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rhythmaningMy brother was in Scotland over his birthday, and, lacking ideas for a suitable present, I was prompted to steal one from Michael Portillo after watching the rerun of a rerun of a rerun of his travels through Britain by train. I booked two tickets on the Jacobite. Actually, since my brother had never travelled first class on a train, I booked first class tickets. (This was true at the time of booking; but by the time of the trip, he had travelled up the East Coast route to Edinburgh first class, since it was as cheap as second standard class.)
First we had to get to Fort William, a great if apparently dangerous drive. Strangely, the two possible routes (north then west, or west then north) take almost the same length of time (according to Google maps!), so having been through Glencoe several times in the last year, we went north up the A9. There were still patches of snow on the hills. At one point we were stuck behind a convoy of two massive transporters carrying huge earth movers and their police escort; the vehicles were wider than a single carriageway, so even on the dual carriageway bits the police wouldn't allow overtaking. They pulled over into one of the large parking areas just past Drumochter to allow the mile-long queue of traffic to pass.
We turned off ourselves at Dalwhinnie, stopping for coffee at Laggan before heading west in the shadow of Creag Meagaidh and the ridge of mountains to the south, leading to Ben Nevis. We were early at Fort William, and wanted around the town a while. I haven't stopped at Fort William fit several years, despite driving through many, many times; but there isn't actually much of a reason to stop.
The train was in the station. Steam trains are very beautiful. I can't explain why, but there is something about a stream engine that is attractive in ways that other locomotives are not. I went to a steam rally a few years ago, and it was the same there - steam traction engines have an allure that modern industrial power doesn't. (Unless, perhaps, you are a young child obsessed by tractors and lorries.) Perhaps it is simply nostalgia.
Either, the large black engine (my brother knew the type, but it's not really important to me) was at the platform, breathing fire. We took our seats, plush, broad seats designed for the Fat Controller. The train was full, mostly of middle aged men, many with their wives or partners. Needless to say, everyone was a tourist.
The train was going from Fort William to Mallaig. And back again. I have made this journey - the West Highland line - several times, most recently by rail a year ago; I know the road well too. The town of Arisaig is one of my favourite places, and I love this bit of the north west Highlands.
I would be surprised if many of you were not also familiar with much of the area, though you may not know it. Large chunks of the Harry Potter films were shot here; the Jacobite is the Hogwarts' Express. (During the school holidays, they rebrand the train for some rides, just as other steam trains become Thomas the Tank Engine on occasion.)
Most famously, the line traverses Glenfinnan on the Glenfinnan viaduct. (In the movies, it's where the car is flying, trying to catch up with the train.)
The whole thing was pretty wonderful, but the Glenfinnan viaduct was particularly memorable, a broad curve with mountains on one side, and a sea loch (where Bonnie Prince Charlie landed - hence the train's name, and the reason for the Glenfinnan monument, and much of the historical interest in the whole coastline. There are a very many caves marked as "Bonnie Prince Charlie's cave") on the other.
All along the route, the views are excellent - Ben Nevis at the start (head in the clouds), various lochs and sea lochs, forests and mountains; empty beaches and views across the sea to the small isles and the mountains of Skye. It is all wonderful.
We had fish and chips in Mallaig, and a pint, and walked along the quay. And back. There's not a lot to do in Mallaig. We are our fish and chips sitting on the quayside under the watchful eye of greedy gulls.
Travelling by steam is very different from more modern forms of rail. The rhythm of the pistons, the noise of the steam, the very chuffing from the chimney, all add to the experience.
First we had to get to Fort William, a great if apparently dangerous drive. Strangely, the two possible routes (north then west, or west then north) take almost the same length of time (according to Google maps!), so having been through Glencoe several times in the last year, we went north up the A9. There were still patches of snow on the hills. At one point we were stuck behind a convoy of two massive transporters carrying huge earth movers and their police escort; the vehicles were wider than a single carriageway, so even on the dual carriageway bits the police wouldn't allow overtaking. They pulled over into one of the large parking areas just past Drumochter to allow the mile-long queue of traffic to pass.
We turned off ourselves at Dalwhinnie, stopping for coffee at Laggan before heading west in the shadow of Creag Meagaidh and the ridge of mountains to the south, leading to Ben Nevis. We were early at Fort William, and wanted around the town a while. I haven't stopped at Fort William fit several years, despite driving through many, many times; but there isn't actually much of a reason to stop.
The train was in the station. Steam trains are very beautiful. I can't explain why, but there is something about a stream engine that is attractive in ways that other locomotives are not. I went to a steam rally a few years ago, and it was the same there - steam traction engines have an allure that modern industrial power doesn't. (Unless, perhaps, you are a young child obsessed by tractors and lorries.) Perhaps it is simply nostalgia.
Either, the large black engine (my brother knew the type, but it's not really important to me) was at the platform, breathing fire. We took our seats, plush, broad seats designed for the Fat Controller. The train was full, mostly of middle aged men, many with their wives or partners. Needless to say, everyone was a tourist.
The train was going from Fort William to Mallaig. And back again. I have made this journey - the West Highland line - several times, most recently by rail a year ago; I know the road well too. The town of Arisaig is one of my favourite places, and I love this bit of the north west Highlands.
I would be surprised if many of you were not also familiar with much of the area, though you may not know it. Large chunks of the Harry Potter films were shot here; the Jacobite is the Hogwarts' Express. (During the school holidays, they rebrand the train for some rides, just as other steam trains become Thomas the Tank Engine on occasion.)
Most famously, the line traverses Glenfinnan on the Glenfinnan viaduct. (In the movies, it's where the car is flying, trying to catch up with the train.)
The whole thing was pretty wonderful, but the Glenfinnan viaduct was particularly memorable, a broad curve with mountains on one side, and a sea loch (where Bonnie Prince Charlie landed - hence the train's name, and the reason for the Glenfinnan monument, and much of the historical interest in the whole coastline. There are a very many caves marked as "Bonnie Prince Charlie's cave") on the other.
All along the route, the views are excellent - Ben Nevis at the start (head in the clouds), various lochs and sea lochs, forests and mountains; empty beaches and views across the sea to the small isles and the mountains of Skye. It is all wonderful.
We had fish and chips in Mallaig, and a pint, and walked along the quay. And back. There's not a lot to do in Mallaig. We are our fish and chips sitting on the quayside under the watchful eye of greedy gulls.
Travelling by steam is very different from more modern forms of rail. The rhythm of the pistons, the noise of the steam, the very chuffing from the chimney, all add to the experience.
