Nottingham Revisited

Three times in as many weeks, we headed off towards Nottingham station from Lowdham, en route to Derby, Carlton Male Voice Choir at Dadfest on Father’s Day at Binks Yard and day four of the Trent Bridge test match against New Zealand. Nottingham station has been revitalised in recent times. It’s a grand old building to begin with, of course, in smart red sandstone on the outside and solid Victorian red brick downstairs at track level. The concourse is now in two sections, having taken in the substantial former porte cochere [and then taxi ranks] into a modern, airy space - naturally well-lit from above and with a range of retail and fast-food outlets.

The surrounds have changed, too, with the pedestrianisation of the adjacent Station Street and the planting of trees around the station entrance. Binks Yard is another modern development, this time on a derelict brownfield site, with a new restaurant and entertainment venue standing directly opposite Nottingham’s distinctive first railway station at London Road Low Level, which was opened in 1857. Connecting up the central city area in Nottingham with the station and the riverside area has been an admirable part of the plan for the future, helped enormously by the removal of the Broadmarsh obstruction.

I’m heartened by many of the ways that our traditional provincial cities are reclaiming their central spaces in ways that encourage people to return there, both to live and to enjoy what are becoming increasingly attractive environments. The marrying of what was good about the old that has fortunately been saved with inventive recent additions makes rediscovering these areas an altogether pleasant experience. Being old enough to remember the cost to the inner urban areas of rapid deindustrialisation in terms of displacement, deprivation, dereliction and despair, its encouraging to be around to witness this rejuvenation taking place.   

Still making it in Derby

 

On the day that Rolls Royce announced new contracts to produce the UK’s first small reactors for nuclear power stations, we went to Derby again, 55 minutes by train direct from Lowdham. Since we were last there, the old silk mill next to the River Derwent has been transformed into the excellent Museum of Making. Most of one upper floor is given over to the Midland Railway. It’s full of railway related artefacts, many of which still need sorting and explaining. Most of the ground floor is given over to a rather nice café.

The main reason for our visit was the exhibition “Wright of Derby: From the Shadows”, recently returned to Joseph Wright’s home city from the National Gallery. He was an extraordinary artist and I would strongly recommend anyone who can get there before the display ends in November to make the trip to Derby Museum and Art Gallery.

The Grade II listed triangle of buildings fronting onto Railway Terrace, which is the approach road to the station from the north, is now a conservation area that reminds us just how important the railway has always been for Derby. It includes an array of brick-built, slate roofed terraced streets provided for rail workers in the nineteenth century and the old Railway Institute. As the headquarters of the Midland Railway and as a location for manufacturing and maintaining locomotives and rolling stock, the city has a rich railway heritage and a long-established reputation for making things of quality and for the necessary skilled craftsmanship.

The façade of the modern station barely does justice to its strategic past, though it has been tidied up a bit with a paved pedestrian area and a bus interchange. Derby remains a busy and important junction for passenger traffic, where East Midlands Trains services between Sheffield and London St Pancras intersect with Cross Country trains from the north east to the south west of England, as well as the hourly east-west EMR link between Lincoln and Crewe.

         

Leicester for a Ninety-Nine

Time was, searching out a ninety-nine involved a trip to the nearest shop for an ice cream. Now it’s a bit of a journey to Leicester, instead. Stadler’s Class 99s are based there for tests as they arrive from Spain in batches. No. 99004 was parked outside the open doors of the depot and No. 99005 was just behind it, having a peek outside but not ready to fully show itself on this occasion. There was quite a mix on view from the platform end and briefly from the train on arrival in the city. The former HST and now Derby’s Network Rail flying banana test train was there, as was Stanier Black Five No. 44871, hiding round the corner and in steam, presumably between main line specials duties. She was the second Fifteen Guineas Special survivor from August 1968 that I’d seen in the last few days. Class 73 electro-diesel No. 73962 Dick Mabbutt was also receiving attention in the yard, along with a Europhoenix Class 37. I had a very relaxing few hours on Leicester station, entertained by Class 66s on all the freight workings before my first ride on an East Midland Railway’s new Hitachi Aurora. No ice cream this time, but a Costa coffee did fine.

The Cotswold Festival of Steam

The Gloucestershire Warwickshire Steam Railway’s May bank holiday extravaganza was well attended on Sunday. Though they would have hoped for good weather to encourage attendance, record-breaking May temperatures over the whole weekend came with its own problems. With some notable guest locos as attractions for enthusiasts, an ambitiously busy timetable and the natural constraints of a single-track railway with passing loops to fit it all in, they were working to capacity and keeping their fingers crossed for a smooth ride.

The timetable was already 40 minutes down when we arrived at Cheltenham Racecourse station to start our day on the trains and timings slipped further as the day proceeded. As most people have committed to a leisurely day out with no particular place to go other than up and down the line and stopping off at the intermediate stations, delays are generally no big problem on occasions such as this. After all, this is resurrected Victorian technology being put to the test, big time. It provides a serious work out for the permanent way and the men and machines.

The reasons offered for the increasing delays to services depended on who you asked. I think I counted about five that had all come from different sources at various times of the day. The result was that folk really didn’t know what was happening or what was going to happen next to allow them to get moving again. Lengthy signal or station stops are normally no bother on gala days. Admiring the beautiful scenery along the Cotswold scarp from the train as it trundles along, accompanied by whisps of smoke and the odd whistle from the engine is the nostalgic idyll we have all come along to enjoy.

Baking slowly on a stationery train without air conditioning on a frazzling day under cloudless skies with no wind is another matter, altogether. The old Mark 1 stock has heating but no cooling. With movement and open windows, the draught so created is a welcome part of the experience. Like riding a bike, you create your own breeze. Without movement this soon becomes very uncomfortable indeed, especially on a very full train where you are already standing in the corridor and trying to get close to a window on the side of the train that’s in relative shade.

The heritage railways all depend on armies of willing volunteers. They are put under enormous pressure when plans start to unravel. I thought they were exemplary on Sunday as they fielded, best they could, all the requests and complaints that were obviously coming their way in fast order. They were blameless and so was the infrastructure. As mentioned, it too starts to creak when facing unusual circumstances. It’s an old and imperfect technology.

I only have one gripe – communication, or more pertinently, a lack of it. I heard it time and time again on Sunday from fellow [would-be] travellers. “Why don’t they tell us what’s happening?” It wasn’t that things were going wrong that upset them but that the train and station announcements were not keeping up with what was required. They needed information that wasn’t forthcoming. A couple of times I heard visitors complaining that although there had been a Tannoy announcement, it hadn’t carried to where they were standing on the platform. That one is surely rectifiable without too much outlay.

Decisions obviously have to be made according to established safe railway procedures but letting people know as soon as possible how that is going to affect them is very important and more so during a heatwave.

I read recently that return visits are critical for the heritage lines as they provide a substantial chunk of their income. Return visits depend on a memorable first experience. That puts public relations right at the top of the list of priorities.  

  

Mansfield Woodhouse station

The old goods shed is constructed from local Mansfield stone. This dolomitic or magnesian limestone, which comes in red and white forms, has been extensively quarried in the area and has contributed building material for St Pancras station, the Palace of Westminster and Southwell Minster in times past.

Woodhouse station closed under the Beeching recommendations in 1964 but was reopened in 1995 as part of the Robin Hood line, connecting the Mansfield area once again with Nottingham. The route was extended to Worksop over the former freight lines in 1998. In the interim, the line had been used for coal traffic, serving amongst others, Sherwood Colliery [1903-19920], located at Mansfield Woodhouse. The station lies in the shadow of the now landscaped and tree covered pit spoil heaps.

Nearby, and also developed on reclaimed land, Sherwood Colliery FC have extensive, modern, 3-G football pitches, where we headed this morning for an under eleven friendly game against Southwell City, which the home team narrowly won, 1-0.

The station has three platforms. Platform three is a bay that sits under the refurbished goods shed roof, and when we briefly called by, the 3-car Class 170 forming the 12.40 to Nottingham was ready to depart for the city. 

  

Rule Britannia

 

Andy reminded me that initially Britannia was not an easy spot. That was because she worked in East Anglia from her construction in 1951 until 1963. When we were fourteen, this seemed like a million miles away from us on Merseyside. Eventually, however, and with many other members of the class, she moved west and was allocated to Crewe, and so suddenly we saw a lot more of her.

It was a lovely sunny day and the shadow would still be favourably cast when looking west, I surmised, as I arrived at Crewe in very good time after an early start from home. A first glimpse of the blood and custard stock in platform 12 and a visible whiff of steam from the far end meant I could relax. Nothing could go wrong now. I scampered along through the crowds of well-wishers and passengers. Britannia looked resplendent, but there was not just one but two red and white square signs with “must not be moved” attached - very familiar temporary embellishments over the years. The word on the platform was that she had a minor leak that was being attended to and no-body seemed to be in any doubt that she would be fit to run. There was quite a crowd at the preferred viewpoint at the northern end of platform 6, where I had spent countless hours in times past watching Brits, semis and Scots and all the others leaving the station for the north.

It really was a wonderful sight as she pulled out, accompanied by a prolonged whistle and engulfed in steam. It was quite spell-binding - a sight I never tire of witnessing. As she straightened onto the main line and the last carriage followed past the Crewe Heritage Centre, the gentleman next to me in the row of photographers said to me “That’s put a smile on your face, then”, and he was right.

I hung around until after lunch time. It was such a pleasant temperature and though the station was quieter than usual because of truncated WCML services to Rugby and Milton Keynes because of continuing engineering work at Euston, there were the usual rapid fire comings and goings of passenger trains, including 3 Class 67s on Transport for Wales services between Manchester, Holyhead and Cardiff, but no freight through the station, itself, though I a heard a couple taking the subterranean Independent lines that we used to call the “muck hole”. Obviously, it’s not so mucky these days. The East Midlands Class 170 bug cart [they are actually comfortable, nippy, air conditioned and with quite a spacious internal layout] then took me back home at a leisurely pace and all the way to Lowdham.

John brought me up to speed later in the day. Britannia had failed at Oxenholme and had to be replaced with a Class 37, which itself had then failed on the return from Carlisle on the way back to Crewe and had to be rescued by two Class 20s at Tebay. A shame for those whose big day out had been spoiled, but I confidently predict that Britannia will be back to try again before too long. Rule Britannia!

Going to the Match

How going to the match has changed over the years. It started with my friends’ dad’s car through the Birkenhead tunnel, before the Wallasey tunnel was opened. Then we parked in terraced side streets or even on rough ground, some of which had not been rebuilt on since gaps had been created in the densely populated urban landscape by the Luftwaffe. After that, the Wallasey tunnel cut down travelling time as we graduated to our own cars, and 1960s demolition of out-dated housing close to the ground created plenty of new spaces for parking, wherever any remaining rubble had been removed or sufficiently flattened. You did not have to pay to park, but it was advisable to cough up a silver coin or two to the local lads who had promised to “Mind yer car, Mr?”, beforehand.

Improvements to public transport and to the Merseyrail network, in particular, then made it easier to rely on connection services at the new Moorfields station. Getting off at Kirkdale, we would run from the station to the ground and back to the train again afterwards. No more running today, I’m sad to say, but another option is the dedicated coach service picking up at a local Wallasey pub and providing a door-to-door service.  

Living away and visiting relatively infrequently, the new ground at Bramley Moore Dock is probably logistically a little easier for us than Goodison Park was, though we had our workable systems in place there, as well. They involved parking on an arterial road at some distance from the ground and relying on a brisk walk and a quick getaway by road after the game. From the Queen Hotel at Chester this time, we simply crossed the road to catch the four-car Class 777 EMU to Moorfields from Chester station, which is overlooked by the statue of the prolific railway builder, Thomas Brassey. There are lots of stops along the Wirral line but fast acceleration by the new units illustrates their suitability to these commuter routes. Up two escalators to the Northern line platform at Moorfields means we have a single stop journey to Sandhills, followed by a ten-minute walk to the Hill Dickinson Stadium. It was very straightforward. After sitting down for a couple of hours, we were glad to stretch our legs on a very direct walk back into town, parallel to the dock wall, and ending up at James Street station. From a 7.30 kick off, we were back in Chester by 10.30.

Before entering the stadium, I was reminded of how sensitively this development has incorporated elements from our industrial heritage. There were the dockside railway tracks that served the transit sheds and warehouses. Also retained are some surviving capstans, where the freighters had tied up alongside the dock wall to unload their goods. I’d once cycled on these flagstones, though maybe making sure I wasn’t too close to the edge of the docks themselves. It was a risky business, for sure, especially as I couldn’t swim at the time, but ship spotting came first on those Saturday mornings, now such a long time ago.