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.

     

Peak Forest Revisited

After an earlier recce during the Christmas holiday period, when all was quiet in Great Rocks Dale, we stopped off briefly on our way to Chester more recently and found it was a hive of activity. From the overbridge next to the former Peak Forest station on the old and much-lamented Midland Railway route between Manchester Central and Derby that used to thread its way through the Peak District, this relatively short section of the former main line is still busy with stone traffic. It also maintains semaphore signalling from Great Rocks Junction signalbox. Limestone from the Buxton quarries at Tunstead, Hindlow and Dowlow is distributed across the country from here, largely in the hands of Class 66s from Toton depot. Nos. 66021, 66077, 66200 and 66205 were on site at the time of our visit, as was another 66, probably from Roberts Road, Doncaster, whose identity was hidden behind the hoppers.

GCR, with the lads

It was the Saturday of the GCR’s two-day spring steam weekend. It was a little cool, showery and blustery when we assembled soon after 9.30 in the station yard at Quorn and Woodhouse. Motive power was provided by visiting engines, Battle of Britain Class No. 34072 257 Squadron, 9F No. 92134 [posing as No. 92073], Austerity tank No. 3809, Hymek Class No. D7018 from the West Somerset Railway and the Class 101 DMU from the home fleet. The BB, on loan from the Spa Valley Railway, and the 9F returning for a further stint on the GC from the North York Moors Railway, are both survivors from Dai Woodham’s Barry scrapyard in South Wales, where we saw them both in decrepit condition in the mid-1960s, now very nearly 60 years ago.

We had never had a lads’ train day on the Great Central before and I was very grateful to my mates for making the relatively long journey over from the Wirral that had necessitated an early start for them all. Our two absentees this time were also in our thoughts as we took a morning cuppa in the excellent Butler Henderson café at Quorn. These get-togethers assume greater significance with the passage of time and we’re already very grateful, I’m sure, for the many days like this one that we’ve enjoyed in each other’s company. Every occasion provides a lasting memory or two that continues to bind us together as lifelong friends. The railway always provides the background, but it’s the people that make the day.

A traverse of the line behind the 9F took us first to Leicester and then on to Loughborough, where we had a quick look round the museum and station before returning to Quorn on the bug cart in time for lunch in the bar at the Manor House, opposite the station entrance. I have to say that we found this experience just splendid. We were made very welcome and a table for five was provided in no time. The food was great and we received excellent service throughout.

As the sun broke through, we took the very full train to Leicester, due, no doubt, to the popularity of the Squadron as our motive power, and travelling first class this time so we were assured of the seats we required in order to sit comfortably and digest our lunch. Finally, it was back to Butler Henderson café at Quorn for another cup of tea and a piece of cake to round off the day.       

Living apart for all these years, these days of reunion have been priceless for me. They allow me to reaffirm friendships, get up to date with family news from the various different quarters, as well as laugh and reminisce about the spontaneity of our youthful past. From 60s spotters to 20s septuagenarians, we are drawn back to our common railway heritage to mull over football, relationships, park life and our place in the world as post-war baby boomers - and all for the “nth time”, not that that matters at all. As Ian Dury put it, “Reasons to be Cheerful, 1, 2, 3” [and probably many more, too].

The final twist on Saturday was that the 9F had been renumbered as 92073. This was presumably because that loco was once employed on the Annesley runners, also known as the fast freight wind-cutters, carrying coal and steel on the GCR in the 1960s. However, she ended up elsewhere, and the shed plate that she bore on Saturday was of 8H Birkenhead Mollington Street that we used to frequent on many a Sunday morning, travelling there by bike from our homes in Wallasey. Sure enough, when I checked out my old spotting books, there she was on Birkenhead sheds on 3^rd January 1967 and it wasn’t even a Sunday -though it was the Tuesday of our Christmas holidays. Some things are just meant to be.