Peak Rail yet to peak

It was decided that we would go to Derbyshire, but not by train, this time. First stop, Rowsley, now the end of the line for the single track Peak Rail from Matlock. It’s hard not to come to the conclusion that the reinstatement of the old Midland Railway route to Buxton has always been a good idea just waiting to happen - more or less since it closed in 1968. I’m also sure that there are very good reasons why all such plans have been thwarted, so far.

Operating out of the original Matlock station since 2011, re-connected to the main network, and with a site of 28 acres to make use of that includes a 60-foot turntable at Rowsley South, Peak Rail can’t be accused of dragging its feet, yet when you compare expansion here with some of the other leading heritage railways, you have to conclude that they should surely have benefited from more active support from other relevant parties. After all, this was one of the most scenic main lines in the country. The route threads its way through a glorious national park and is within easy travelling distance from many major centres of population, enabling a comfortably timed day out for millions. Yet, in summer, the roads creak with the strain and parking becomes a real problem, but the railway is not even there to relieve the pressure. What an opportunity overlooked.

Perhaps Rowsley is a case in point, serving as a microcosm for the difficulties faced along the whole length of the line. The Grade II listed Rowsley station building sits marooned in a retail park, surrounded by the fashion outlets and coffee shops of Peak Shopping Village. As such places go, this one has at least made use of stonework of a similar hue with some sympathetic paving, all, presumably, conditions of any development at all.

I had a scout round for evidence of former railway usage. I found a rack for hanging fire buckets, though not all the brackets were intact. The building itself is occupied in part by an art gallery, open 3 days a week, and also by the provision of a “community space” which is available for hire.

At Bakewell, the remaining station building now overlooks the Monsal Trail cycleway. No loo there, so I was relieved when I read that the public toilets in the town centre have won a gold award in all of the last four years. The tourist information was selling a book about the original Bakewell pudding [not tart], which was being attributed to someone called Ann Summers.

We took the country route home past Ogston reservoir. Last time we came this way, we stopped for a pint at the Napoleon Inn, wonderfully positioned overlooking the water; ideal for leisurely refreshment on a summer’s evening. Nice and quiet, I thought, as we wheeled in off the narrow road and onto the gravel car park. We strolled up to the front door. The family inside eating supper round their own dining room table gazed out through the window at us in surprise, if not with some alarm. The Napoleon Inn had ceased to exist in these premises years before, it transpired, and we were on the point of gate-crashing the incumbents’ quiet Sunday evening meal. The penny dropped and we slunk off back to the car as quickly as any surviving vestige of dignity would allow.

That’s the trouble with Derbyshire, I muttered to myself. Lots worth preserving, but too many interested parties competing for a slice of the action.