now has a bizarre stopping pattern of Stevenage (first time I’ve caught an ECML working that stops there for years), Grantham, Retford and Wakefield. Its stops seemingly selected using the National Lottery, this train misses the main two of Peterborough and Doncaster. Still, it’s always good to roar through these stations at speed. Therefore it was disappointing to find us being checked south of Peterboro and crawling through at about 25. This at the same time as the lingering whiff of the Phantom’s latest offering was still hanging in the air. If anyone reading this was in coach E of the 16:33 London Kings Cross to Leeds service on Thursday 23rd June, roughly between seats 25 and 50, and has something they’d like to get off their chest, now is the time to do so. We limped through Donny at about 40, so that was a bit disappointing as well, but I suspect we were a little early, which may explain it. I hadn’t smelled any guffs since Grantham, but passing South Elmsall it was back again, although TBF this may just have been South Elmsall.
The train was booked into Leeds at 18:52. Another out of pattern Airedale Line departure at 18:54 vice 56 meant a tense approach to Leeds. Why are there so many of these in the new book? What’s wrong with 26 and 56? The next departure to Saltaire is in pattern at 19:26, but rather than wait for this the plan would be to take the 19:10 Forster Square working and walk from Shipley, losing ¾ mile in the log and wearing out more shoe leather. Passing Hare Park Junction at 18:25, things were looking up. The train came to a halt at Westgate at 18:30, so there was everything to play for. We passed Elland Road at 18:40 then started to brake hard. Uh-oh. At Copley Hill we unusually crossed onto the Huddersfield lines for the final approach to Leeds, meaning we had to cross the whole of the throat to get to platform 8, where we came to rest six early at 18:46. Excellent. 333004 was conveniently sitting on 5 waiting to take me home on the 18:54 without further fuss.
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12th July. A total crankfest in order, with the emphasis on as much loco-haulage as possible as part of my Year of the Locomotive, combined with the usual attempts to tick off a few more lines and accumulate quality mileage. A nice leisurely start on the 10:39 333 ex-Shipley to meet the 11:11 Plymouth Cross Country working at Leeds. The reason for this later than usual start is to get a train that is both late enough to permit cheap advance tickets on this leg, and crucially not a Voyager. It also permits me to be more involved with the morning home routine, take the boys to school etc, which helps get Brownie Points in the bag. The 11:11 (06:30 ex-Dundee and the last southbound HST of the day) was half full at most, and the woman in the seat next me bailed at Wakefield Westgate, allowing me to spread out and relax. I’d been booked into a priority disabled seat (5) for some reason, so I had loads of legroom as well. A smooth and quiet mk III coach with no underfloor noise, a seat that lined up perfectly with the window, plenty of legroom and no hideous stink from the toilets, all for £22.50: this is really great, and as good as travelling second class with XC can ever get IMHO. Two American girls boarded at Wakefield heading for Truro, so I’m glad they were on this train and will go home with a more positive report of our railways than would have been the case had they been on a Vomiter for 5 hours. My advice to anyone choosing seats when booking HSTs on XC’s website is to bag either seat 5 or 6 if available, although this is incompatible with my other piece of advice about using XC’s website, which is “don’t”. They charge you a quid to pick up your tickets from a machine at a station FFS, instead providing a free ‘e-ticket’ option enabling the lucky holder to print out and carry around with them a dog-eared piece of A4, and have to produce their credit card to verify it for some reason. I’ve nothing against the concept of e-tickets, but personally I’d rather have the choice to have a credit card sized ticket that I can keep in my wallet, and I don’t want to be forced down the e-ticket route by a financial penalty. I’ve only fallen foul of this once (a split fare, so TWO dog-eared pieces of A4!), and to avoid this again the ticket I was travelling on this time was booked through ATW who didn’t want a quid for me to collect it.
At Birmingham I strolled over to Snow Hill and boarded a 150 on the 13:37 to Dorridge as far as Solihull. Shack scratch for me at both ends of this run
I waited 8 minutes on Solihull’s somehow slightly inadequate feeling station for a 168 on the 14:03 to Marylebone (13:55 off Moor Street). This was my first go on a ‘Clubman’ and it’s just a 4-car 170 with nicer seats isn’t it? A short 11 minute run to Warwick Parkway was the final positioning move before loco-haulage began in earnest.
I had almost 40 minutes to kill at Warwick Parkway before the 14:52 to Moor Street, so I went for a pleasant walk around the quiet country lanes, although the buzz of traffic on the nearby A46 was ever present in the background. I must have walked for nearly half an hour with no more than three cars passing me, which was nice. The 14:52 was showing 5 minutes late, so a longer wait than planned at the Parkway’s somewhat spartan facilities. A shed thundered through northbound on what looked like empty cartics, and a brace of 220s also passed through in each direction, carrying their cargoes of suffering passengers towards Newcastle and Southampton respectively.
At 14:57 a DVT came into view around the corner at the head of the 13:20 Marylebone > Moor Street. Good. This would mean 67015 would be leading on the 15:55 return. I took a seat as close to the loco as possible, but someone was occupying the prime bashers’ seats in the unrefurbed mk III. Anyway, I could see the loco through the corridor connection in the coach end, and it was making quite a good bit of noise on start up. The journey to Moor Street took only 20 minutes and we were on time arriving at 15:17. I realised I hadn’t had any lunch so walked up to the city centre and found a Tesco. I was continually accosted by charity muggers (three times in a single minute at one point) during this short walk. Earlier in the day I’d seen them about while en route to Snow Hill, but had carefully evaded being caught in their tractor beams, even daringly asking one who tried to accost me if she could direct me to Snow Hill station before she had a chance to begin her spiel. I must have had my radar switched off this time though, or looked less of a tightwad perhaps, but suddenly I was being pounced on and chugged from all angles. I don’t like this because I don’t like being pressured into feeling bad about and signing up for something I haven’t thought properly about, nor do I like having to be rude to strangers. Anyway, feeling a bit like Legolas or Gimli slaying Orcs at Helm’s Deep, I managed to fight my way through this onslaught, not a single direct debit mandate having been signed, to get my prize of one of Tesco’s excellent value £2.50 meal deals.
Back at Moor Street I bagged the best of the bashers’ seats at a table by the front vestibule and settled down to enjoy the loco haulage. Got my head out leaving Moor Street and then again back at Warwick Parkway 20 minutes later. People were looking baffled at every station platform at this peculiar, silver train with weird doors that you actually have to open yourself! Why does this confuse people? Surely the handle is visibly a handle and I would guess that everyone has handles on their doors at home, on their cars etc. Or maybe I’m hopelessly behind the times here and most people have to push a button to open doors in their houses these days; standing around fuming while their husband/wife/father/mother/whoever runs into the cellar to put a little metal key thing into a hole and turn it so the button illuminates and the doors can be opened. Announcements explaining how to open the doors were given before each stop. This doesn’t happen on HSTs. More heads out at Leamington, after which we were treated to an exhilarating run on the long stretch to Banbury. This is the life. Mk IIIs. Loco haulage. Watching the world slip by with hardly a care in the world for a couple of hours. If it weren’t for cranking I think I’d be seriously messed up by the stresses of modern life!
Soon we were at Banbury and digging the excellent semaphores, before getting heads out one last time behind 67015. A good run to Aynho and beyond, arrving at Bicester a mere hour after leaving Moor Street, not too bad for a 57¼ mile run with 4 intermediate stops. Slightly under half an hour to wait in Bicester, which if not the most underwhelming place in England, is certainly not far behind. 67014 was on the rear of the 17:23 to Birmingham (16:30 off Marylebone), and left bang on time. Fortunately the bashers’ seats were unoccupied in the ex-WSMR mk III, but less fortunately the next bay was occupied by an attractive and smartly turned out yet incredibly drunk and very loud Yorkshirewoman of about 40. Her foul language and cackling laughter filled the carriage, but everyone was being terribly English about the whole business and pretending it wasn’t happening. She was travelling with two men in their twenties, and judging by the nature of what she was [loudly and lewdly] saying, one or more probably both of them were going to get lucky before the evening was out. Or perhaps unlucky is more like it if one imagines each of them waking up the next morning and staring into the void where his soul had been the day before. Anyway they got off the train (or rather fell off in the case of the ‘lady’) at Banbury, and I took it upon myself to apologise to the carriage on behalf of my county, and to assure them that we aren’t all like that. Whether they believed me or not I don’t know, but it helped lighten a fairly grumpy atmosphere!
More heads-out from Leamington, Parkway, Dorridge and Solihull before docking at platform 3 at Moor Street five early at 18:30. I bade farewell to skip 14 that had provided solid entertainment for the past hour and strolled over to platform 2 for the 18:36 to Worcester Shrub Hill, formed of 150012 and taken as far as Stourbridge Junction. Semi-fast thank God, so not quite such a grind as last time. This gives a dead connection at 19:09 into the branch working, but luckily 139002 was running a minute late so I was able to catch it without a 10 minute wait. During the day there are 6 clockface arrivals per hour at the Junction from the Birmingham direction, 4 of which have a dead connection into the branch. What’s going on here? Given that the length of the branch can just about be walked in the interval between departures, surely this is lunacy and shifting the times of the PPM back 2 minutes from xx: x9 to xx: x1 would sort this out. London Midland, I await your next timetable with interest.
The following morning I caught the 06:44 back to the Junction, where the monitors were displaying the ominous warning that a signalling problem at Worcester Shrub Hill was causing delays and alterations that could be expected to go on until at least 09:00! Nothing appeared to be running late because of this though, and I boarded the 06:51 to Foregate Street that actually arrived at its destination 2 early. The run in the 150 south of Kidderminster was a lot more fun than the stop-start section to the north, and we hurtled through Hartlebury and beyond at 70+. At Foregate Street the 07:30 London HST came and went on time, followed by the equally on time 170508 on the 07:43 to Hereford, which I boarded. What was the fictitious warning at Stourbridge Junction about then? Just teasing?
What a splendid station Great Malvern is, and what a splendid part of the world in general. I’d forgotten just how nice it is in fact, nestling on the side of a truly huge and striking hill, rising suddenly out of the plain of the River Severn. The last time I’d been here was over 11 years ago when on an induction programme for my current employer, and I went out with a van driver around Kidderminster, Malvern and Ludlow, which on a bright and snowy day was a stunning introduction to this semi-secret gem of England. We continued through more gorgeous countryside and pristine orchards until Hereford was reached 4 early at 08:32. Last time I was on the line itself had been sometime in the mid-80s on a Tyseley-based 116 with no bog all the way from Hereford to New Street via Stourbridge, so this is a situation where a 170 is definitely a massive improvement on past traction! Next move was 2-car 175006 on the 08:42 to Cardiff, which was worryingly full on arrival, but luckily about half the occupants bailed and things were just comfortable from then on. I left the train at Newport and 5 minutes later 57316 pulled into the same platform with the up WAG-Ex. I didn’t bother trying to find a seat on the quite full train and just played at being vestibule veg for the run into Cardiff Central, where I went out of the barriers to buy a Valleys Day Explorer ticket.
The last five trains had seen a gradual improvement in comfort standards, from a 139, to a 150, graduating to a 170 then a 175, finally reaching a crescendo with the wonderful mk IIf’s on the WAG-Ex. This progression was brought crashing sharply back down to Earth by the sight of 150264 on the 10:18 to Maesteg, taken all the way to the terminus for line grice from Bridgend onwards. Apart from loco-haulage, today was about clearing up Valley lines that have been opened since about 1986 when I did the lot in a day. The run up the valley from Bridgend was very pleasant and lush, although some of the communities served looked poverty-stricken to put it mildly. Straight back from Maesteg to Bridgend where I boarded a 142 + 143 combo on the 11:42 to Cardiff via Barry. More new line all the way on the 19 mile run to Barry, where I bailed to wait for the late running 12:19 to the Island. Trains on the branch are booked to arrive at the terminus one minute after the return working is booked to depart
so a seven minutes late departure from Barry didn’t bode well. This insurance policy of negative turnarounds in the public timetable is also to be seen at Wrexham Central, so is it an ATW thing? 150230 went back out 7 minutes late on the 12:25 to Merthyr Tydfil, and now I had to wait to see what would come in to form my 12:40 to Aberdare. I was hoping that in such a pacer stronghold as the Valleys I would stand a good chance of racking up some quality pacer mileage, but sadly my home for the next 160 minutes rolled in in the shape of 150280 
I took this all the way to Aberdare and back to Cardiff Queen Street. The run up the Cynon Valley is spectacular, but boy, this is a frustratingly slow and tedious journey. The more so as we passed a couple of pacers with ‘Aberdare’ on the front on the return journey, showing that 150s do not by any means have a monopoly on Aberdare/Merthyr runs. By the time I got back to Queen Street I was very ready to bail. I can’t believe that one day about 25 years ago I spent most of a day doing the whole lot as it stood then (Treherbert, Merthyr, Rhymney, Coryton, Bute Road, Penarth and Barry Island), all in the aforementioned 116s without bogs. I must have been driven mad!
A reminder of this Derby high-density suburban no bog hell was provided at Queen Street on the short run to Bute Road/Bay/whatever on the ATW bubble car, recently back in service after a long absence. Nowadays it’s a welcome curiosity viewed through the rosiest of rose-tinted spectacles, and who needs a toilet on a 2 minute journey (for some reason give twice that in the book)? For the second time today I was travelling in a single car oddity on a genuine short branch shuttle, all very Great Western if you ask me. I eschewed the chance of a second round trip on the 15:36 ex-Queen Street because I was ravenous and needed to find some grub. If ‘brunch’ is a combination of ‘breakfast’ and ‘lunch’, then what is the equivalent afternoon meal? Anyway, I got my lunner at McDonalds (again, sorry folks) and scoffed it before taking the 16:15 WAG-Ex back north. This is becoming a regular move home for me from this part of the world, and the run to Chester was as good as last time. Very full again (how about an extra TSO ATW?), and more cranks, with the usual insects bailing at Cwmbran. Somebody was even shouting ‘my lords!’ out of the window which helped recreate the atmosphere of old times! At Shrewsbury two more youthful cranks boarded and gave a very impressive display of highly elaborate flailing as a huge cloud of clag erupted from the ‘snatcher as it accelerated away once out of the station and on the straight towards Yorton. The journey home from Chester was very much as last time, and home was reached at about 22:50.
Incidentally, during the journey on the northbound WAG-Ex I overheard two normals saying to their travelling companions what a nice train this was. It’s a shame more people didn’t realise how nice mk IIs and mk IIIs were when they were commonplace, and when they were in the process of being [often prematurely] replaced by nasty things like Vomiters and Pendolinos and various species of often unsuitable DMU. It seems most people genuinely don’t appreciate what they’ve got till it’s gone.
Over 284 loco-hauled miles towards the Year of the Locomotive, plus 116 in a very nice HST environment and a couple of novelties in the shape of the 139 and 121. All in all a very successful and enjoyable trip.
At Birmingham I strolled over to Snow Hill and boarded a 150 on the 13:37 to Dorridge as far as Solihull. Shack scratch for me at both ends of this run
I waited 8 minutes on Solihull’s somehow slightly inadequate feeling station for a 168 on the 14:03 to Marylebone (13:55 off Moor Street). This was my first go on a ‘Clubman’ and it’s just a 4-car 170 with nicer seats isn’t it? A short 11 minute run to Warwick Parkway was the final positioning move before loco-haulage began in earnest.I had almost 40 minutes to kill at Warwick Parkway before the 14:52 to Moor Street, so I went for a pleasant walk around the quiet country lanes, although the buzz of traffic on the nearby A46 was ever present in the background. I must have walked for nearly half an hour with no more than three cars passing me, which was nice. The 14:52 was showing 5 minutes late, so a longer wait than planned at the Parkway’s somewhat spartan facilities. A shed thundered through northbound on what looked like empty cartics, and a brace of 220s also passed through in each direction, carrying their cargoes of suffering passengers towards Newcastle and Southampton respectively.
At 14:57 a DVT came into view around the corner at the head of the 13:20 Marylebone > Moor Street. Good. This would mean 67015 would be leading on the 15:55 return. I took a seat as close to the loco as possible, but someone was occupying the prime bashers’ seats in the unrefurbed mk III. Anyway, I could see the loco through the corridor connection in the coach end, and it was making quite a good bit of noise on start up. The journey to Moor Street took only 20 minutes and we were on time arriving at 15:17. I realised I hadn’t had any lunch so walked up to the city centre and found a Tesco. I was continually accosted by charity muggers (three times in a single minute at one point) during this short walk. Earlier in the day I’d seen them about while en route to Snow Hill, but had carefully evaded being caught in their tractor beams, even daringly asking one who tried to accost me if she could direct me to Snow Hill station before she had a chance to begin her spiel. I must have had my radar switched off this time though, or looked less of a tightwad perhaps, but suddenly I was being pounced on and chugged from all angles. I don’t like this because I don’t like being pressured into feeling bad about and signing up for something I haven’t thought properly about, nor do I like having to be rude to strangers. Anyway, feeling a bit like Legolas or Gimli slaying Orcs at Helm’s Deep, I managed to fight my way through this onslaught, not a single direct debit mandate having been signed, to get my prize of one of Tesco’s excellent value £2.50 meal deals.
Back at Moor Street I bagged the best of the bashers’ seats at a table by the front vestibule and settled down to enjoy the loco haulage. Got my head out leaving Moor Street and then again back at Warwick Parkway 20 minutes later. People were looking baffled at every station platform at this peculiar, silver train with weird doors that you actually have to open yourself! Why does this confuse people? Surely the handle is visibly a handle and I would guess that everyone has handles on their doors at home, on their cars etc. Or maybe I’m hopelessly behind the times here and most people have to push a button to open doors in their houses these days; standing around fuming while their husband/wife/father/mother/whoever runs into the cellar to put a little metal key thing into a hole and turn it so the button illuminates and the doors can be opened. Announcements explaining how to open the doors were given before each stop. This doesn’t happen on HSTs. More heads out at Leamington, after which we were treated to an exhilarating run on the long stretch to Banbury. This is the life. Mk IIIs. Loco haulage. Watching the world slip by with hardly a care in the world for a couple of hours. If it weren’t for cranking I think I’d be seriously messed up by the stresses of modern life!
Soon we were at Banbury and digging the excellent semaphores, before getting heads out one last time behind 67015. A good run to Aynho and beyond, arrving at Bicester a mere hour after leaving Moor Street, not too bad for a 57¼ mile run with 4 intermediate stops. Slightly under half an hour to wait in Bicester, which if not the most underwhelming place in England, is certainly not far behind. 67014 was on the rear of the 17:23 to Birmingham (16:30 off Marylebone), and left bang on time. Fortunately the bashers’ seats were unoccupied in the ex-WSMR mk III, but less fortunately the next bay was occupied by an attractive and smartly turned out yet incredibly drunk and very loud Yorkshirewoman of about 40. Her foul language and cackling laughter filled the carriage, but everyone was being terribly English about the whole business and pretending it wasn’t happening. She was travelling with two men in their twenties, and judging by the nature of what she was [loudly and lewdly] saying, one or more probably both of them were going to get lucky before the evening was out. Or perhaps unlucky is more like it if one imagines each of them waking up the next morning and staring into the void where his soul had been the day before. Anyway they got off the train (or rather fell off in the case of the ‘lady’) at Banbury, and I took it upon myself to apologise to the carriage on behalf of my county, and to assure them that we aren’t all like that. Whether they believed me or not I don’t know, but it helped lighten a fairly grumpy atmosphere!
More heads-out from Leamington, Parkway, Dorridge and Solihull before docking at platform 3 at Moor Street five early at 18:30. I bade farewell to skip 14 that had provided solid entertainment for the past hour and strolled over to platform 2 for the 18:36 to Worcester Shrub Hill, formed of 150012 and taken as far as Stourbridge Junction. Semi-fast thank God, so not quite such a grind as last time. This gives a dead connection at 19:09 into the branch working, but luckily 139002 was running a minute late so I was able to catch it without a 10 minute wait. During the day there are 6 clockface arrivals per hour at the Junction from the Birmingham direction, 4 of which have a dead connection into the branch. What’s going on here? Given that the length of the branch can just about be walked in the interval between departures, surely this is lunacy and shifting the times of the PPM back 2 minutes from xx: x9 to xx: x1 would sort this out. London Midland, I await your next timetable with interest.
The following morning I caught the 06:44 back to the Junction, where the monitors were displaying the ominous warning that a signalling problem at Worcester Shrub Hill was causing delays and alterations that could be expected to go on until at least 09:00! Nothing appeared to be running late because of this though, and I boarded the 06:51 to Foregate Street that actually arrived at its destination 2 early. The run in the 150 south of Kidderminster was a lot more fun than the stop-start section to the north, and we hurtled through Hartlebury and beyond at 70+. At Foregate Street the 07:30 London HST came and went on time, followed by the equally on time 170508 on the 07:43 to Hereford, which I boarded. What was the fictitious warning at Stourbridge Junction about then? Just teasing?
What a splendid station Great Malvern is, and what a splendid part of the world in general. I’d forgotten just how nice it is in fact, nestling on the side of a truly huge and striking hill, rising suddenly out of the plain of the River Severn. The last time I’d been here was over 11 years ago when on an induction programme for my current employer, and I went out with a van driver around Kidderminster, Malvern and Ludlow, which on a bright and snowy day was a stunning introduction to this semi-secret gem of England. We continued through more gorgeous countryside and pristine orchards until Hereford was reached 4 early at 08:32. Last time I was on the line itself had been sometime in the mid-80s on a Tyseley-based 116 with no bog all the way from Hereford to New Street via Stourbridge, so this is a situation where a 170 is definitely a massive improvement on past traction! Next move was 2-car 175006 on the 08:42 to Cardiff, which was worryingly full on arrival, but luckily about half the occupants bailed and things were just comfortable from then on. I left the train at Newport and 5 minutes later 57316 pulled into the same platform with the up WAG-Ex. I didn’t bother trying to find a seat on the quite full train and just played at being vestibule veg for the run into Cardiff Central, where I went out of the barriers to buy a Valleys Day Explorer ticket.
The last five trains had seen a gradual improvement in comfort standards, from a 139, to a 150, graduating to a 170 then a 175, finally reaching a crescendo with the wonderful mk IIf’s on the WAG-Ex. This progression was brought crashing sharply back down to Earth by the sight of 150264 on the 10:18 to Maesteg, taken all the way to the terminus for line grice from Bridgend onwards. Apart from loco-haulage, today was about clearing up Valley lines that have been opened since about 1986 when I did the lot in a day. The run up the valley from Bridgend was very pleasant and lush, although some of the communities served looked poverty-stricken to put it mildly. Straight back from Maesteg to Bridgend where I boarded a 142 + 143 combo on the 11:42 to Cardiff via Barry. More new line all the way on the 19 mile run to Barry, where I bailed to wait for the late running 12:19 to the Island. Trains on the branch are booked to arrive at the terminus one minute after the return working is booked to depart
so a seven minutes late departure from Barry didn’t bode well. This insurance policy of negative turnarounds in the public timetable is also to be seen at Wrexham Central, so is it an ATW thing? 150230 went back out 7 minutes late on the 12:25 to Merthyr Tydfil, and now I had to wait to see what would come in to form my 12:40 to Aberdare. I was hoping that in such a pacer stronghold as the Valleys I would stand a good chance of racking up some quality pacer mileage, but sadly my home for the next 160 minutes rolled in in the shape of 150280 I took this all the way to Aberdare and back to Cardiff Queen Street. The run up the Cynon Valley is spectacular, but boy, this is a frustratingly slow and tedious journey. The more so as we passed a couple of pacers with ‘Aberdare’ on the front on the return journey, showing that 150s do not by any means have a monopoly on Aberdare/Merthyr runs. By the time I got back to Queen Street I was very ready to bail. I can’t believe that one day about 25 years ago I spent most of a day doing the whole lot as it stood then (Treherbert, Merthyr, Rhymney, Coryton, Bute Road, Penarth and Barry Island), all in the aforementioned 116s without bogs. I must have been driven mad! A reminder of this Derby high-density suburban no bog hell was provided at Queen Street on the short run to Bute Road/Bay/whatever on the ATW bubble car, recently back in service after a long absence. Nowadays it’s a welcome curiosity viewed through the rosiest of rose-tinted spectacles, and who needs a toilet on a 2 minute journey (for some reason give twice that in the book)? For the second time today I was travelling in a single car oddity on a genuine short branch shuttle, all very Great Western if you ask me. I eschewed the chance of a second round trip on the 15:36 ex-Queen Street because I was ravenous and needed to find some grub. If ‘brunch’ is a combination of ‘breakfast’ and ‘lunch’, then what is the equivalent afternoon meal? Anyway, I got my lunner at McDonalds (again, sorry folks) and scoffed it before taking the 16:15 WAG-Ex back north. This is becoming a regular move home for me from this part of the world, and the run to Chester was as good as last time. Very full again (how about an extra TSO ATW?), and more cranks, with the usual insects bailing at Cwmbran. Somebody was even shouting ‘my lords!’ out of the window which helped recreate the atmosphere of old times! At Shrewsbury two more youthful cranks boarded and gave a very impressive display of highly elaborate flailing as a huge cloud of clag erupted from the ‘snatcher as it accelerated away once out of the station and on the straight towards Yorton. The journey home from Chester was very much as last time, and home was reached at about 22:50.
Incidentally, during the journey on the northbound WAG-Ex I overheard two normals saying to their travelling companions what a nice train this was. It’s a shame more people didn’t realise how nice mk IIs and mk IIIs were when they were commonplace, and when they were in the process of being [often prematurely] replaced by nasty things like Vomiters and Pendolinos and various species of often unsuitable DMU. It seems most people genuinely don’t appreciate what they’ve got till it’s gone.
Over 284 loco-hauled miles towards the Year of the Locomotive, plus 116 in a very nice HST environment and a couple of novelties in the shape of the 139 and 121. All in all a very successful and enjoyable trip.
Blindtraveler
Established Member
- Joined
- 28 Feb 2011
- Messages
- 10,544
fantastic reports both from today and June 23rd! Ta for them. Must giv the wag a go.
sprinterguy
Veteran Member
I can sympathise with your frustrations over 150s on the Valley Lines 4SRKT: I had a weekend in South Wales in February based in Merthyr, so I was looking forward to maybe reacquainting myself with the 143s that left my native north east so many years ago. Much to my disappointment, the Merthyr line seems to be entirely 150 worked! Though overall that's definitely a good thing for the inhabitants of the Welsh valleys. Meanwhile, on a trip over to Caerphilly that I did (Not on the train) there were Pacers aplenty!
Great Malvern does indeed have a very nice station, in fact that area in general is very pleasant. I like to have a day on the Malverns every once in a while, very enjoyable.
It's certainly good to see the introduction of loco hauled services on the Chiltern line, especially given my semi-regular forays to Leamington and Banbury, but it's a shame that it had to come at the expense of the Wrexham and Shropshire operation.
Great Malvern does indeed have a very nice station, in fact that area in general is very pleasant. I like to have a day on the Malverns every once in a while, very enjoyable.
It's certainly good to see the introduction of loco hauled services on the Chiltern line, especially given my semi-regular forays to Leamington and Banbury, but it's a shame that it had to come at the expense of the Wrexham and Shropshire operation.
Techniquest
Veteran Member
Sounds like you had a fantastic couple of days away from work and on the rails! I must admit to grinning when I saw you got only 150s on the Valleys, I'd have quite appreciated that personally! Shame for a Pacer enthusiast of course!
Good bit of progress towards having completed the UK rail network I should think now too
Good bit of progress towards having completed the UK rail network I should think now too
21st – 27th July saw several days on the rails without much of a break. The first instalment was a reprise of the Rannoch move of a couple of months ago. This was so good and such a reasonably priced way to spend an evening that I needed to do it again while there was still sufficient light in the evenings to make it worthwhile. The meeting I was doing this on the back of was scheduled for Thursday 21st July, meaning I would travel to Airdrie by train by the new 05:56 Leeds > Carlisle working, which handily calls at Saltaire and is an excellent improvement for West Yorkshire > Scotland business travellers. I would then kip in the spare bed in my bashing colleague’s hotel room in central Glasgow before taking the 04:28 Glasgow > Euston as far as Carlisle and the corresponding new S&C southbound working to Leeds, enabling me to be at my desk at Morley by just after 9 having commuted from Glasgow! Sure beats the bl**dy M62!
However, two spanners were put in the works. The first being the meeting in Scotland was put back a day and was now in Perth on a Friday (!), and the second being my boss arranged a meeting in Morley for the Thursday that wouldn’t finish until 13:30. With the evening Fort William train due off Queen Street at 18:21 this looked tight. Indeed it is completely impossible to finish a meeting at our office at 13:30 and be at Glasgow for 18:21 by rail. This looked bad, especially with a hotel check in to do, but with advance Helensburgh > Rannoch > Helensburgh tickets already bought we got our thinking caps on. My mate was positioning his caravan for his holiday in the Shetlands via a series of meetings, and was going to be travelling north to Airdrie by this mode. In the evening he was going to take the train from Airdrie into town to check into the hotel, meet me and catch the 18:21. However, he was delayed setting off by work, and was making slow progress with the caravan in tow. I leapt into my car after my meeting was over and drove for all I was worth. The intention was to drive straight to the hotel, but in communication with my mate it was clear he wasn’t going to get to Airdrie in time to park up, get a lift the 3 miles to the station, take the train into town, check into the hotel and still make the 18:21. I was making such good time that I turned right off the M74 at Junction 5 and headed for the depot to pick him up, and arrived there at 16:50, having taken only 3 hrs 20 to cover 250 miles. It took less than 20 minutes to drive into town through torrential rain, where we checked into the hotel and went for a pint before the train.
The 18:21 left on time as we cracked open the first beers and relaxed to drink in both beer and views. The weather was much improved over last time and the journey was as stunning as ever. No delays this time and at Rannoch I remembered to get a shot of 67009 on the sleeper before we boarded. We leant out of the window all the way south to Crianlarich, and boy, was it good. My mate has a serious problem with all things GM, but even he had to admit that while he thought the skip sounded ‘clinical’, there was an impressive noise on start up, loads of clag, and a very pleasing dieselly smell. By now our beer had run out and we were starving hungry. We went to the lounge car where the steward somewhat reluctantly served us a plate of haggis each, with more beer. He was most insistent that once we’d eaten our grub we went back to the seated coach (in his mind all too obviously ‘third class’ on this train), lest we pollute the atmosphere of the lounge car for its other three occupants. We duly took our second beers back to the most comfortable third class coach in history, where I leant out a bit more in the very dim light to take in the silhouettes of the mountain tops against the sky. Unfortunately a rather stout piece of lineside vegetation knocked my plastic beer glass out of my hand, depriving me of a couple of inches of beer. Remember kiddies, leaning out of the window is VERY DANGEROUS INDEED and practised only by foolish bashers, who every now and then are punished like this for their misdemeanours
There can be no doubt that this evening spin to Rannoch is an excellent way to pass 6 hours, and much better than sitting in the bar in the sort of hotel my employer books for us, full of Burberry Apes and aggressive manual workers (as well as miserable employees of cheapskate companies such as mine), or eating and drinking in an expensive and soulless restaurant, glazing over while listening to crashing bores talking about golf, BMWs, office politics etc. Doing the Rannoch move gonzo is even better than sober, and we both agreed that we would do this again next year as close to Midsummer as possible. At five to midnight we bailed at Westerton along with 5 others, which seemed more than usual. A 3-car 170 rolled in, providing about 7 times the entire seating capacity of the sleeper for the run into Queen St. TBH I had half expected this working to be a taxi given the loads I’ve seen for it in the past, so was surprised to see a 3-car set laid on.
The following morning I drove us to Airdrie early doors, where we changed into my mate’s Range Rover for the run to Perth, caravan in tow. After the meeting I left him in Perth to wait for his wife and son arriving later on the Highland Chieftain, and caught the 14:15 to Glasgow formed of a less-than-glamorous 3-car SPT 170, which at least provided a venue for an hour’s kip. I descended to the low level platforms and took a 334 on an express working to Airdrie, a huge improvement over the every-blade-of-grass working I used last time. I drove home somewhat more slowly than I had come north, but still fairly fast due to the lack of traffic on the M74, surely Britain’s most fun motorway to drive on.
Next move was on Sunday 24th July. I had promised to take my 9 year old son on the sleeper in May for a birthday treat, but due to my wife’s bad back this had to be scrapped at the time I needed to organise it. By the time I got around to trying to book it again ScotRail were looking for (very) silly prices to go to Fort William in the summer holidays, so I canned that I rang up FGW instead. I know from previous enjoyable experience that you can get a solo cabin to Penzance for £49 advance, so I rang up to enquire what was the best deal they could give me for an adult and child in a 2-berth cabin. “£122 sir” came the answer. “I’m sorry?” I replied, “I know I can go on my own for £49”. He then looked up the price of 2 solo cabins with interconnecting doors and can back with a price of £73.50 for the pair. Once I’d picked up my jaw from the floor I asked him to explain how it could be nearly £50 cheaper to occupy twice as much space, but of course he couldn’t. ‘Yield Management’ is a concept apparently lost on FGW.
Come the morning of departure the lad was getting pretty excited. I don’t think he’d slept that much, which was a mistake because we had a gruelling couple of days ahead. We took a 333 into Leeds for 91131 on the 12:05 to the Cross. The coach we were in had a failed aircon unit, which on a hot day was very uncomfortable indeed. I was very disappointed that the grip did not acknowledge this and apologise, or preferably issue complimentary bottles of water to the benighted inhabitants of coach D. Still, as he never even came round to check tickets at any point in the journey he was probably completely unaware of the problem. I’m annoyed that my boy’s first train journey to London was summed up by his saying “I hate this train” as we pulled into the Cross (on the slows all the way from Hatfield BTW). Grrrr. Anyway, at least I can now be certain where he will stand on the controversial pressure ventilation vs. aircons on railtours debate! Now with all the water we’d brought with us drunk on the journey south, we did a whirlwind tour of London, taking in the Imperial War Museum, Houses of Parliament, Buckingham Palace, Abbey Road for the famous zebra crossing, Clapham Junction for some hot choo-choo action, and Tower Bridge before landing up in Chinatown for a meal. Phew! After this we strolled to Piccadilly Circus and took the Bakerloo Line to Paddington for the sleeper. We were a few minutes early so we went and took a look at 57603 at the head before returning to find there was a problem printing off the berthing lists, so we were invited to wait in the first class lounge where we gave the complimentary drinks and snacks some punishment. Once we were allowed to board (20 minutes late) the lad’s excitement levels went through the ceiling. He took a while to settle down, but had finally dropped off by the time I went to the vestibule for heads out leaving the terminus. The advantage of taking a child on a Sunday night is that the sleeper is given an hour longer, so it’s a bit more restful in the morning. I did the usual wondering about what route the sleeper would take, but when I awoke at 02:41 to find us stationary, I looked out to see we were at Exeter, where we were not due off until 04:05! There could be no doubt about the route now; only the Desert could have got us there in that time. However, the train is booked to call at Bristol Temple Meads on Monday mornings at 02:55, so clearly that didn’t happen!
Back to sleep and awoken again at half six by a clumsy lurch pulling away from Plymouth. No problem though as I could now go to the vestibule to enjoy the majestic entrance to Cornwall over the Tamar Bridge. The lad woke up at about 07:30 and breakfast came at 08:00. We bailed at Penzance five early at 08:54 and strolled across the platform for a 150/2 + 150/1 combo on the 08:57 through working to St Ives. Clearly, if the sleeper ever actually does arrive ‘on time’ on a Monday morning at 08:59, the 08:57 will have to depart late due to the last 1½ miles of the West of England main line being single track.
The 150 rattled us along to St Ives where it was a bit misty when we arrived at 09:21. No grip en route, presumably due to him being stuck in the 150/1 and unable to get to the passengers in the 150/2. Can’t FGW roster a pair of 150/2s for this 4-car summer working? If I ever stoop so low as to become a crossover basher, I’ll now be able to tick off the connection from the main line to the St Ives branch at St Erth We spent a very enjoyable morning doing beach stuff, buying rock and ice cream, capping it off with excellent fish and chips before the 12:33 train back to St Erth. I’m glad we left when we did, as by this time the tide was coming in, and the place was getting seriously congested in the way that only small Cornish seaside towns can. At St Erth a 153+150/1 combo (more problems for the grip being unable to get from one unit to the other: where are all the 150/2s?) arrived heading towards Penzance, running 15 minutes late. As this was the stock for our 12:54 Penzance > Newton Abbot, affording a 9-minute connection at Plymouth into the 15:00 London train, late running was a concern. Sure enough the 13:03 departure from St Erth left five late, and any time made up en route was lost at several intermediate stations where cyclists were trying to board the train with their contraptions. Still, we arrived at Plymouth in time for a cross-platform onto the 15:00. The 153 was detached from the set at Plymouth, where it was presumably then attached to the next 150 going back to the Zance. On the 15:00 I brought the lad to the vestibule for heads-out from Teignmouth to Starcross, which he enjoyed immensely. We swapped briefly to the up side at Dawlish Warren so I could point out the camping coaches where my family spent holidays in the 1980s. He started getting a bit carried away with the bellowing though and eventually got reeled in by the guard. Anyway, he had taken some amusing photos of himself with his hair streaming and wind whipping at his face.
We left the FGW HST at Taunton, now running 6 late due to the volume of suitcases being loaded at intermediate stops. FGW have a very sensible policy on busy holiday trains of heading people off on the platforms and getting them to put their large bags onto a trolley, which are then loaded into the TGS. It’d be chaos otherwise. We now had a reduced amount of time to find a shop to get our evening meal, in a town where I’d never been before. It didn’t look promising as we left the station foyer, and it quickly became clear that the only option was a small newsagent-cum-convenience store a couple of minutes away. Well, not the only option: we could always have braved the financial horrors of the buffet car, but giving Cross Country any more money that is 100% necessary is not something I’m prepared to do as long as any option short of starvation is on the table, so we stocked up on drinks, food and snacks for the long haul to Leeds on the 16:54.
Carefully selected by me to avoid Voyagers (still only been on two all year), the 16:54 XC HST was a nice way to travel home, especially beyond Birmingham whence it was considerably less than half full. I’d broken the journey at Taunton because it’s cheaper. FGW advance tickets are cheaper than XC’s, so coming out of Cornwall it pays to go as far as you can on an FGW advance before splitting onto a XC one. This has the added advantage when travelling with a young child of boarding the 15:23 Plymouth > Leeds an hour and a half into its journey, so the trip is broken up and boredom less of a problem. The lad was intrigued by the toilet paper and turds all over the track at Taunton station, and clearly thought that it is somewhat backward flushing straight onto the PW. I suppose he’s right; you don’t see human faeces lying about anywhere else, do you? Although XC have made a considerable effort to make the interior of their HSTs look as much like a Voyager as possible, it is still impossible for them to disguise the unpalatable fact that this 35 year old train is a vastly superior product. They need to work harder on getting the disgusting smells right if they want to imitate Voyagers more realistically. Possibly the more airy and less plasticky environment of the HST helped one very tired little lad do astonishingly well being stuck on a train for nearly 4¼ hours without getting really bored. Frankly I’d expect to be had up by Social Services if I’d made a child spend 251 minutes on a Vomiter. Still, I have to admit that the dark red moquette used by XC on second class seats on all their trains gives a very pleasing internal appearance. We arrived at Leeds a couple of minutes late after a signals farce near Swinton and boarded the 21:26 Skipton train for the last leg, bringing the total mileage to just over 960 for the two days, 491 of which were loco-hauled and a large proportion of the remainder on HSTs. I’ll have to get the lad his own moves book!
A very early start the next morning saw me on the 06:08 from Shipley running into Leeds, bafflingly 6 minutes late despite being the first working of the day. How did Northern manage to cock up the very first train out of Bradford, unable even to grant themselves the excuse of a knock-on from an earlier late running service? The 333 did the 10¾ miles from Shipley in a record breaking 10 minutes though, giving a very creditable on time arrival at Leeds. This trip was an almost carbon copy of my recent visit to our Weybridge depot, taking the EMT VP185s (43045/43067) on the 06:34 to St Pancras and then on via 455 power to Byfleet & New Haw, so I won’t bore anyone with the details of the run. Only point of note was that my London drinking companion and I met the actress Ruth Wilson (of recent Jane Eyre and Luther fame) in our by this time regular the Charles Dickens in SE1. She was very nice but got a bit drunk as the evening wore on, and was quite sweary and sharp tongued, which is not something I really mind anyway She accused me of being old for calling GCSEs ’’O’ Levels’ (although as I slightly anally pointed out the first cohort of GCSE-takers would be 39 years old by now), and she didn’t believe that my hair is the colour it is because I’d recently been painting a ceiling. Ah well. Also noted was that the pints in the Charles Dickens have all gone up another 5p to £3.25
The journey home was behind 91121 on the 16:33 ‘Flatulence Express’ from the Cross to Leeds. A no-show by the passenger who’d booked the seat next to mine ensured a very comfortable journey north. No mysterious farting this time to add unwanted spice to the journey, which mostly passed off very smoothly. We annoyingly crawled through Peterborough at <20 mph again, so maybe this train ought to just stop there and be done with it. Despite this the train arrived seven early at Leeds leaving plenty of time for a leisurely stroll the short distance to platform 5 for the booked plus two into the 18:54 Skipton train to Saltaire and home.
However, two spanners were put in the works. The first being the meeting in Scotland was put back a day and was now in Perth on a Friday (!), and the second being my boss arranged a meeting in Morley for the Thursday that wouldn’t finish until 13:30. With the evening Fort William train due off Queen Street at 18:21 this looked tight. Indeed it is completely impossible to finish a meeting at our office at 13:30 and be at Glasgow for 18:21 by rail. This looked bad, especially with a hotel check in to do, but with advance Helensburgh > Rannoch > Helensburgh tickets already bought we got our thinking caps on. My mate was positioning his caravan for his holiday in the Shetlands via a series of meetings, and was going to be travelling north to Airdrie by this mode. In the evening he was going to take the train from Airdrie into town to check into the hotel, meet me and catch the 18:21. However, he was delayed setting off by work, and was making slow progress with the caravan in tow. I leapt into my car after my meeting was over and drove for all I was worth. The intention was to drive straight to the hotel, but in communication with my mate it was clear he wasn’t going to get to Airdrie in time to park up, get a lift the 3 miles to the station, take the train into town, check into the hotel and still make the 18:21. I was making such good time that I turned right off the M74 at Junction 5 and headed for the depot to pick him up, and arrived there at 16:50, having taken only 3 hrs 20 to cover 250 miles. It took less than 20 minutes to drive into town through torrential rain, where we checked into the hotel and went for a pint before the train.
The 18:21 left on time as we cracked open the first beers and relaxed to drink in both beer and views. The weather was much improved over last time and the journey was as stunning as ever. No delays this time and at Rannoch I remembered to get a shot of 67009 on the sleeper before we boarded. We leant out of the window all the way south to Crianlarich, and boy, was it good. My mate has a serious problem with all things GM, but even he had to admit that while he thought the skip sounded ‘clinical’, there was an impressive noise on start up, loads of clag, and a very pleasing dieselly smell. By now our beer had run out and we were starving hungry. We went to the lounge car where the steward somewhat reluctantly served us a plate of haggis each, with more beer. He was most insistent that once we’d eaten our grub we went back to the seated coach (in his mind all too obviously ‘third class’ on this train), lest we pollute the atmosphere of the lounge car for its other three occupants. We duly took our second beers back to the most comfortable third class coach in history, where I leant out a bit more in the very dim light to take in the silhouettes of the mountain tops against the sky. Unfortunately a rather stout piece of lineside vegetation knocked my plastic beer glass out of my hand, depriving me of a couple of inches of beer. Remember kiddies, leaning out of the window is VERY DANGEROUS INDEED and practised only by foolish bashers, who every now and then are punished like this for their misdemeanours
There can be no doubt that this evening spin to Rannoch is an excellent way to pass 6 hours, and much better than sitting in the bar in the sort of hotel my employer books for us, full of Burberry Apes and aggressive manual workers (as well as miserable employees of cheapskate companies such as mine), or eating and drinking in an expensive and soulless restaurant, glazing over while listening to crashing bores talking about golf, BMWs, office politics etc. Doing the Rannoch move gonzo is even better than sober, and we both agreed that we would do this again next year as close to Midsummer as possible. At five to midnight we bailed at Westerton along with 5 others, which seemed more than usual. A 3-car 170 rolled in, providing about 7 times the entire seating capacity of the sleeper for the run into Queen St. TBH I had half expected this working to be a taxi given the loads I’ve seen for it in the past, so was surprised to see a 3-car set laid on.
The following morning I drove us to Airdrie early doors, where we changed into my mate’s Range Rover for the run to Perth, caravan in tow. After the meeting I left him in Perth to wait for his wife and son arriving later on the Highland Chieftain, and caught the 14:15 to Glasgow formed of a less-than-glamorous 3-car SPT 170, which at least provided a venue for an hour’s kip. I descended to the low level platforms and took a 334 on an express working to Airdrie, a huge improvement over the every-blade-of-grass working I used last time. I drove home somewhat more slowly than I had come north, but still fairly fast due to the lack of traffic on the M74, surely Britain’s most fun motorway to drive on.
Next move was on Sunday 24th July. I had promised to take my 9 year old son on the sleeper in May for a birthday treat, but due to my wife’s bad back this had to be scrapped at the time I needed to organise it. By the time I got around to trying to book it again ScotRail were looking for (very) silly prices to go to Fort William in the summer holidays, so I canned that I rang up FGW instead. I know from previous enjoyable experience that you can get a solo cabin to Penzance for £49 advance, so I rang up to enquire what was the best deal they could give me for an adult and child in a 2-berth cabin. “£122 sir” came the answer. “I’m sorry?” I replied, “I know I can go on my own for £49”. He then looked up the price of 2 solo cabins with interconnecting doors and can back with a price of £73.50 for the pair. Once I’d picked up my jaw from the floor I asked him to explain how it could be nearly £50 cheaper to occupy twice as much space, but of course he couldn’t. ‘Yield Management’ is a concept apparently lost on FGW.
Come the morning of departure the lad was getting pretty excited. I don’t think he’d slept that much, which was a mistake because we had a gruelling couple of days ahead. We took a 333 into Leeds for 91131 on the 12:05 to the Cross. The coach we were in had a failed aircon unit, which on a hot day was very uncomfortable indeed. I was very disappointed that the grip did not acknowledge this and apologise, or preferably issue complimentary bottles of water to the benighted inhabitants of coach D. Still, as he never even came round to check tickets at any point in the journey he was probably completely unaware of the problem. I’m annoyed that my boy’s first train journey to London was summed up by his saying “I hate this train” as we pulled into the Cross (on the slows all the way from Hatfield BTW). Grrrr. Anyway, at least I can now be certain where he will stand on the controversial pressure ventilation vs. aircons on railtours debate! Now with all the water we’d brought with us drunk on the journey south, we did a whirlwind tour of London, taking in the Imperial War Museum, Houses of Parliament, Buckingham Palace, Abbey Road for the famous zebra crossing, Clapham Junction for some hot choo-choo action, and Tower Bridge before landing up in Chinatown for a meal. Phew! After this we strolled to Piccadilly Circus and took the Bakerloo Line to Paddington for the sleeper. We were a few minutes early so we went and took a look at 57603 at the head before returning to find there was a problem printing off the berthing lists, so we were invited to wait in the first class lounge where we gave the complimentary drinks and snacks some punishment. Once we were allowed to board (20 minutes late) the lad’s excitement levels went through the ceiling. He took a while to settle down, but had finally dropped off by the time I went to the vestibule for heads out leaving the terminus. The advantage of taking a child on a Sunday night is that the sleeper is given an hour longer, so it’s a bit more restful in the morning. I did the usual wondering about what route the sleeper would take, but when I awoke at 02:41 to find us stationary, I looked out to see we were at Exeter, where we were not due off until 04:05! There could be no doubt about the route now; only the Desert could have got us there in that time. However, the train is booked to call at Bristol Temple Meads on Monday mornings at 02:55, so clearly that didn’t happen!
Back to sleep and awoken again at half six by a clumsy lurch pulling away from Plymouth. No problem though as I could now go to the vestibule to enjoy the majestic entrance to Cornwall over the Tamar Bridge. The lad woke up at about 07:30 and breakfast came at 08:00. We bailed at Penzance five early at 08:54 and strolled across the platform for a 150/2 + 150/1 combo on the 08:57 through working to St Ives. Clearly, if the sleeper ever actually does arrive ‘on time’ on a Monday morning at 08:59, the 08:57 will have to depart late due to the last 1½ miles of the West of England main line being single track.
The 150 rattled us along to St Ives where it was a bit misty when we arrived at 09:21. No grip en route, presumably due to him being stuck in the 150/1 and unable to get to the passengers in the 150/2. Can’t FGW roster a pair of 150/2s for this 4-car summer working? If I ever stoop so low as to become a crossover basher, I’ll now be able to tick off the connection from the main line to the St Ives branch at St Erth
We spent a very enjoyable morning doing beach stuff, buying rock and ice cream, capping it off with excellent fish and chips before the 12:33 train back to St Erth. I’m glad we left when we did, as by this time the tide was coming in, and the place was getting seriously congested in the way that only small Cornish seaside towns can. At St Erth a 153+150/1 combo (more problems for the grip being unable to get from one unit to the other: where are all the 150/2s?) arrived heading towards Penzance, running 15 minutes late. As this was the stock for our 12:54 Penzance > Newton Abbot, affording a 9-minute connection at Plymouth into the 15:00 London train, late running was a concern. Sure enough the 13:03 departure from St Erth left five late, and any time made up en route was lost at several intermediate stations where cyclists were trying to board the train with their contraptions. Still, we arrived at Plymouth in time for a cross-platform onto the 15:00. The 153 was detached from the set at Plymouth, where it was presumably then attached to the next 150 going back to the Zance. On the 15:00 I brought the lad to the vestibule for heads-out from Teignmouth to Starcross, which he enjoyed immensely. We swapped briefly to the up side at Dawlish Warren so I could point out the camping coaches where my family spent holidays in the 1980s. He started getting a bit carried away with the bellowing though and eventually got reeled in by the guard. Anyway, he had taken some amusing photos of himself with his hair streaming and wind whipping at his face.We left the FGW HST at Taunton, now running 6 late due to the volume of suitcases being loaded at intermediate stops. FGW have a very sensible policy on busy holiday trains of heading people off on the platforms and getting them to put their large bags onto a trolley, which are then loaded into the TGS. It’d be chaos otherwise. We now had a reduced amount of time to find a shop to get our evening meal, in a town where I’d never been before. It didn’t look promising as we left the station foyer, and it quickly became clear that the only option was a small newsagent-cum-convenience store a couple of minutes away. Well, not the only option: we could always have braved the financial horrors of the buffet car, but giving Cross Country any more money that is 100% necessary is not something I’m prepared to do as long as any option short of starvation is on the table, so we stocked up on drinks, food and snacks for the long haul to Leeds on the 16:54.
Carefully selected by me to avoid Voyagers (still only been on two all year
), the 16:54 XC HST was a nice way to travel home, especially beyond Birmingham whence it was considerably less than half full. I’d broken the journey at Taunton because it’s cheaper. FGW advance tickets are cheaper than XC’s, so coming out of Cornwall it pays to go as far as you can on an FGW advance before splitting onto a XC one. This has the added advantage when travelling with a young child of boarding the 15:23 Plymouth > Leeds an hour and a half into its journey, so the trip is broken up and boredom less of a problem. The lad was intrigued by the toilet paper and turds all over the track at Taunton station, and clearly thought that it is somewhat backward flushing straight onto the PW. I suppose he’s right; you don’t see human faeces lying about anywhere else, do you? Although XC have made a considerable effort to make the interior of their HSTs look as much like a Voyager as possible, it is still impossible for them to disguise the unpalatable fact that this 35 year old train is a vastly superior product. They need to work harder on getting the disgusting smells right if they want to imitate Voyagers more realistically. Possibly the more airy and less plasticky environment of the HST helped one very tired little lad do astonishingly well being stuck on a train for nearly 4¼ hours without getting really bored. Frankly I’d expect to be had up by Social Services if I’d made a child spend 251 minutes on a Vomiter. Still, I have to admit that the dark red moquette used by XC on second class seats on all their trains gives a very pleasing internal appearance. We arrived at Leeds a couple of minutes late after a signals farce near Swinton and boarded the 21:26 Skipton train for the last leg, bringing the total mileage to just over 960 for the two days, 491 of which were loco-hauled and a large proportion of the remainder on HSTs. I’ll have to get the lad his own moves book!A very early start the next morning saw me on the 06:08 from Shipley running into Leeds, bafflingly 6 minutes late despite being the first working of the day. How did Northern manage to cock up the very first train out of Bradford, unable even to grant themselves the excuse of a knock-on from an earlier late running service? The 333 did the 10¾ miles from Shipley in a record breaking 10 minutes though, giving a very creditable on time arrival at Leeds. This trip was an almost carbon copy of my recent visit to our Weybridge depot, taking the EMT VP185s (43045/43067) on the 06:34 to St Pancras and then on via 455 power to Byfleet & New Haw, so I won’t bore anyone with the details of the run. Only point of note was that my London drinking companion and I met the actress Ruth Wilson (of recent Jane Eyre and Luther fame) in our by this time regular the Charles Dickens in SE1. She was very nice but got a bit drunk as the evening wore on, and was quite sweary and sharp tongued, which is not something I really mind anyway
She accused me of being old for calling GCSEs ’’O’ Levels’ (although as I slightly anally pointed out the first cohort of GCSE-takers would be 39 years old by now), and she didn’t believe that my hair is the colour it is because I’d recently been painting a ceiling. Ah well. Also noted was that the pints in the Charles Dickens have all gone up another 5p to £3.25 The journey home was behind 91121 on the 16:33 ‘Flatulence Express’ from the Cross to Leeds. A no-show by the passenger who’d booked the seat next to mine ensured a very comfortable journey north. No mysterious farting this time to add unwanted spice to the journey, which mostly passed off very smoothly. We annoyingly crawled through Peterborough at <20 mph again, so maybe this train ought to just stop there and be done with it. Despite this the train arrived seven early at Leeds leaving plenty of time for a leisurely stroll the short distance to platform 5 for the booked plus two into the 18:54 Skipton train to Saltaire and home.
Blindtraveler
Established Member
- Joined
- 28 Feb 2011
- Messages
- 10,544
waw wel done makin that sleaper move work twice! Great you also, like me are enjoying the airdry fasts, to come through to EDB takes 10 or so mins longer but because its not a wedged 170 and esp at the mo you can open the windows its worth it! Dont object to the turbostars as much as you, but0dislike muchly when crouded and the scotrail fleat or at least the first batch are in n3d of s6e work. The ìghland mainline working to EDB i was on 2 weeks ago smelt as bad as an XC voyaher! best birthday prezzy ever! envyous myself
and i'm 26! Another v entertaining read. Thankyou!
and i'm 26! Another v entertaining read. Thankyou!
Techniquest
Veteran Member
Stunning read, I did wonder where you'd been lately! Very busy chap by the looks of it, as always a good humourous read. Good to hear your boy enjoyed the trip, must admit the comment about taking him on a Voyager really made me laugh!
Never heard anyone describe a 67 as 'clinical' before, and well done for getting to Scotland that fast!
Never heard anyone describe a 67 as 'clinical' before, and well done for getting to Scotland that fast!
Drsatan
Established Member
A very good read! Yes, XC's HSTs are vastly superior to their Voyagers namely because there's no underseat rumble from the engines and no foul smells emanating from the aircon! I travelled on one from Exeter St D to Birmingham NS one evening; the journey was even better because I didn't have access to XC's HST diagrams and didn't expect the journey to be an HST working.
The last time I bashed the St Ives branch in June, the train working the branch was a pair of 150/2s.
The last time I bashed the St Ives branch in June, the train working the branch was a pair of 150/2s.
Do you think FGW regard their 150s as a common fleet, so all that Laira are booked to provide for St Ives is a pair of 150s, rather than a pair of 150/2s? You would have thought that in summer they'd make sure that the other branches were booked for a 150/1 just to keep them out of the way, although I am aware that Penzance and Gunnislake workings off Plymouth are interwoven so it'd be hard to quarantine a 150/1 on the branch. The loss of revenue between St Erth, [especially] Lelant Saltings, and St Ives when a mixed 150/1+150/2 or 2x150/1 combo is put on must be substantial.
16th August. Having had my farewell to the NIR 80 class in April, I couldn’t resist going back for one more go when the opportunity arose. My wife took the kids for a few days in Filey with a friend, so I seized the chance to do it again before it really is too late. I drove the family to Filey on the Monday afternoon, and spent the first night there helping out. After lunch on the 16th my wife drove me to Seamer station for the 13:53, which I rode (suffering silently on a 185) to Leeds. I nipped along to Shipley on a 333 to get a shower, change of clothes, tea etc, before returning for the 18:08 to Carlisle, formed of 158848. The weather was gorgeous, and after Hellifield I had a table to myself to spread out and enjoy the wonderful views as we headed north into the setting sun. At Carlisle I spent half an hour drinking in the cool evening atmosphere in this cathedral of railways, the quiet broken for a few minutes by DRS 57011 and 57007 on three flasks making an enormous racket in platform 1. I then boarded a 156 on the 21:12 to Glasgow Central, taken as far as Kilmarnock. Beyond Dumfries there were only 4 other passengers on board. At Kilmarnock I did a cross-platform interchange into the 23:10 to Stranraer. This was surprisingly well loaded between Ayr and Girvan, with Maybole also doing good business, but beyond Girvan there were only 6 of us aboard. This was my first go on a Saltire liveried 156, and the internal décor is very nice, although I’m not sure about why the seats are covered in lipstick marks.
At Stranraer at 01:00 2 of the 6 passengers headed for the long walk into the town, while the remaining 4 of us went towards what we thought was the terminal. The building displaying the illuminated sign ‘departures’ was well and truly locked, so we had to follow the 2 locals into town to get to the terminal at the port entrance. I haven’t been to Stranraer as a foot passenger for years, and this was all profoundly depressing. I reflected that as someone who has been using this crossing all my life I have witnessed the three phases of degradation of service for rail and foot passengers. When I was a child you got off a proper train (10:00 ex-Euston for example, formed of 10 mk IIs) with hundreds of other people and went straight into the ferry terminal which was on the platform. To get on the boat you simply walked across the quay and went up the gangplank. By my late teens the train had got shorter, typically a 4-car 156 (although well loaded), and the situation had been ‘improved’ by the addition of that terminal building that was so forbiddingly locked in the small hours of Wednesday morning. As well as a longer walk, this ‘improvement’ was accompanied by the addition of a plastic tube to funnel the passengers up to the bow vehicle loading doors, rather than a gangplank into the ship’s side. Finally, the situation is that four rail passengers had to walk nearly quarter of a mile to the terminal, before being driven onto the 03:30 boat in a bus. Quite apart from the additional distances involved, implicit in these three phases is an assumption that adults must be treated like children who cannot be trusted to walk up a gangplank, or latterly even a plastic tube. Still, at least there is still a connection of sorts for a few more months, after which Stranraer will cease to be the principal port for Northern Ireland after more than 150 years. A terrible, terrible shame, and a damning indictment on our society’s lazy addiction to the motor car
After sleeping on the boat, I disembarked at Belfast, surprisingly walking down a plastic tube and not using a bus, which was nice. Still, we had to wait until the vehicle deck was empty, even though there is a fenced off section for pedestrians on the ramp. Why? The three phases of degradation for foot passengers can also be seen on the Northern Ireland side, where in my childhood you landed at Larne and boarded a train that went right into the terminal. This then changed to berthing at Belfast docks, which was less convenient for foot passengers, but still much better than the current arrangements where Stena use a berth at the very end of the port, a huge distance away, forcing a three mile walk even to the port entrance, or the use of buses or taxis (and hence extra ching). Leaving the terminal somewhere opposite Whiteabbey, pedestrians first have to walk out towards the sea before turning back to walk towards the city centre, adding 5 minutes to an already long walk. Do the people who design these facilities have any idea what those two flesh covered bony things sticking out below their waists are actually for, other than pushing the pedals in their cars? The level of pedestrian unfriendliness in modern developments seems another sad reflection of our collective mental laziness. There isn’t even a map of Belfast in the arrivals hall at the Stena terminal, so confident are they that nobody is mad enough to want to walk. They may well have a point as I didn’t see a single other pedestrian on my walk to Yorkgate, although a map wouldn’t be expensive and would be a help to any other ‘eccentrics’ who want to use their legs. Above all it would show that Stena believe in offering some sort of choice of how to get to their incredibly remote terminal. En route I was passed by a grotesquely fat man driving a BMW, providing as good a metaphor as I could wish for for the consequences of contempt for walking and public transport.
At Yorkgate I was planning to take the 07:33 departure as far as Whitehead, but the inbound working towards Central was running 7 minutes late, so I boarded that and then took the 07:29 from Central, now 5 down. 457 was underperforming, with every application of the power handle resulting in an alarming vibration and no actual power. We dawdled along, passing near Greenisland 450 class no 453 on the 80 class diagram! WTF? I was here for two reasons (1) the 80 class, and (2) to take the summer only 450 class daily M-F working from Coleraine to Londonderry and back. I now got a text from my man on the ground saying that the DEMU had not been to Derry on either of the two previous days. This was very bad news. No 80, and no DEMU to Derry. Luck had finally run out for me in Northern Ireland at the eleventh hour. What’s more, we were running 10 minutes late by Carrickfergus, meaning the chances of being able to leap at Whitehead into the 08:10 express to Belfast were minimal. I bailed at Carrick instead, and went for a much needed cup of tea. 458 on the express (08:21 ex-Carrick) was of course late, delayed by the 07:29 running late into the passing loop at Whitehead. It was also full in the power car, although there were plenty of seats in the two trailers. Annoying therefore to have to stand in Crank Class amongst rather stupid normals who were failing to occupy seats in the more normal-friendly trailer cars.
No sign of the 80 passing York Road depot. Where could it be? I rode with the express as far as Great Victoria Street (hellfire through the tunnel at Botanic), riding back on a CAF to Central on the 09:00 to Ballymena. At Central I rode with 459 on the 09:12 to Carrickfergus, returning on the 10:00. By this stage it was clear the 80 was nowhere to be seen, so I decided to risk the Derry move, knowing that if it didn’t produce I could get two return trips on the DEMU to Portrush instead.
Readers of a sensitive disposition should look away now. There now follows a description of the most appalling ineptitude/stupidity by a signaller that it has ever been my misfortune to witness. A couple of inexplicable decisions led to a total collapse of services on a line for most of a day.
A 6 car CAF set was waiting on platform 1 at Belfast Central to form the 10:40 to Portrush. This is booked as the 10:28 from Great Victoria Street, but when a 6 car set is in use passengers from there must change from a 3 car set onto the 6 piece at Central. This is done by bringing the 3 cars alongside on platform 2 and passengers crossing the island to the 6 piece. Platform 2 is occupied by the 10:35 to Dublin, but if this leaves on time there is nothing to stop this operation working. On this occasion the Dublin left 4 minutes late, which itself is very poor as punctuality is vital to allow the transfer of passengers for Portrush to the 10:40. The connecting CAF ex-GVS could be seen checked at a signal waiting for the Dublin to leave. Eventually the set arrived on 2 at 10:42. There then proceeded an utter farce as it took fully six minutes to get everyone across a platform and on board the 6 piece, which eventually left at 10:48. To add to the stupidity, the simultaneous departures to Larne and Bangor at 10:42 were both held until the Portrush had left, making them 7 minutes late for no reason. 9 minutes late leaving Yorkgate didn’t seem too much of an issue, but when we reached the end of the double track section at Monkstown we were checked. After a few minutes it became clear that the 09:10 Londonderry > Belfast that we were supposed to pass at Templepatrick had been let into the Templepatrick > Monkstown section and we would be stuck waiting. Eventually it passed us and we proceeded to Mossley West, whence departure was 19 minutes late, only a couple of miles into a single line section nearly 90 miles in length.
The next farce occurred at Ballymoney, where it became clear that the next southbound train (11:10 ex-Derry) which we should have passed at Coleraine, had been let into the Coleraine > Ballymoney section. The train was absolutely wedged with day trippers, and the normals were getting restive. We eventually arrived at Coleraine 30 minutes late, and the connecting DEMU (452) to Derry left 35 minutes late at 12:33 vice 11:58. The ride to Derry was great fun though, and totally hellfire through the tunnels at Downhill. The last time I did this in a DEMU was 18 years ago, and this was the first time I’d done it in a 450 class. I was in the company of two locally based cranks, whose company made the trip even more enjoyable. Arrival at Derry was later than the departure time of the return working at 13:10, but the turnaround was far from urgent. For the return working my companions persuaded me not to sit in Crank Class, but to move to the driving trailer which was now leading. I was dubious about this as the power car is my favourite location, but it turned out to be a fantastic move. Bucketing along on 33½ miles of jointed track sitting right over the bogie and being propelled into every kink and irregularity in the track (and there are many) was a thrilling and at times hair-raising experience.
Anyway, back at Coleraine we bade farewell to 452 and moved over to the six piece for the ’13:57’ back to Belfast, which eventually left 35 late. How had NIR managed this? 35 late leaving Coleraine for Derry, a booked turnaround of 25 minutes at the terminus, yet still be 35 minutes late leaving Coleraine for Belfast? More farces with crossing points being changed (Ballymena instead of Antrim), and arrival back at Central was 31 minutes late at 15:43. Having long since missed the 15:12 to Larne which I had been intending to leap onto at Yorkgate, we settled down with a cup of tea to see what the 16:12 to Larne would produce. There was an outside chance that the 80 would be dragged out for this, as sometimes happens, but 453 turned up instead. A final, parting farce as the 16:10 to Derry was late (due to our inbound 13:57 ex-Coleraine being so delayed), meaning that we were checked between Central and Yorkgate to allow the 16:10 to overtake us. This meant that my plus 4 at Jordanstown had now turned into a minus 2, so I bailed at Whiteabbey to await the 16:35 back to GVS. Flames and clag leapt from 453’s exhaust as she pulled out. What a hellfire machine!
Let’s have a think about this. What dubious decisions led to this spectacular and entirely avoidable farce?
1) The failure of Central to dispatch the 10:35 Dublin on time.
2) The failure of the signalman to put the 10:28 connecting train from GVS into a different platform.
3) The decision of the signalman to allow the 09:10 Londonderry > Belfast through the loop at Templepatrick rather than hold it and minimise disruption.
This ridiculous chain of events led to the total breakdown for most of the day of a fairly intensive service over a very long single track line. It got me thinking about one of the advantages of privatisation: if Network Rail did things like this, the TOCs would be all over them, whereas NIR/Translink have nobody to answer to but themselves. Maybe the Ulsterbus men in charge at Translink don’t know or care anything about railways. Maybe, but whatever the cause it was a total disgrace, and I am informed not untypical.
Anyway, the final act was 459 from Whiteabbey on the 15:45 Larne Town > Great Victoria Street all the way to the blocks, and then returning on the same set to Central on the 17:06 to Larne Harbour. I watched it depart at 17:16 for Larne, the guard giving me a knowing nod before thrashing it hard. I stayed to watch 458 depart 2 minutes later on the 17:18 to Whitehead knowing for certain this time that I would never see or hear this again in service. Then across to platform 1 for a CAF on the 17:23 to Sydenham for the airport and home. Despite the disappointment of no 80 class, it had been a fantastic day, with loads of (often farcical) action, good weather, good company, and a DEMU to Derry, something that will happen for the last time ever next Friday (26th August). Northern Ireland will be a quieter place soon when the last of these amazing machines has gone, and will also have lost a very small part of its soul
At Stranraer at 01:00 2 of the 6 passengers headed for the long walk into the town, while the remaining 4 of us went towards what we thought was the terminal. The building displaying the illuminated sign ‘departures’ was well and truly locked, so we had to follow the 2 locals into town to get to the terminal at the port entrance. I haven’t been to Stranraer as a foot passenger for years, and this was all profoundly depressing. I reflected that as someone who has been using this crossing all my life I have witnessed the three phases of degradation of service for rail and foot passengers. When I was a child you got off a proper train (10:00 ex-Euston for example, formed of 10 mk IIs) with hundreds of other people and went straight into the ferry terminal which was on the platform. To get on the boat you simply walked across the quay and went up the gangplank. By my late teens the train had got shorter, typically a 4-car 156 (although well loaded), and the situation had been ‘improved’ by the addition of that terminal building that was so forbiddingly locked in the small hours of Wednesday morning. As well as a longer walk, this ‘improvement’ was accompanied by the addition of a plastic tube to funnel the passengers up to the bow vehicle loading doors, rather than a gangplank into the ship’s side. Finally, the situation is that four rail passengers had to walk nearly quarter of a mile to the terminal, before being driven onto the 03:30 boat in a bus. Quite apart from the additional distances involved, implicit in these three phases is an assumption that adults must be treated like children who cannot be trusted to walk up a gangplank, or latterly even a plastic tube. Still, at least there is still a connection of sorts for a few more months, after which Stranraer will cease to be the principal port for Northern Ireland after more than 150 years. A terrible, terrible shame, and a damning indictment on our society’s lazy addiction to the motor car
After sleeping on the boat, I disembarked at Belfast, surprisingly walking down a plastic tube and not using a bus, which was nice. Still, we had to wait until the vehicle deck was empty, even though there is a fenced off section for pedestrians on the ramp. Why? The three phases of degradation for foot passengers can also be seen on the Northern Ireland side, where in my childhood you landed at Larne and boarded a train that went right into the terminal. This then changed to berthing at Belfast docks, which was less convenient for foot passengers, but still much better than the current arrangements where Stena use a berth at the very end of the port, a huge distance away, forcing a three mile walk even to the port entrance, or the use of buses or taxis (and hence extra ching). Leaving the terminal somewhere opposite Whiteabbey, pedestrians first have to walk out towards the sea before turning back to walk towards the city centre, adding 5 minutes to an already long walk. Do the people who design these facilities have any idea what those two flesh covered bony things sticking out below their waists are actually for, other than pushing the pedals in their cars? The level of pedestrian unfriendliness in modern developments seems another sad reflection of our collective mental laziness. There isn’t even a map of Belfast in the arrivals hall at the Stena terminal, so confident are they that nobody is mad enough to want to walk. They may well have a point as I didn’t see a single other pedestrian on my walk to Yorkgate, although a map wouldn’t be expensive and would be a help to any other ‘eccentrics’ who want to use their legs. Above all it would show that Stena believe in offering some sort of choice of how to get to their incredibly remote terminal. En route I was passed by a grotesquely fat man driving a BMW, providing as good a metaphor as I could wish for for the consequences of contempt for walking and public transport.
At Yorkgate I was planning to take the 07:33 departure as far as Whitehead, but the inbound working towards Central was running 7 minutes late, so I boarded that and then took the 07:29 from Central, now 5 down. 457 was underperforming, with every application of the power handle resulting in an alarming vibration and no actual power. We dawdled along, passing near Greenisland 450 class no 453 on the 80 class diagram! WTF? I was here for two reasons (1) the 80 class, and (2) to take the summer only 450 class daily M-F working from Coleraine to Londonderry and back. I now got a text from my man on the ground saying that the DEMU had not been to Derry on either of the two previous days. This was very bad news. No 80, and no DEMU to Derry. Luck had finally run out for me in Northern Ireland at the eleventh hour. What’s more, we were running 10 minutes late by Carrickfergus, meaning the chances of being able to leap at Whitehead into the 08:10 express to Belfast were minimal. I bailed at Carrick instead, and went for a much needed cup of tea. 458 on the express (08:21 ex-Carrick) was of course late, delayed by the 07:29 running late into the passing loop at Whitehead. It was also full in the power car, although there were plenty of seats in the two trailers. Annoying therefore to have to stand in Crank Class amongst rather stupid normals who were failing to occupy seats in the more normal-friendly trailer cars.
No sign of the 80 passing York Road depot. Where could it be? I rode with the express as far as Great Victoria Street (hellfire through the tunnel at Botanic), riding back on a CAF to Central on the 09:00 to Ballymena. At Central I rode with 459 on the 09:12 to Carrickfergus, returning on the 10:00. By this stage it was clear the 80 was nowhere to be seen, so I decided to risk the Derry move, knowing that if it didn’t produce I could get two return trips on the DEMU to Portrush instead.
Readers of a sensitive disposition should look away now. There now follows a description of the most appalling ineptitude/stupidity by a signaller that it has ever been my misfortune to witness. A couple of inexplicable decisions led to a total collapse of services on a line for most of a day.
A 6 car CAF set was waiting on platform 1 at Belfast Central to form the 10:40 to Portrush. This is booked as the 10:28 from Great Victoria Street, but when a 6 car set is in use passengers from there must change from a 3 car set onto the 6 piece at Central. This is done by bringing the 3 cars alongside on platform 2 and passengers crossing the island to the 6 piece. Platform 2 is occupied by the 10:35 to Dublin, but if this leaves on time there is nothing to stop this operation working. On this occasion the Dublin left 4 minutes late, which itself is very poor as punctuality is vital to allow the transfer of passengers for Portrush to the 10:40. The connecting CAF ex-GVS could be seen checked at a signal waiting for the Dublin to leave. Eventually the set arrived on 2 at 10:42. There then proceeded an utter farce as it took fully six minutes to get everyone across a platform and on board the 6 piece, which eventually left at 10:48. To add to the stupidity, the simultaneous departures to Larne and Bangor at 10:42 were both held until the Portrush had left, making them 7 minutes late for no reason. 9 minutes late leaving Yorkgate didn’t seem too much of an issue, but when we reached the end of the double track section at Monkstown we were checked. After a few minutes it became clear that the 09:10 Londonderry > Belfast that we were supposed to pass at Templepatrick had been let into the Templepatrick > Monkstown section and we would be stuck waiting. Eventually it passed us and we proceeded to Mossley West, whence departure was 19 minutes late, only a couple of miles into a single line section nearly 90 miles in length.
The next farce occurred at Ballymoney, where it became clear that the next southbound train (11:10 ex-Derry) which we should have passed at Coleraine, had been let into the Coleraine > Ballymoney section. The train was absolutely wedged with day trippers, and the normals were getting restive. We eventually arrived at Coleraine 30 minutes late, and the connecting DEMU (452) to Derry left 35 minutes late at 12:33 vice 11:58. The ride to Derry was great fun though, and totally hellfire through the tunnels at Downhill. The last time I did this in a DEMU was 18 years ago, and this was the first time I’d done it in a 450 class. I was in the company of two locally based cranks, whose company made the trip even more enjoyable. Arrival at Derry was later than the departure time of the return working at 13:10, but the turnaround was far from urgent. For the return working my companions persuaded me not to sit in Crank Class, but to move to the driving trailer which was now leading. I was dubious about this as the power car is my favourite location, but it turned out to be a fantastic move. Bucketing along on 33½ miles of jointed track sitting right over the bogie and being propelled into every kink and irregularity in the track (and there are many) was a thrilling and at times hair-raising experience.
Anyway, back at Coleraine we bade farewell to 452 and moved over to the six piece for the ’13:57’ back to Belfast, which eventually left 35 late. How had NIR managed this? 35 late leaving Coleraine for Derry, a booked turnaround of 25 minutes at the terminus, yet still be 35 minutes late leaving Coleraine for Belfast? More farces with crossing points being changed (Ballymena instead of Antrim), and arrival back at Central was 31 minutes late at 15:43. Having long since missed the 15:12 to Larne which I had been intending to leap onto at Yorkgate, we settled down with a cup of tea to see what the 16:12 to Larne would produce. There was an outside chance that the 80 would be dragged out for this, as sometimes happens, but 453 turned up instead. A final, parting farce as the 16:10 to Derry was late (due to our inbound 13:57 ex-Coleraine being so delayed), meaning that we were checked between Central and Yorkgate to allow the 16:10 to overtake us. This meant that my plus 4 at Jordanstown had now turned into a minus 2, so I bailed at Whiteabbey to await the 16:35 back to GVS. Flames and clag leapt from 453’s exhaust as she pulled out. What a hellfire machine!
Let’s have a think about this. What dubious decisions led to this spectacular and entirely avoidable farce?
1) The failure of Central to dispatch the 10:35 Dublin on time.
2) The failure of the signalman to put the 10:28 connecting train from GVS into a different platform.
3) The decision of the signalman to allow the 09:10 Londonderry > Belfast through the loop at Templepatrick rather than hold it and minimise disruption.
This ridiculous chain of events led to the total breakdown for most of the day of a fairly intensive service over a very long single track line. It got me thinking about one of the advantages of privatisation: if Network Rail did things like this, the TOCs would be all over them, whereas NIR/Translink have nobody to answer to but themselves. Maybe the Ulsterbus men in charge at Translink don’t know or care anything about railways. Maybe, but whatever the cause it was a total disgrace, and I am informed not untypical.
Anyway, the final act was 459 from Whiteabbey on the 15:45 Larne Town > Great Victoria Street all the way to the blocks, and then returning on the same set to Central on the 17:06 to Larne Harbour. I watched it depart at 17:16 for Larne, the guard giving me a knowing nod before thrashing it hard. I stayed to watch 458 depart 2 minutes later on the 17:18 to Whitehead knowing for certain this time that I would never see or hear this again in service. Then across to platform 1 for a CAF on the 17:23 to Sydenham for the airport and home. Despite the disappointment of no 80 class, it had been a fantastic day, with loads of (often farcical) action, good weather, good company, and a DEMU to Derry, something that will happen for the last time ever next Friday (26th August). Northern Ireland will be a quieter place soon when the last of these amazing machines has gone, and will also have lost a very small part of its soul
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89-763-733
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- 2 Jul 2011
- Messages
- 285
452 made the TV news yesterday. See if you can spot ITS in it!
Nice shot of an 80 at Downhill at the end of the video which must be from around 1999
http://www.u.tv/utvplayer/video/138624/113438
Nice shot of an 80 at Downhill at the end of the video which must be from around 1999
http://www.u.tv/utvplayer/video/138624/113438
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Blindtraveler
Established Member
- Joined
- 28 Feb 2011
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- 10,544
waw, what a day! first off, the sad situation with Stena - the same bus boys referred to above, along with there scottish Citylink coleegs are even now drawing up fancy plans to effectively ruin Scotrails Southwest opperations. Its gunna be good for travelers from the central belt who wil see travel time on our already direct coach cut but the moves you made will soon not be possible without a taxi or a bike.
2nd, I never got the chance to ride these babies, wil have to wate for preservation but sounds great fun, signaling disasters permitting.
Another grand read which many wil enjoy and I have to agree, Carlisle, what a station. Never fails to impress to the point where, often to friends discust il go out of my way to change there! Thanks and hope the Wife is feeling a bit better
2nd, I never got the chance to ride these babies, wil have to wate for preservation but sounds great fun, signaling disasters permitting.
Another grand read which many wil enjoy and I have to agree, Carlisle, what a station. Never fails to impress to the point where, often to friends discust il go out of my way to change there! Thanks and hope the Wife is feeling a bit better
I saw him on the UTV news while waiting for my plane at BHD.
--- old post above --- --- new post below ---
Preservation not looking likely but at least we can still have SR thumpers at the ELR and other preserved lines, or on the main line with the Hastings unit.
Blindtraveler
Established Member
- Joined
- 28 Feb 2011
- Messages
- 10,544
shame! Yeh had a bash at hastings, fabby! If you hear any better news on that front let us all know!
Techniquest
Veteran Member
Glad to hear you had a good time, despite the farce with the signalling! Shame to hear the 450s are nearly finished with now, and the 80s. Bloody fantastic beasts and I'm gutted I've got no chance to get over there again
So Stranraer's losing it's ferry service this year? Another shame, and I agree entirely with the walk from Yorkgate not being mapped. Flipping long walk isn't it, certainly not one I'll forget any time soon! The terminal issue at Stranraer is ridiculous, I have to agree!
So Stranraer's losing it's ferry service this year? Another shame, and I agree entirely with the walk from Yorkgate not being mapped. Flipping long walk isn't it, certainly not one I'll forget any time soon! The terminal issue at Stranraer is ridiculous, I have to agree!
8th September saw a normal-ish day at work followed by a positioning move that kicked off 40+ hours of continual travel, much of it behind locomotives as befits the Year of the Locomotive. I left work an hour early and headed to Morley station to pick up the 16:22 to Manchester Victoria, which was the usual 3-car 144 that I took as far as Dewsbury. Next was a totally wedged 185 on the 16:36 to Piccadilly (the only thing worse than a 185 IMHO is a wedged 185), which fortunately emptied out at Huddersfield. Arriving two early at Piccadilly at 17:23 meant I had the unusual choice of each of the four TOCs operating to Crewe and still be on time for my next move. I naturally avoided the Vomiter on the XC 17:27 to Bournemouth, and instead picked the 175 on the ATW 17:30 to Cardiff Central. There was also a 323 on the Northern local at 17:38, and a Pendo on the 17:55 to Euston. I must say I was tempted by the Pendo as I was travelling on a open ticket rather than an advance and would therefore be able to scour the train looking for an elusive window. However, tea time was approaching and I reasoned that fish and chips would be both better and cheaper in Crewe than in Central Manchester, so a longer fester in Crewe made sense. The airy and spacious interior of the 175 made it immediately obvious that I had made the right choice however, and I got to Crewe on time and with 37 minutes before the next move.
I got fish and chips in a place called Goodwin’s, a few minutes from the station. As I was standing at the counter I began to feel the name was familiar in some way, then it struck me why. “Is this the place in that book by Stuart Maconie?” I asked the proprietor. Indeed it turned out to be, and now clearly feeling he had a reputation to live up to (Maconie had been very fulsome in his praise in his book about the North ‘Pies and Prejudice’), I was served an enormous portion of chips with a superbly cooked fish on the top. Go there.
Back at the station the WAG-Ex was running 8 minutes late, and eventually rolled into platform 11 behind required 57313. A GM taster before the following day’s main event followed, with superb clag on every start up. I stood at the vestibule all the way to Rhyl, but sat down beyond there. I returned for a last bellow at the Junction but by then it was getting too dark to make out the clag properly. I bailed at Bangor and went off to Morrison’s to get beer and provisions for the following day. Now attempting only to kill time I bought a ticket to Llandudno for a few extra miles and to kill a bit of time in that pleasant resort. The board then updated to show the 20:37 Holyhead > Crewe as running six minutes late, and I had a plus five at the Junction into the 20:23 off Blaenau. Not the best start. A 150 unexpectedly rolled in, and I began to wonder if this 75 mph unit should be on this diagram, and maybe that was the reason for the late running, unable to keep to 158/175 timings. I asked the grip would I miss at the Junction and she assured me I wouldn’t. We were checked on the bridge after Conwy though, and of course the fool of a signalman had let the 21:32 Llandudno off ahead off our arrival. WTF? The ATW station guy suggested that I “speak to Network Rail”, which is hardly a sensible or professional answer, since this isn’t possible for members of the public. It turned out he was pretty annoyed by this move himself and said that he had just come off the ‘phone complaining to the signalman about this farce, and the signalman’s answer had been simply “too late!”. He then calmed down and got a taxi for me and the other passenger who had missed the 21:32. Judging by the taxi driver’s comments this was a far from unusual occurrence and one has to wonder why this incompetent signalling decision at the Junction is repeatedly tolerated. The 21:32 is booked a staggering 11 minutes from Deganwy, so could leave the Junction up to 8 minutes late and still arrive on time at the terminus.
Anyway, with my time in Llandudno now cut down, I only had time for one pint before the last bus back at 22:20. At the stand I noticed that this bus went on beyond Llandudno Junction to Conwy, so decided to take it there instead and pick up the Holyhead train one stop on for shack scratch. Conwy is a very pleasant town, but its plentiful pubs were almost without exception empty not far off 11 pm on a Thursday evening, which can’t be a good sign. They were also almost without exception far too brightly lit, which as well as wasting electricity only served to highlight their gaunt emptiness and make them unattractive to enter. Certainly I searched in vain for a small, dimly lit place with a good selection of beers and an appreciative clientele, and retired a couple of quid better off to the station with 15 minutes to spare for the 22:57 to Holyhead.
At the station I got talking to a drunk guy who had already smashed the neck off his bottle of beer and was trying to drink the contents. I have a bottle opener on my keyring and opened his next one for him. On the train he seemed more like a normal, quite likable guy than the sort of nutcase prepared to drink lager and bits of glass in equal measure, and I cracked open one of my own beers (Greene King IPA) and joined him. He bailed at Llanfairfechan, and I then got talking about real ale with the grip who turned out to be from Todmorden. At Holyhead I made my way slowly and reluctantly to the Hall of Discomfort to wait a couple of hours on the metal benches of pain for the 02:30 Stena sailing to Dublin. This passed off without incident and I grabbed a couple of hours’ kip on board before being bussed off at 05:45 and onto another connecting bus to be put down at Connolly station at 06:10. I was taking the RPSI tour to Limerick at 09:15 so had ages to kill. I bought a return to Greystones, intending to take the 06:25 to the end of the DART section as a fill-in move. The 06:25 departed on time, but at Lansdowne Road it couldn’t get moving for more than a few yards before the brakes came back on again. We eventually got to Sandymount after 10 minutes of stop-start to cover 45 chains! The train was caped here and everyone bailed. I was clearly not going to get to Greystones, which was both a disappointment and a waste of money. I haven’t been to Greystones since it was electrified and the run is stunning, especially south of Bray. I was reluctant to venture any further south at all, as with a failed train on the line and no siding until Dun Laoghaire, it was potentially only going to be an hour or so before the northbound service started to disintegrate, as the southbound was already doing: looking north I could see a unit checked at every signal for about a mile. The risk of missing the tour was too great so I headed back to Connolly by the next available train. I then wandered off to get a leisurely breakfast before returning to Connolly to meet up with some other cranks for the main event.
071 class GM no 072 was in platform 1 at the head of 5 of the RPSI’s mk II coaches, plus the bizarre Werkspoor generator van that goes everywhere with them. We got seats in the front coach, a mk IIA BSO of BR vintage rather than one of the mk IICs built for NIR in 1970. The amount of legroom was so generous that I would swear this coach had been built as a brake first and been retro-fitted with standard mk II second class seating on purchase by the RPSI: it was possible to stand between the seat and the table with legs touching neither. The run to Ballybrophy was good and the loco very loud, comparing extremely favourably with the 57 the previous day despite having the same engine. At Ballybrophy we were all told to get off the train while the loco ran round and propelled the stock into the Limerick bay, depriving us of the connection from the main line onto the branch This operation took all of the booked 50 minutes, and on leaving Ballybrophy I cracked open the first beer. The tour was given over 3 hours to cover the branch, including a 15 minute photostop at each of the 5 intermediate stations. I had thought this was going to be a bit of a pain, but it turned out to be great, allowing plenty of time for socialising, drinking, and just enjoying the great atmosphere that pervades Irish tours. I’d never been in this part of Ireland (North Tipperary) before, and the scenery is stunning. As for the line itself, this is an amazing survival of a typical, rambling Irish country branch line. If you don’t know what that means I’m afraid you’ll have to go and sample it for yourself as it has a certain je ne sais quoi that’s hard to describe, and is utterly unlike anything in the UK. Go soon though, as this section is threatened with closure, and with only 2 service trains a day each way frankly it’s not hard to see why.
At Limerick we bailed across the road to a pub serving very nice Guinness for a little over an hour before the return journey. Considering the large crowd of cranks spending money in his pub, which must have significantly boosted his takings for the day, I would have expected the landlord to have been delighted. Instead he managed to remain unfriendly while staying just the right side of openly hostile. Frankly at €4 a pint we were the ones who should have been struggling not to be hostile, but the company was good and the crack/craic better so the sullen, sulking, man behind the bar was just someone to hand over enormous sums of money to and no more.
A loco change at Limerick saw 080 leading us out towards the Junction at 16:25. We stopped at Dromkeen loop to pass some horrendous piece of plastic on the service train, and continued to the avoiding line, picking up the main line at Kyle Crossing. This was where the fun really started. The driver really thrashed 080 hard on the main line. The weather was great and it was heads out all the way. What a fabulous run, and I had a bad case of Basher’s Quiff every time I came back into the saloon. Not that I stayed in the saloon for long as it was too good an opportunity to waste to stand in the vestibule, jaw on a hinge at the staggering noise and power of this machine. 071s have an interesting quirk in that just when you think it cannot generate any more power and thrash, another notch is found from somewhere and the thing just goes ballistic. Every time this happened (frequently), it drew appreciative nods from the hordes of eager bashers on board.
What a tour! Once again the best outing of the year is in Ireland, and once again the best part of the outing is a GM 071/111 class giving its all on a proper main line. Great company, good beer, a brilliant, relaxed atmosphere, flailing a-plenty and just non-stop exhilaration for over two hours. The return run from Kyle Crossing to Dublin was worth the price of the ticket alone, but the rest of the day was also fantastic and just added to the value. We were early approaching Connolly and were checked for over 5 minutes at North Strand before gaining access to platform 5 on time at 19:15. My companions were making a fill in to Howth before getting the 20:50 Belfast train, and I walked over to the suburban island platform 6/7 with them, where I bade them farewell and took some odious DMU south one stop to Tara Street as a positioning move for the bus back to the Stena terminal.
At the terminal I suddenly started to feel shattered. I hadn’t been in a bed since 6 o’clock the previous morning, and had done rather a lot, including a day’s work, since then. We were bussed onto the boat promptly at 20:30 and I got my head down and fell asleep immediately, not waking up until midnight when it was nearly time to disembark anyway. Back to the metal benches, for four hours this time. I was so knackered though that I was able to sleep for much of the time. Unfortunately there was a mentalist waiting for the train as well, who was talking complete crap in a loud, scouse voice, and generally being an enormous nuisance. At one point he lay down on the floor right next to an enormous man mountain from Dublin who’d managed to get comfortable and go to sleep, which woke him up and nearly caused a fight. Last time I did this move there was a fight involving scousers, although luckily this time one didn’t break out. It is worth noting that this was NOT the same mentalist who had spent the whole bus journey off the boat loudly (and commendably accurately TBF) imitating the engine note, much to the alarm of the people sitting near him. What is it with this boat and nutters?
On Saturdays there is no WAG-Ex so it was with some relief that I was able to board the first departure at 04:25 without feeling that I really ought to be enduring another 67 minutes in this hellhole in order to get loco-haulage. Also good is that the 04:25 goes to Manchester instead of Cardiff on Saturdays, so no change needed at Chester. This turned out to be brilliant as I slept all the way from Holyhead to Newton-le-Willows, meaning I was much more refreshed than I might otherwise have been. At Piccadilly we were 6 minutes arriving at 07:24 late despite having been on time at Newton and despite being given a classic ATW take-no-chances overkill 9 minutes for the half mile from Oxford Road. Thus what should have been an easy stroll over for the 07:27 to Newcastle turned into an unwanted sprint from platform 13 to platform 1. The comparison style and comfort-wise between 175104 and the 185 on the TPE was stark, and it was doubly lucky therefore that we rolled into Leeds 3 early at 08:21. On the one had it’s 3 minutes less of my life wasted sitting on a 185, and on the other it enabled me to get the 08:25 Skipton train (another one annoyingly out of the normal xx:26/xx:56 pattern) instead of the 08:40 to Forster Square that I had expected. The grip let me stay on to Saltaire instead of Shipley as my ticket said and I was home before nine.
Another great trip, although more knackering than I should really be undertaking these days. Still, the enjoyment and adrenaline got me through it in one, considerably happier than before I started, piece
I got fish and chips in a place called Goodwin’s, a few minutes from the station. As I was standing at the counter I began to feel the name was familiar in some way, then it struck me why. “Is this the place in that book by Stuart Maconie?” I asked the proprietor. Indeed it turned out to be, and now clearly feeling he had a reputation to live up to (Maconie had been very fulsome in his praise in his book about the North ‘Pies and Prejudice’), I was served an enormous portion of chips with a superbly cooked fish on the top. Go there.
Back at the station the WAG-Ex was running 8 minutes late, and eventually rolled into platform 11 behind required 57313. A GM taster before the following day’s main event followed, with superb clag on every start up. I stood at the vestibule all the way to Rhyl, but sat down beyond there. I returned for a last bellow at the Junction but by then it was getting too dark to make out the clag properly. I bailed at Bangor and went off to Morrison’s to get beer and provisions for the following day. Now attempting only to kill time I bought a ticket to Llandudno for a few extra miles and to kill a bit of time in that pleasant resort. The board then updated to show the 20:37 Holyhead > Crewe as running six minutes late, and I had a plus five at the Junction into the 20:23 off Blaenau. Not the best start. A 150 unexpectedly rolled in, and I began to wonder if this 75 mph unit should be on this diagram, and maybe that was the reason for the late running, unable to keep to 158/175 timings. I asked the grip would I miss at the Junction and she assured me I wouldn’t. We were checked on the bridge after Conwy though, and of course the fool of a signalman had let the 21:32 Llandudno off ahead off our arrival. WTF? The ATW station guy suggested that I “speak to Network Rail”, which is hardly a sensible or professional answer, since this isn’t possible for members of the public. It turned out he was pretty annoyed by this move himself and said that he had just come off the ‘phone complaining to the signalman about this farce, and the signalman’s answer had been simply “too late!”. He then calmed down and got a taxi for me and the other passenger who had missed the 21:32. Judging by the taxi driver’s comments this was a far from unusual occurrence and one has to wonder why this incompetent signalling decision at the Junction is repeatedly tolerated. The 21:32 is booked a staggering 11 minutes from Deganwy, so could leave the Junction up to 8 minutes late and still arrive on time at the terminus.
Anyway, with my time in Llandudno now cut down, I only had time for one pint before the last bus back at 22:20. At the stand I noticed that this bus went on beyond Llandudno Junction to Conwy, so decided to take it there instead and pick up the Holyhead train one stop on for shack scratch. Conwy is a very pleasant town, but its plentiful pubs were almost without exception empty not far off 11 pm on a Thursday evening, which can’t be a good sign. They were also almost without exception far too brightly lit, which as well as wasting electricity only served to highlight their gaunt emptiness and make them unattractive to enter. Certainly I searched in vain for a small, dimly lit place with a good selection of beers and an appreciative clientele, and retired a couple of quid better off to the station with 15 minutes to spare for the 22:57 to Holyhead.
At the station I got talking to a drunk guy who had already smashed the neck off his bottle of beer and was trying to drink the contents. I have a bottle opener on my keyring and opened his next one for him. On the train he seemed more like a normal, quite likable guy than the sort of nutcase prepared to drink lager and bits of glass in equal measure, and I cracked open one of my own beers (Greene King IPA) and joined him. He bailed at Llanfairfechan, and I then got talking about real ale with the grip who turned out to be from Todmorden. At Holyhead I made my way slowly and reluctantly to the Hall of Discomfort to wait a couple of hours on the metal benches of pain for the 02:30 Stena sailing to Dublin. This passed off without incident and I grabbed a couple of hours’ kip on board before being bussed off at 05:45 and onto another connecting bus to be put down at Connolly station at 06:10. I was taking the RPSI tour to Limerick at 09:15 so had ages to kill. I bought a return to Greystones, intending to take the 06:25 to the end of the DART section as a fill-in move. The 06:25 departed on time, but at Lansdowne Road it couldn’t get moving for more than a few yards before the brakes came back on again. We eventually got to Sandymount after 10 minutes of stop-start to cover 45 chains! The train was caped here and everyone bailed. I was clearly not going to get to Greystones, which was both a disappointment and a waste of money. I haven’t been to Greystones since it was electrified and the run is stunning, especially south of Bray. I was reluctant to venture any further south at all, as with a failed train on the line and no siding until Dun Laoghaire, it was potentially only going to be an hour or so before the northbound service started to disintegrate, as the southbound was already doing: looking north I could see a unit checked at every signal for about a mile. The risk of missing the tour was too great so I headed back to Connolly by the next available train. I then wandered off to get a leisurely breakfast before returning to Connolly to meet up with some other cranks for the main event.
071 class GM no 072 was in platform 1 at the head of 5 of the RPSI’s mk II coaches, plus the bizarre Werkspoor generator van that goes everywhere with them. We got seats in the front coach, a mk IIA BSO of BR vintage rather than one of the mk IICs built for NIR in 1970. The amount of legroom was so generous that I would swear this coach had been built as a brake first and been retro-fitted with standard mk II second class seating on purchase by the RPSI: it was possible to stand between the seat and the table with legs touching neither. The run to Ballybrophy was good and the loco very loud, comparing extremely favourably with the 57 the previous day despite having the same engine. At Ballybrophy we were all told to get off the train while the loco ran round and propelled the stock into the Limerick bay, depriving us of the connection from the main line onto the branch
This operation took all of the booked 50 minutes, and on leaving Ballybrophy I cracked open the first beer. The tour was given over 3 hours to cover the branch, including a 15 minute photostop at each of the 5 intermediate stations. I had thought this was going to be a bit of a pain, but it turned out to be great, allowing plenty of time for socialising, drinking, and just enjoying the great atmosphere that pervades Irish tours. I’d never been in this part of Ireland (North Tipperary) before, and the scenery is stunning. As for the line itself, this is an amazing survival of a typical, rambling Irish country branch line. If you don’t know what that means I’m afraid you’ll have to go and sample it for yourself as it has a certain je ne sais quoi that’s hard to describe, and is utterly unlike anything in the UK. Go soon though, as this section is threatened with closure, and with only 2 service trains a day each way frankly it’s not hard to see why.At Limerick we bailed across the road to a pub serving very nice Guinness for a little over an hour before the return journey. Considering the large crowd of cranks spending money in his pub, which must have significantly boosted his takings for the day, I would have expected the landlord to have been delighted. Instead he managed to remain unfriendly while staying just the right side of openly hostile. Frankly at €4 a pint we were the ones who should have been struggling not to be hostile, but the company was good and the crack/craic better so the sullen, sulking, man behind the bar was just someone to hand over enormous sums of money to and no more.
A loco change at Limerick saw 080 leading us out towards the Junction at 16:25. We stopped at Dromkeen loop to pass some horrendous piece of plastic on the service train, and continued to the avoiding line, picking up the main line at Kyle Crossing. This was where the fun really started. The driver really thrashed 080 hard on the main line. The weather was great and it was heads out all the way. What a fabulous run, and I had a bad case of Basher’s Quiff every time I came back into the saloon. Not that I stayed in the saloon for long as it was too good an opportunity to waste to stand in the vestibule, jaw on a hinge at the staggering noise and power of this machine. 071s have an interesting quirk in that just when you think it cannot generate any more power and thrash, another notch is found from somewhere and the thing just goes ballistic. Every time this happened (frequently), it drew appreciative nods from the hordes of eager bashers on board.
What a tour! Once again the best outing of the year is in Ireland, and once again the best part of the outing is a GM 071/111 class giving its all on a proper main line. Great company, good beer, a brilliant, relaxed atmosphere, flailing a-plenty and just non-stop exhilaration for over two hours. The return run from Kyle Crossing to Dublin was worth the price of the ticket alone, but the rest of the day was also fantastic and just added to the value. We were early approaching Connolly and were checked for over 5 minutes at North Strand before gaining access to platform 5 on time at 19:15. My companions were making a fill in to Howth before getting the 20:50 Belfast train, and I walked over to the suburban island platform 6/7 with them, where I bade them farewell and took some odious DMU south one stop to Tara Street as a positioning move for the bus back to the Stena terminal.
At the terminal I suddenly started to feel shattered. I hadn’t been in a bed since 6 o’clock the previous morning, and had done rather a lot, including a day’s work, since then. We were bussed onto the boat promptly at 20:30 and I got my head down and fell asleep immediately, not waking up until midnight when it was nearly time to disembark anyway. Back to the metal benches, for four hours this time. I was so knackered though that I was able to sleep for much of the time. Unfortunately there was a mentalist waiting for the train as well, who was talking complete crap in a loud, scouse voice, and generally being an enormous nuisance. At one point he lay down on the floor right next to an enormous man mountain from Dublin who’d managed to get comfortable and go to sleep, which woke him up and nearly caused a fight. Last time I did this move there was a fight involving scousers, although luckily this time one didn’t break out. It is worth noting that this was NOT the same mentalist who had spent the whole bus journey off the boat loudly (and commendably accurately TBF) imitating the engine note, much to the alarm of the people sitting near him. What is it with this boat and nutters?
On Saturdays there is no WAG-Ex so it was with some relief that I was able to board the first departure at 04:25 without feeling that I really ought to be enduring another 67 minutes in this hellhole in order to get loco-haulage. Also good is that the 04:25 goes to Manchester instead of Cardiff on Saturdays, so no change needed at Chester. This turned out to be brilliant as I slept all the way from Holyhead to Newton-le-Willows, meaning I was much more refreshed than I might otherwise have been. At Piccadilly we were 6 minutes arriving at 07:24 late despite having been on time at Newton and despite being given a classic ATW take-no-chances overkill 9 minutes for the half mile from Oxford Road. Thus what should have been an easy stroll over for the 07:27 to Newcastle turned into an unwanted sprint from platform 13 to platform 1. The comparison style and comfort-wise between 175104 and the 185 on the TPE was stark, and it was doubly lucky therefore that we rolled into Leeds 3 early at 08:21. On the one had it’s 3 minutes less of my life wasted sitting on a 185, and on the other it enabled me to get the 08:25 Skipton train (another one annoyingly out of the normal xx:26/xx:56 pattern) instead of the 08:40 to Forster Square that I had expected. The grip let me stay on to Saltaire instead of Shipley as my ticket said and I was home before nine.
Another great trip, although more knackering than I should really be undertaking these days. Still, the enjoyment and adrenaline got me through it in one, considerably happier than before I started, piece
Chester025
Member
- Joined
- 29 Jun 2008
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- 1,066
Yep have been there many times! They do an excellent breakfast too!
Techniquest
Veteran Member
Not sure if that's the same chippy I've been to before at Crewe, but there are decent chippys up there. Must remember that one though for Friday, since I'll be up there. Unless I devour something on K39 that is.
An excellent read as always, glad to hear the tour went well although it's a shame the connection line didn't get done.
An excellent read as always, glad to hear the tour went well although it's a shame the connection line didn't get done.
Blindtraveler
Established Member
- Joined
- 28 Feb 2011
- Messages
- 10,544
hope you do another blog nfxt year, there always so good and im saddened its septembergreat day by sounds of it, thanks. Ps, wat2h out for mine, end of month to the ravenglass and eskdail railway, a long time ambition to do again after doin it as a kid
Daimler
Member
Another great read - thanks!
Drimnagh Road
Member
One of the cranks in our group done the ultimate don't do in a strange pub and told the Bernard behind the bar; "we're a group of train enthusiasts down for the day on a vintage diesel".
Giving his rotting attitude and hate for his job, I'm sure he was delighted to hear that, although in fairness, between your table and our table, with a combination of approx 20 people, there must have been so much crank talk going on that it would have been pretty obvious to even the dimmest that there was something strange about the group that were in that afternoon.
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This happened in Inverness a couple of years ago when the SRPS took 40145 there. About 40 cranks turned up in a pub across the road from the station and almost literally poured money into the till for a couple of hours. The landlord couldn't understand why anyone would go on a special that wasn't steam hauled and was suspicious/unfriendly for the whole time. Customer service? Forget about it.
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