Another leisurely start this morning, wandering across a bright and breezy Manchester and side-stepping the detritus of what looked like it had been a good night out. Time to get a decent coffee before boarding a local service out to Stockport where I was to pick up today's excursion. Ideally, I'd have boarded further back on it's journey from the East Lancs Railway - allowing a chance to traverse the connection at Castleton and the Brewery Curve, left out of a tour last summer due to stock clearance issues. However, the impossibility of finding anywhere reasonably priced to stay or fairly close to the railway, and the unreliability of an early tram to get me out to Bury meant I'd gone for the easy option. So, today presented a fairly gentle itinerary - a spin out to Cambridge with 40145, then some uncharted territory for the loco on a Stansted-bound minitour. Time for breakfast at Stockport as a few others gathered ready for the picture of the 40 crossing the viaduct and arriving in the station.

Settled in, finding myself sitting with a veteran from a previous tour. He proved equally as miserable as last time, so I resigned myself to a quiet day of travelling - wondering if it would be rude to don headphones and provide a soundtrack to the scenery as we entered the Hope Valley, with amazing views of Kinder Scout and Mam Tor or "The Shivering Mountain". As we headed into less dramatic scenery I began to zone out a little and for the first time in a few days, found myself feeling genuinely relaxed. Dozed my way along the Erewash Valley before realising we would pass Toton Depot. It was strange not to have any advance notice of the times or routing of the trip, but nonetheless a passing of the last major locomotive depot in the country is always welcome, especially as a few locos which are currently based in France were present for attention. From Toton we headed through Nottingham and pressed onwards towards the East Coast Mainline.

A little after leaving Gonerby Tunnel we slowed to a stand. Stopping here seemed fairly routine, given how busy the line is through Grantham. However a few minutes soon turned into a longer wait, with little evidence of activity in the deep cutting. A look back along the train confirmed the worst though - with the headlights of a following service evident in the tunnel, our assisting engine 67023 was being started. As we began the slow propelling movement into the Up and Down Goods Loop at Grantham, the situation became clearer. 40145 had suffered a flashover on the No.4 traction motor and couldn't continue. Considering the tricky location, the 67 was run around as soon as possible and we pressed on around 90 minutes late. The Stansted trip was now out of the question with just one engine, as the reversal at the airport and Bishops Stortford couldn't happen. So pressing on through Peterborough and across the Fens to Ely I consoled myself with a longer break in Cambridge and some mileage with 67023 which was, after all, a required engine.

Didn't stray far from the station at Cambridge, with the city a very long walk away. Rewarded with some interesting activity around the station, and rather surprisingly a flypast by a Lancaster Bomber - a plane I built endless models of as a child but never dreamed I see flying! Took some hurried pictures, hampered somewhat by the overhead lines here. Managed a spot of lunch too, before lining up for a shot of the strange and rather sad sight of 67023 hauling a dead 40145 into the station with the stock. The route back largely reversed the outward run, but in order to stay awake and to enjoy the tail end of the warm sunny day, I found myself near the window enjoying the views. In any case, my miserable seating companion was upset that he'd sustained a splinter by licking the wooden coffee stirrer he'd picked up in the buffet. I had to retreat to avoid laughing openly at what he obviously considered a grave misfortune. A pleasant, quick run back despite the change of traction.

At Stockport, a quick cross-platform connection into a late running Pendolino bound for Piccadilly. The evening was just beginning for the considerable crowd of pretty people waiting for the train into the city. For me though, sleep beckoned after a rather odd day out. I can only hope that the CFPS is able to get 40145 back on the mainline soon.

Movebook Entry

Bank Holiday weekends mean time to escape the West Country. The solid mass of traffic which pours into the area makes life tricky - but it's a necessity for the local economy I suppose. My strategy, as ever was to get away and to travel against the flow. When planning these last weekends in August a month or so back, I'd not even registered the holiday as such. I made all my usual checks - for football fixtures, for rugby matches and so on - and I was even vaguely aware of an important fixture in London. Still, you can't check everything, as I was to discover. My journey started on a bright, cold platform. There was a nip of autumn in the air, which instantly lifted my mood. It had been damp and dark all week, and the promise of a little sunshine was welcome. I noticed how dark it seemed, and with the days drawing in now the sun hadn't properly risen as I changed at Weston onto the first train to London. Familiar territory, especially in recent weeks. The journey up to the city in the amazing sunrise and cold, clear morning was just what I needed. A quiet, relaxing trip spent reading and windowgazing. Even managed not to think too much about work, or indeed anything - which lately is a rare miracle given a range of preoccupations. Even found something of a spring in my step at Paddington, which surprised me as I switched to the tube for the short trip to Kings Cross. The fact the Hammersmith & City Line was even operating this weekend seemed to add to the sense of a charmed existence - as for the last few weeks it's been a confusing half-service, always going where I don't want to be.

I had plenty of time at Kings Cross before the train to Bradford. The aim was to try out another of our Open Access Operators - this time Grand Central. After a really positive experience on Wrexham & Shropshire, and memories of really good trips with Hull Trains before they became part of a larger empire, I've always liked the idea of an outfit coming to the railway because they want to run trains - not an addendum to a bus company, or a vehicle for creaming off subsidy - just a good old fashioned train operator. Settled in for coffee at the very establishment I frequented last weekend, before heading into the station. The green shirts of Leeds rugby fans were everywhere, and despite being a good-natured bunch I was relieved to be heading in the opposite direction, just to avoid the crowds. The Class 180, now in Grand Central livery was ticking over on Platform 1 - which meant I could watch the general confusion over Platform 0 as I waited to board. I suppose the concept of zero as a number in itself is a bit alien to all but computer geeks among us. People would wander over, looking resolute but unconfident, then peer under the arches to see if the platform was really there, before heading for the train. Amused myself in this bit of urban ethnography before boarding my own train.

The Class 180s didn't really get a fair chance here in the West. First Great Western seemed to use them sporadically and on the wrong services, and the reliability record was appalling. There wasn't much excuse for this, as their sister units in the North West improved immeasurably with a bit of dedicated work. When they finally found their way onto the experimental Exeter semi-fast service - one that suited them - they were already on the way elsewhere. Now they've scattered all over the place, and it's good to see some of them doing useful work. Settled into the comfortable First Class saloon, and was immediately attended to by a polite, chatty gent who offered me a better seat if I wanted. Soon off, and speeding out of Gasworks Tunnel into the sunshine, the morning getting warmer as we headed north.

One immediate difference in the experience on the Open Access services is the staff who, in the vast majority, actually want to be doing the job! They are keen to talk about the company - what they're trying to achieve, and why they're different. Passed a while listening to the chatter between staff and customers, but repeatedly picked up a message about how today was quiet because of "what was happening". Thought about looking up some news on the internet, but a quick leaf through the complimentary paper soon explained things...although the English Defence League had been denied a march through Bradford, they'd been allowed a static protest. The publicity had swelled the predicted crowds to thousands and thus a Union Against Fascism counter-protest was now happening too. Cursing my luck, and my lack of attention to the news in recent weeks, I wondered what to do. Grand Central were taking things seriously enough to taxi the staff away from the station and to their office. Reports were that several thousands were gathered and that things were already boiling over. This didn't look good at all.

On arrival at Bradford Interchange there were very few of us left on board. A Grand Central manager had joined the train at Wakefield and the staff were whisked away. I headed out of the station and onto the long ramp leading to the road. It was flanked by young, nervous-looking Police officers. They shuffled uncomfortably in their flak jackets, picking off the odd passenger to search. I managed to get chosen, and had a fairly heated discussion with a young PCSO who felt he ought to be deleting my pictures as they posed a "terrorism risk". A more experienced colleague told him "not to be so bloody stupid" and suggested I was "pretty weird but no way a terrorist". Finding a curious complement buried in that, I headed for coffee but found the shops mostly shut in the face of the possible trouble. Back to the station, noting that the rather oppressive heat and cloudy skies seemed to make the place feel even more tense. A huge collection of Police and private security officers barricaded the end of a road to a square where the UAF protest was in fine voice. Across town near the building site I'd surveyed from the Midland Hotel a couple of years back, the EDL were meting out their own brand of rather confused nationalism - which apparently had already included missiles being thrown. Time to go.

The train to Leeds couldn't come soon enough, and safely tucked into the station Starbucks and watching people passing along the fantastic art deco entrance hall, I reflected on my day. Somewhere in front of me, a resolute northern voice remarked on his drink to his wife: "Well it's not what I'd call coffee...". Not sure what he'd call it then, and didn't stay to find out. Struggled onto a busy Edinburgh-Plymouth service and after a brief altercation assumed my booked seat. After a couple of stations, I found myself alone, and managed to stretch out and relax with some music. I realised that, with my last odd travel experience already shaping into something of a short story, this too could find it's place. In the meantime, it had been a long and disjointed day out on the rails. I still can't think of a better way to spend them.

Movebook Entry

Woke uncharacteristically late for a comparatively leisurely start today. A pleasure to be in London, and to finally have shaken off the attack of the drabs which seemed to have started in Milton Keynes last weekend, and pervaded most of last week in some strange way. The plan was to make my way over to London Bridge fairly early and to get breakfast whilst waiting for the stock of the tour to arrive. Wandered over to Caledonian Road to find the bus stop and hopped onto a No. 17. This took an interesting route through Smithfield and The City before crossing London Bridge and terminating at the station. Interesting to see the city waking up as we passed by, and a somewhat different view of some familiar and much trodden ground. Found coffee and watched some of the usual faces arriving for the trip. Thought I'd managed to stay anonymously normal looking for a while until a shout across the concourse confirmed I'd be recognised...so I gave in and joined the assembly of cranks on the platform, after a pleasant chat with the gateline staff.

The stock arrived with 66710 leading into the platform. It was unusual to have a railtour starting here, and it of course attracted a somewhat different crowd of folks who perhaps don't make it to some of the stuff which starts in the Midlands and north. I noticed a fair few passengers left it pretty late in arriving, including the fellow occupants of my bay! Got shots of the two locos, as I realised I'd have few chances during the rest of the day, and settled into my seat. This was my first UK Railtour and I was surprised to see the same set of stock used as for one or two of their other trips I'd witnessed. The stock was in fairly good condition by Riviera standards, and whilst I didn't quite have the seat I'd choose with other tour operators, it was comfortable enough. We set off bang on time and started with the circuit to Waterloo, taking in the Linford Street Flyover. Built for Eurostar and now all but abandoned, we screeched our way over the high concrete structure, possibly the first train since last October's Buffer Puffer in fact? A very brief stop at Waterloo, before heading off again and using the equally rare Sheepcote Lane curve (again a means of getting Eurostart stock back to their former North Pole depot) for another reversal at Kensington Olympia - a station I seem to pass through on a weekly basis at present! Now underway in earnest and with 73204 leading, we managed to escape London's gravity with a speedy run out into Kent. The target was Sheerness-on-Sea, the first of the "Nesses" which gave the tour it's title. This involved traversal of the Western Curve at Sittingbourne, one of two bits of track which made this tour essential for me. The curve is used by some early services to get a unit onto the branch, but these are pretty inaccessible. After negotiating the tight turn onto the Isle of Sheppey, we crossed the flat and empty grassland, noting a fair bit of activity in the yard near the station - with a shunter and a pair of DRS Class 37s in evidence. Dashed out into the town briefly during our break here. A busy, but rather tiny place marooned on this forlorn stretch of the Thames Estuary. Time for further photographs before getting back on board for the next leg.

After departure from Sheerness, I braved the buffet queue and tried to stay awake with plenty of coffee. The lazy stroll around the edge of Kent remains an interesting journey in places, but I was beginning to snooze a little. We kept remarkably good time throughout this leg, losing only a couple of minutes outside Dover Priory. This led to the planned leg-stretch here being fairly short. Hopped off for a quick wander before settling back in for the next part of the run. I'd visited the Dungeness branch before and while it had been an interesting and rather eerie experience, it had been a long slow drag down the branch. As we approached Ashford, noted we were routed into Sevington Loop. Given that we were roughly on time, this seemed an odd turn of events. Eventually an announcement was made that the local Network Rail manager was querying the permission to head down to Dungeness with a Class 66, despite the class having visited before. This sort of issue has become an increasing problem over the last few year, and has had a huge impact on the type of trip I personally enjoy most. After a short wait, the management conceded and we headed into Ashford for the reversal. We finally got onto the branch around 25 minutes late, with little hope of making up much except for on the turn around. Dungeness was as I remembered it - a flat, rather desolate expanse of gravel and coarse grass. Lydd, the only settlement of note seemed isolated, with its rather forlorn abandoned station. Not sorry to leave this curious spot in some ways today.

A side effect of Network Rail admitting their earlier error was that every effort was made to get our train back on time on the run back towards London. Several Class 1 services were looped as we sped past, making up a fair amount of the time we'd lost in the process. An uninterrupted run from Ashford to Petts Wood Junction gave the Class 66 a chance to stretch it's legs impressively, and we were soon taking the rare curve at Beckenham Junction and heading back into London. We then undertook a fairly torturous circuit to get to our final destination, heading through Clapham Jucntion to Barnes and then into the tangle of lines around Acton. The next piece of line was the second highlight of the day for me - the tight, almost abandoned curve between Neasden Junction and Neasden South. We waited for some time for permission to proceed, and I wondered given our lateness if we might end up diverted elsewhere. But, eventually we crept forward, screeching around the curve and onto the Chiltern line, stopping beyond the signal for our reversal. Mission accomplished for me! The matter of the short run into Marylebone from here should have been straightforward, but the bank at Neasden presented quite a challenge for a Class 73 working on diesel power! The engine howled in protest as it worked up the bank, dropping to around 8mph at one point. Eventually the gradient eased and we picked up speed for the run into the terminus, only around 20 minutes late despite our complicated route in.

Commendably GBRf were to run the ECS back to Woking as a charity additional train, but having calculated the options for getting back into London, I decided that this wasn't a wise move - despite a short sliver of required track I'd missed last November too. Grabbed a snap of 73204 ticking over at the buffers, and headed out into the city. It had been a pleasant and fairly uneventful day, but a successful first jaunt with UK Railtours.

Movebook Entry

It's been a strange season for our local summer steam service. An early start, with some odd gaps in the programme. One other, almost traditional occurrence is that the charter will be diesel hauled at least once during the run - if only to upset the massed ranks of steam fans who religiously plod down to the station to watch... And with 71000 out of action, and other steam locos engaged elsewhere, today was that day...

Not the most interesting of traction choices, but it was good to see a loco which normally potters about on my commuter train to work getting to stretch its legs with a proper train for a change!

With the railtour scene mostly still on holiday and me just about dragging myself out of the expensive early summer rush, I found myself booking a couple of trips rather late. This meant a panic to find interesting routes with cheap tickets, and for this weekends trip I used Virgin's recent discount First Class offer to work out a trip along the southern reaches of the West Coast Mainline. Having done the run to Manchester fairly recently I decided to revisit Liverpool, with a circular route taking in a solid 500 miles of diverting travel. I'd last visited Liverpool as recently as January, and found it in transition - the area around Lime Street station in particular seemed to be opening up allowing new views of the city. Today started less promisingly than that bright cold January morning however, as I woke up much too early and found myself hanging around seemingly for ages on a damp platform. I felt out of sorts - and couldn't place why at all. I'd been looking forward to the freedom and solitude of a trip on service trains for a while, so it was strange to feel so disconnected from the trip. In anycase, settled in for a sleepy trip up to Bristol in time for the 07:00 service to Birmingham. Once again, my seat nemesis was around - but luckily didn't seem to be going for 1M21 this time. Got breakfast and settled in for a quiet ride up to the Midlands. I'd booked in a bit of a wait here just in case things went badly, and found myself with time to kill over a coffee. I found a spot where I could watch the comings and goings around the station, remembering it was only 08:30 or so - meaning the traffic was a mixture of families heading off on holiday, reluctant Saturday workers heading into town, and slightly bedraggled revellers from the previous evening. Felt a little more human, and headed down to find my train to Liverpool.

It was a strangely warm and uncomfortable ride up through Crewe, and I wondered for the first time today if I was succumbing to a virus or a cold? Distracted myself with some music and tried to avoid thinking too much about anything too concerning. Managed to doze and listen my way north, and soon found myself passing the depot near Edge Hill and plunging into the deep cutting which leads into Lime Street. My first thoughts on arrival focused on how tidy things were. The station had seen a much needed clean-up, particularly on the southern platforms which saw most long-distance trains. A new customer lounge and retail units now occupied the cab road, and the glass in the roof and station front had been cleaned to let in a huge amount of natural light. Explored a little more, before venturing out onto the newly created plaza with steps and slopes leading gently up to the impressive terminus. The work which had been in progress during my last visit, now complete, had done a huge amount to raise the profile of the station in the city. Noted however, that Liverpool Pride was due to take place today. Why am I unable to come to Liverpool without both feeling rubbish and finding some sort of parade or protest in progress? Perhaps they parade a lot more up here?

Once over the crossing and into the city centre, much remained as I'd seen it before - with the busy shopping area teeming with people on what had turned from a damp lunchtime into a surprisingly warm afternoon. Made a beeline for the coffee shop, but on the way spotted a bookshop. I've been ruminating on reading a lot this week, for a number of reasons, but realised I had nothing I particularly felt like reading. Found a couple of novels I'd thought of tackling before, before being dispatched to get a third one free by the cashier. This last choice - technically one which cost me nothing of course - took by far the longest. Found myself ending up with two books based in Glasgow and one London novel. I must be one of the few readers who categorizes their choice of reading in such a way? Got the coffee as planned, and made contact with the outside world, before heading back into town. By now, the sun had appeared and Liverpool seemed to have burst into life. Particularly impressed by the strange entertainment consisting of children being zipped into huge transparent plastic balls and hurling themselves around a small pool of water in the middle of the city. Made my way back to the station to find the patron saint of silliness himself in statue form, with Ken Dodd cast in a surprise meeting with Bessie Braddock MP. This has been here for sometime, but with the scene now lit from behind by sunshine, I had a chance to look at it properly. This also gave me an excuse to turn to get a picture of 390009 arriving to form my next service.

Slumped into the uncomfortable Pendolino seat feeling grim, and almost immediately dozed off. A couple of newlyweds nearby were enjoying a picnic of over-ripe cheese and other pungent treats which wasn't especially helping - though the service was good, with a Scouse host who would have happily dished out the entire contents of the complimentary refreshment trolley if he'd found takers for it. Half-snoozed my way south, waking at various points along the route and feeling surprised at how quickly we'd got there! Certainly remember speeding south through the middle road at Crewe, and passing Nuneaton and Rugby. After that, I recall the junction at Roade, and then nothing much until somewhere near Kings Langley. Here we began to pass a procession of trains on the slow lines, and I kept myself entertained watching out for these, and for the various depots at Wembley and Willesden. I arrived at a busy, fractious Euston feeling hot and uncomfortable, and not really knowing what to do next. The new couple also seemed to be oddly affected by Euston, as they bickered about Eurostar check-in times whilst scurrying up the ramp to the concourse. Things are never truly perfect, and an elaborate picnic hamper might well hide a multitude of oddities and potential disappointments. I realised I was being uncharitable and projecting my gloom onto this hapless and happy pair. I silently wished them no harm and a safe journey and slunk on my way feeling mean.

In the event, decided to head back to Paddington. Walked to Euston Square station, passing some of TfL's new hire bikes, and picked up a recent Oyster refund in the process of descending to the platform for the Circle Line - which was today, and now rather unusually, running as a Circle! Made the short hop to Paddington, but decided to head for the street instead of the station. I'd been intrigued by the hinterland behind the station since arriving by No. 46 bus a couple of weeks back. So I crossed Praed Street and ducked into London Street. I almost gave up here, as I found myself entangled with the sinister behind-the-scenes quarter of St. Mary's Hospital. Strange old buildings loomed beside the narrow pavement, mostly for storage but some seemingly abandoned clinical facilities. One particularly eerie building had vents down below ground level, and I was amazed to hear trains being announced from below! This must have covered part of the suburban side of the station somehow. Followed a further cobbled pathway, despite not having decent footwear for such wandering, and found myself passing between the high wall at the edge of the station site and blocks of medical office accommodation. Suddenly the scene opened out, and an impressive glass footbridge was provided to cross the Paddington Basin of the Grand Union Canal. Did so, noting that the bridge looked like it might be lit up at night, being constructed with a strange lightbox as its central section. From here, wandered back to the road junction where I'd come in from Maida Vale last time, and made the walk back over Bishops Bridge and into Eastbourne Terrace, pausing only to snap a picture of the Crossrail worksite beside Paddington station.

Despite the welcome and diverting walk, I still had a long wait until the customary train home. Amused myself with coffee, reading from my recent purchases and writing - trying to exorcise my predicament and the feeling that today hadn't gone too well. In fact, everything had run very much to time, and I'd had plenty of time to enjoy a variety of interesting spots. The problem today was me - too tied up in other things to think straight, and worrying about the next lot of trips and complications when I should be enjoying this one. I'll probably never learn...

Movebook Entry

It seemed like a long time since I'd been away from home, which is all the stranger given that I spent most of May and June zig-zagging across the country and setting up camp for weekends at a time in various spots. A few weeks of strangely introspective, mostly solo travels had been just the thing in some ways. There is such a lot of change in the air just now that these quiet missions to revisit far off places, sometimes in new ways, have become incredibly valuable, contemplative times for me. So, after a fitful night in a new hotel I found myself trudging the empty centre of Birmingham towards New Street at around 05:30. The hotel was fine - an improvement in fact, but my mind had been whirling around all night and I'd not really got to sleep for any stretch of time. Oddly, yesterday I'd leapt out of bed thinking it was today and I was late! Things are confusing just now it seems... Got to the station to find it almost completely empty. No hope of a coffee to wake me up, and as ever the lack of any advance warning of which platform the trip would use. This was a bigger problem today as no staff were in evidence either. Hedged my bets based on other departures, and spotted some familiar faces on Platform 3, so took a chance and thankfully got it right avoiding a last minute dash. Rewarded by the sound of 37610 thundering out of the tunnel, with 57003 already running on the back. Soon on board, meeting up with some very familiar Coach K faces and learning that 37611 hadn't even made the start of the tour, having failed at Carnforth on the empty stock move. Having spent a weekend in the Highlands with 37610 recently, rather disappointed not to have had 37611 - however, the performance put in by 57003 on the fairly straightforward run to Sheffield via the Old Road made up for this.

At Sheffield, we reversed and headed north via Moorthorpe and the complicated mess of lines around Wakefield, this took us over the Crofton to Hare Park section before using the curve between Calder Bridge Junction and Turners Lane Junction - a few chains of track I needed. Settled in for the run via Methley and Woodlesford, avoiding Leeds by way of the Whitehall Curve, completed accidentally on a previous similar trip. Discussion on board turned to the Settle-Carlisle route, and the fact that despite being one of the most famous journeys in the country, it was - well... a little bit boring! Having done the run already this year, I confess I wasn't too interested in the line - and it can be a tiresome slog when any chance of a picture is destroyed by 'normals' hanging out of the droplights for a view of Ribblehead Viaduct. However, the day was warming up outdoors and there was a steady supply of beer and conversation, so the trip passed pleasantly enough and rather swiftly in fact. Very soon we were arriving in Carlisle. A dash to get photographs followed, as due to a number of charters being in town our stock was to go to Kingmoor Depot.

Took advantage of a few hours break to wander into town and revisit some favourite spots. No pipe band this time, but while I enjoyed a coffee The Borders Brass Band struck up. Watched the busy town scenes whilst jotting some notes and thinking lazily about work and associated things. Realised I've become rather mentally lazy lately and not considered things too sensibly. Having put myself in some strange scrapes lately - which I'd normally avoid - it was good to take stock, and wander the city in the bright afternoon sun. Revisited the beer shop too and found that the proprietor had stocked up on brews from a few new local breweries too. Chatted for a while and pondered my choices carefully, tending to go for the lighter and hoppier summer ales for our trip home. Back to the station for a snack and another good coffee from the little van just inside the entrance, before joining the vast crowd of enthusiasts watching 6201 'Princess Elizabeth' manoeuvring to rejoin her train. There was a brief time that it seemed the loco wouldn't make the gradient from Upperby to the station - but slowly but surely the stock drew into the station. Around then a further charter arrived, having come from Kings Cross in the charge of 67024 and 67021. This stopped only briefly at Carlisle before returning south. Add a couple of passing freights, and there was something of a gala atmosphere on the platforms today.

Our stock soon arrived, with the predicted 66434 accompanying 66421 on the front. The loco, carrying the now defunct Fastline livery was a bit of a celebrity and caught the imagination of the photographers I noted as we headed east into the Tyne Valley. Again this is a slow route, but has it's pleasant points and is perhaps a route less travelled for me. Have often thought I should visit some of the communities along this line at some point, rather than flying through as I did again today. Noted we'd lost a bit of time, and a further check on the approach to Newcastle meant we crept in about a minute before we were due to depart. Thus the leg-stretch was cancelled (much to the amusing annoyance of one of the railtour scene's more persistent moaners!) meaning no chance of getting a daylight shot of 37259 and 37608 which were to haul us forward. As these were veterans of recent Cornwall and Scottish tours respectively, not too concerned by this. Soon off, and found myself chatting pleasantly in the vestibule with a couple of staff members as far as York. Here there was some confusion about the routing, which saw us fly through the station rather quickly rather than use the line behind the yard. The route from here was all a little uncertain, as news had reached us of a lineside fire at Swinton. Noted we were routed via the mainline to Doncaster, and thus watched the developing situation with interest.

Things all ran surprisingly efficiently from here, with us heading onto the line through Mexborough via the Goods curve, then using the 'old' line through Thrybergh Junction to avoid the closed section, then sitting briefly in Brightside Loop outside Sheffield to wait time before calling at the station. Here we were joined by another regular, doing a part fare back to Birmingham. Celebrated with further beer and had a very quick ride back with 37259 performing a little better after some attention during our stop at Brightside. Noted some inexplicable crossover activity at Chesterfield South and Clay Cross too, as we sped south towards home. Soon pulling into New Street, where the train was due to complete a final circle to regain the line to International without a reversal or run round. Headed back to my hotel, having had a strange and rather distracted day - but ultimately a sociable and pleasant one. Good to see a few more trips lined up too, and some from nearer home. However miserable I might sound sometimes, I'm never happier than when I'm travelling...

Movebook Entry