The archive

It's been a rather odd, frustrating year for railtours. Lots of cancellations, lots of uncertainty, and a great deal of politics and rivalry entering the market. Amongst this, I've tried to do as many as possible, with an emphasis on rare or unusual track wherever possible.

I often find myself haunting the same places at the end of the year. As the official trips dry up, I seem to seek solace in a round of familiar journeys which take me back to places - sometimes significant, sometimes just familiar and interesting enough to divert my attention for the day.

My railway friends, locally at least, seem to spend a lot of time on the Southern Region. Perhaps it's because I did most of my ramblings here in the days of slam-door stock, and trains dividing and combining on route, that it sometimes feels just a little bit dull down there at times.

It's that time of year, once again, when I find myself in Glasgow for a little while. Having planned one or two musical things for later in my stay, I was content to see how this evening panned out. Faced with a choice which I'm just not used to, I…

It had been a surprising sort of day in all kinds of senses, and having set out for Bristol in the ubiquitous and mundane fashion of catching a slow, lazy sunday afternoon train but ended up completing the journey in a sports car driven by a attractive young woman, I figured anything was possible.

I'm beginning to see how this strange hobby of mine goes in cycles. Last week saw me needing to turn lost days and cancelled trips into something of a coherent journey. It didn't work hugely well, and there were times when the need to be somewhere else without purpose made me pretty miserable.

Regular readers, should any remain now the music stuff has headed elsewhere, may recall the 'Lost Weekend' series. Occasions when planned trips didn't happen but advance fares and hotel bookings had to be used.

Ever since Homegame, I've struggled to find a purpose for some things. Work in particular has suffered - the pointlessness and the lack of progress suddenly foregrounded, and my part in the whole process left exposed by a bunch of colleagues who are downright suspicious of my political motives.

Day Two of the Branch Line Society's big weekend away started at a much more reasonable hour, and I was pleased to find that breakfast and coffee were available at Crewe despite it being Easter Sunday. This set the tone for a nice, easy day's travel which was again focused on points east of here.