You Wait Ages for a Flight of Locks.....

 My trip to Audlem and its canal was the first time I'd been near a canal lock for ages (we don't have them on the Lancaster Canal) but no sooner had I returned from a week's break there than I found myself alongside another flight - this time in Wigan.

I have an old friend who lives very near the Huddersfield Narrow Canal in Mossley, but as Mossley is in Greater Manchester, local lockdown rules mean that I can't visit his house, or even his garden, and he can't visit me. He's not allowed to meet anyone in a house (or garden) but he is allowed, although "not advised to" go to the pub. As a resident of my part of  Lancashire, none of these rules apply to me, which I think means that if I were to visit him at home - or he to visit me - he would be breaking the law but I wouldn't! (If you think that's confusing, other parts of Lancashire have different rules). Last week, we decided that as far as we could tell it would be acceptable for us to meet for a walk and if that walk happened to lead to a pub, then so be it.  

We chose to meet in Wigan - partly for transport reasons, partly because we know the town has a number of good pubs and partly because Wigan Locks on the Leeds & Liverpool Canal would make a good pre-pub walk.  We both travelled by train. I left Lancaster at just after 10.45 on a late-running "Avanti West Coast" Anglo-Scottish express.  After much thought, I'd bought my ticket using the Northern Rail app on my phone (Using Northern Rail because it is now publicly-owned - and not just because it was 5p cheaper than getting it at the privatised booking office!). I've always been very wary about buying electronic tickets, being convinced that my phone battery will run out and leave me unable to prove I have one when the ticket inspector comes round.  But I needn't have worried - as I expected, no-one at Lancaster or Wigan stations or on either train bothered to check.

Despite coming from different directions and indeed on completely different lines, our trains arrived within a couple of minutes of each other at Wigan North Western station. I'd decided that I would prefer to walk down the flight rather than up, so we caught a bus to New Springs, which crossed the canal about a kilometre beyond the top of the locks. Given how empty our local buses have been since lockdown I was surprised - and pleased - to see that the 575 we caught was almost half-full, which I would have thought was about "normal" for a mid-morning journey from Wigan to Bolton.

Duncan and I go back a long way and have a lot of canal boating history. Inevitably we reminisced about previous trips up - and down - the flight and in particular how green and pleasant the flight now appears compared to when we first knew it in the 1970s.  I didn't take any photos for comparison, but I have unearthed one from a trip in 1980 when Duncan and I were part of a crew taking two Willow Wren Kearns hire boats from Middlewich to Leeds (and beyond) and back on a holiday in 1980

Leaving Lock 74 in 1980. Today all you can see are trees.

No doubt present-day holidaymakers find the current scenery more attractive, but it certainly lacks the atmosphere of those days.

To the Pub

We walked to the bottom of the flight and along the towpath to Wigan Pier (well, you have to, don't you?) and then alongside the main road back into town. Our first stop was the Swan & Railway, back opposite North Western Station

                               .

I was in the Swan & Railway one evening in April 1979 when the news came through that the Labour Government had lost a vote of confidence in the House and Prime Minister Callaghan was to resign and call an election. The Labour Party had no hope of winning it and I said to my drinking companion that it looked as if we were in for four years of Tory rule.  How wrong I was; the election ushered in the era of Thatcher and Major and  it would be 1997 before we saw the back of them!  The Swan & Railway has had a chequered history too, becoming very run-down and even closing for a while, but under new management it seems to be thriving again (as much as any pub can at the moment) and even sells a very acceptable pint of Draught Bass, which I much prefer to any of the multitude of over-hoppy and "citrussy" alcopops churned out by modern craft brewers. (So there!).

The Swan & Railway had no food on, so we had to move  to the Raven, another famous Wigan pub once owned by Walkers of Warrington. Being in the pie-capital of the western world we had to try one (with chips, mushy peas and gravy obviously) but sadly, we weren't impressed. The beer wasn't up to much either, so it was back to North Western station and to one of Wigan's newer pubs - "Wigan Central", which is actually built into one of the arches that carry the viaduct carrying the West Coast Main Line;

Wigan Central, with a graphic of a loco that would be more at home on the East Coast Main Line!

As with many pubs in the "Covid-19 Era", were met at the door and shown to a table. Table service has become the norm in many pubs (although not the Swan & Railway, I noticed) but Wigan Central has an interesting twist.

When you have chosen your drink, as shown on the Laser-Display Board ((c) I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue")   you move the sempahore railway signal on your table from "Stop" to "Line Clear", by flicking it up. A waiter appears and takes your order and having delivered it, re-sets the signal ready for next time! 

Ready to Order at Wigan Central

                                     

They didn't do Bass, but did have a very acceptable pint of "Limestone Cowboy", which was described as an "English Bitter", despite being brewed by the very Welsh sounding "Bragdy Cwrw Iȃl.

Whatever its nationality, it was excellent beer and as Wigan Central is only a very short walk from the station - in fact it's just above the pub ceiling - and the bar has real-time departure boards for both of Wigan's stations on display, we decided we had time for another before going our separate ways.

And in case anyone thinks we were being irresponsible, Wigan was removed from the Greater Manchester restrictions within hours of our visit as its infection levels are so low.

Audlem in August

 

Audlem locks

Hilary and I are just back from a week in Audlem, not on a boat but in a holiday cottage. After a long period - predating lockdown - of not being able to go away much we finally got the chance last week, provided that we didn't go too far or for too long.  A short-notice search for holiday accomodation "within 100 miles of Lancaster" (but excluding seriously busy places such as the Lake District or the coast) turned up a handful of possibilities of which Audlem stood out immediately.  Having passed through there many times on Starcross and other boats I'd always wondered what it might be like to live there, so here was a chance to find out, if only for a week.

Although the canal, and particularly the flight of locks, were an attraction, we chose Audlem primarily as base for cycling - it being at the hub of a network of quiet roads radiating in all directions from the village. Not that we ignored the canal, of course. Indeed on our first afternoon after arriving we took a walk up and down the flight, closing a few gates for boaters and dropping paddles for a solo boater who appeared to have "forgotten" his when leaving the lock. 

 Afterwards, finding ourselves outside the "Shroppie Fly" we treated ourselves to our first pints of draught beer in a pub since March.  I have to say that it was a surprisingly normal experience. Apart from the barmaid wearing a face visor, we just ordered at the bar, paid in cash and took our drinks to an outdoor table. Naturally, I didn't even find it strange that an attractive young woman in a pub was asking me for my name and phone number (although she hasn't called me yet!).

But the main focus of the week was cycling. Even the two A roads that meet in the village square were lightly trafficked and they gave access to a large network of even quieter "yellow" roads that were just hilly enough to make life interesting without being exhausting. Although in Cheshire, the Shropshire and Staffordshire borders were not far away and we travelled through all three counties over the week.

Cheshire County Council must have been one of a number of rural authorities that took the government's policy of removal of old-fashioned signposting from  roads as an "aspiration" rather than an "instruction" back in the 1960s and so I was able to indulge my passion for photographing the old milestones and fingerposts that abounded there but have disappeared from many parts of the country.  My favourite was this one in the hamlet of Wilkesley.

Note the Cheshire County Council ("CCC") badge on the post and, most unusually, the maker's name at the base

 

The rather improbable W.H.Smith & Co of Whitchurch, which was actually a foundry and not a chain of booksellers!

That example was on a junction of two minor roads, but Cheshire also retained some fingerposts on "A" roads such as this one we came across on the A529 which was supposed to have been removed when its modern replacements were installed, although it appears that maintenance and repainting has since ceased.

In a car you probably wouldn't notice these signs. Indeed one of the reasons for replacing them was that modern traffic goes too quickly for them to be of much use and it was felt that drivers slowing down suddenly at junctions to check directions would be a hazard to faster traffic behind. (These days it would be called "traffic calming"). Even when you do notice them - and other things of interest -  from a car there's never anywhere to stop to take a photo, which is one of the reasons I like travelling by bike. 

The Great North Road Bus Trip: The End, A Summary and A Comparison

Day 7, Friday 22nd March 1991

Bus 26: Dunbar to Edinburgh

I completed my journey from London along the Great North Road from Dunbar on another Lowland Scottish double-decker, on service 106 leaving Dunbar High Street at 09.30 and arriving at St Andrew's Sq bus station in Edinburgh at 10.57, which is not, perhaps, the best introduction to that fair city.

Journey's End: 26 buses from London and the rather unlovely St. Andrews Sq. bus station

I still had to get to the Scott Monument, the notional end of the journey, but that was just a short walk away.  When I got there for the obligatory photograph (but having omitted to take one at Trafalgar Square at the start) I found it covered in scaffolding and under repair.

   The Scott Monument (under cover) and some nice Edinburgh buses in Princes Street

The fare from Dunbar added £2.05 to the total cost of the journey from London, bringing that to £45.20 although I could have reduced that by £2.50 by buying an Explorer ticket in Whitby rather than at Middlesbrough. I found later that this was roughly equivalent to the single train fare between the two capitals at that time.

Summary

I'd ridden on 26 buses: Twelve double-deckers, eight single-deckers with "coach-type" seating, three ordinary single deckers and three minibuses.  I'd travelled on the buses of the following companies:

London Buses

Welwyn Hatfield Line

United Counties

Viscount Bus & Coach

Lincolnshire Road Car

Leon Motors

Selby & District

Yorkshire Coastliner

Tees & District

Northumbria Buses and

Lowland Scottish

In 2020, f these, only Yorkshire Coastliner exists in a recognisable form, albeit in French ownership. Some of the others still exist as legal entities but with different trading names. The private contractors that run London's buses also do so in a way that requires them to adopt a common identity that would be recognisable to the traveller in 1991.

Every bus ran within five minutes of its booked time. There was some trouble with a sticking door at Grantham and a temporary loss of air pressure (for the brakes) at Newcastle but otherwise no breakdowns, no accidents and no ticket inspection (becasue one of the first things the privatised bus companies did was to sack all the imspectors and rely on better records from electronic ticket machines to protect revenue).  The buses were generally not very well used and only once did I have to share a double-seat. Parcels (once a significant traffic on rural buses) were being carried between Alnwick and Berwick and, apart from the London Routemaster, all fares were collected by the driver.

Replicating the Trip Today

What, I wondered, would it be like replicating the trip today?  For a start, the planning would be much easier. Bus timetables are now widely available on the internet and the whole trip could have been planned well before setting off, having excercised appropriate caution however, as - believe it or not - not everything on the internet is true or even up-to-date.

Having planned the buses, I could have just as easily booked the accommodation. In fact, I would have been wise (in pre-Covid times) to have done so. Because it's so easy to do, it has become the norm and consequently it has become much more difficult to just turn up somewhere and find a bed for the night. Some proprietors will even refuse a room to "walk-ups" as they feel there is something suspicious about people who have not booked in advance.

And how about the buses themselves?  Bus travel has been in steady decline for many years. How easy would it be to make the trip 29 years on.  The existance of online journey planners such as Traveline allows a comparison to be made, although during the current Covid-19 pandemic services are not running at "normal" levels and are changing more frequently. 

Entering "London to Edinburgh" into a serach engine and specifying "bus only" would probably cause it to blow a fuse and certainly wouldn't result in an answer. But by breaking the journey down into its component parts I have been able to make some interesting comparisons.

Day One.

In 1991 I left Trafalgar Square at 10.00 and travelled via North Finchley, Potters Bar, Welwyn Garden City, Hitchin and Biggleswade to arrive Bedford at 17.15 (although the Biggleswade diversion was optional).

In 2020 Traveline suggested a route via Holloway, Barnet, St. Albans and Luton getting me to Bedford much earlier at 15.24, which would probably mean that I wouldn't have opted to spend the night there.

Day Two.

This was a Sunday. In 1991 I couldn't leave Bedford until 11.40 and then went via Rushden, Corby and Peterborough to Stamford arriving at 17.46

Thanks to Sunday opening of shops, buses now run earlier on Sunday mornings and in 2020 I could have left well before 11.40, but if I had chosen to leave at 10.57 I could have stayed on the bus through Rushden to Kettering, changing there for a bus to Corby and after a short wait, getting another to Peterbrough arriving at 15.58.  My friend Janet would, however, have had to come there to pick me up as in 2020 there is no Sunday service on to Stamford.

Day Three

In 1991 I went via Grantham, Lincoln and Scunthorpe to Doncaster.

In 2020 I would have been spared Scunthorpe, but I would have had a problem in that the buses between Stamford and Grantham now run on a "dial-a-ride" basis and require at least 24-hours notice to book a seat. Assuming I had been able to get over this hurdle I could have left at 08.25 (35 minutes earlier than in 1991) and still gone via Grantham and Lincoln (which would still have been on "service 1" as it was 29 years ago) . From Lincoln, Traveline would send me via Gainsborough rather than Scunthorpe to Doncaster and consequently got me there much earlier - at 14.55 - so I would almost certainly have continued northwards. Alternatively, had I wanted to follow the Great North Road more closely, I could have left Stamford two hours later (again assuming I could have booked a seat in advance) and gone via Grantham, Newark and Retford.

Day Four

In 1991 I had a simple journey to Whitby, changing at York and Malton.

According to Traveline, in 2020 there are no longer any buses northward along the A1 from Doncater. An enquiry for "Doncaster to Whitby" results in a suggestion to take a taxi (but doesn't tell you how much that would cost), while even "Doncaster to York" results in a route via Barnsley and Leeds. At least from York the journey would be more familiar, with just the change at Malton and an arrival at 16.40. However, I suspect there is a problem with the data on the Traveline website for this section.

Day Five 

In 1991 I took a fairly complicated route via Middlesbrough, Stockton-on-Tees, Durham and Newcastle to Morpeth, stopping there because it was too late to continue.

In 2020 Traveline denied that it was possible to make this journey by bus and suggested another taxi. However, it also claimed it wasn't possible to get to Durham or even Middlesbrough from Whitby so there is defiinitely a data issue here.

Day Six

Day six was an example of where it is actually much easier to make a bus journey today than almost thirty years ago.

In 1991 I left Morpeth at 0920 and trundled around the coast to Alnwick where I waited over an hour for a connection to Berwick arriving at 12.45. 

In 2020 I could leave Morpeth five minutes earlier on a through bus to Berwick along the Great North Road and be there for 10.57. This would have meant that I'd have had time to have a good look around the town and then continue, two hours later, via Galashiels to Edinburgh where I'd have arrived at 16.57 and a day earlier than in 1991.  On the other hand, if I'd really wanted to visit Dunbar, where I stayed overnight in 1991, I could only have done so by travelling via Edinburgh anyway, so I wouldn't have bothered.

Cost?

The bus industry keeps its fares a closely-guarded secret online so it's not possible to say what the cost of such a journey would be today, although for me one of the few benefits of being 29 years older is that, apart from the section north of Berwick and the odd pre-0930 start, my bus pass means that it wouldn't cost me anything at all.

It's reassuring to know that even after 29 years of change - and unfortunately overall decline - of the bus industry in the UK that it is still possible to make journeys such as this, as long as you don't need to be in Stamford on a Sunday or go directly from Berwick to Dunbar.  Who knows, when all this pandemic business is over with I might go and do it again - this time in the other direction perhaps.

The Great North Road Bus Trip Day 6: Morpeth to Dunbar

Day 5 saw me regain the Great North Road at Durham but came to an unpleasant end at Morpeth.

Thursday, 21st March 1991

I've no idea what breakfast in "the hotel" at Morpeth was like, although based on my experience with the rest of the establishment I probably didn't bother to find out. At least it had kept me out of the heavy overnight rain that was sufficiently "heavy" for me to record it in the diary. (Perhaps it was coming through the roof!)

I said goodbye to Morpeth on Northumbria Motor Services service X18 (a "Leyland Leopard" single-decker) at 09.20 heading for Alnwick, Northumberland's county town (although the seat of local government is back in Morpeth). We followed the indirect, coastal route via Amble and Alnmouth during which the weather brightened considerably, making for a very pleasant 75-minute  ride.  "Explorer" tickets were still valid this far north, although it seems that today mine cost me 25p more than yesterday's bought in Middlesbrough.

Bus 24: Alnwick to Berwick-upon-Tweed

After a hour or so in Alnwick I continued northwards on another "Northunbria" bus, this time service 515 and yet another Leyland Leopard. When I came this way in 2017 on my way "Around the Edge of England" I was pleased to find that the equivalent services northwards from Newcastle and all the way to Berwick-on-Tweed were operated by double-deckers, so presumably buses were busier then than 25 years earlier.  The 515 was the more direct of the two available routes northwards from Alnwick and lengthy stretches followed the A1 and therefore the Great North Road.  Arriving in Berwick at 12.45 I had the option of continuing northwards on a through bus to Edinburgh almost immediately or waiting almost three hours for the next one. I'd not been to Berwick before, so thought I'd take the chance to have a look round, although I pretty soon regretted it.

Berwick, from the old bridge

Berwick was smaller than I had anticipated and my notes record that "there was not much to see". Having been back several times since I can now see I was doing the town a grave injustice and it's now one of my favourite English towns!  In 1991 I did manage a walk along the town ramparts and over the old bridge and back, but the Good Beer Guide pub, the "Free Trade Inn" that I'd hoped to visit, was shut.  I've been back there too and realised that I'd missed a treat.

Berwick Bus Station and Garage

One thing I did notice in Berwick was the bus  garage. Most unusually, this was shared between two bus companies:  Northumbria Motor Services, which operated buses to the south and Lowland Scottish Omnibuses, which ran to the north. Whist this made sense during the long, regulated and competition-free era of bus travel, when both companies were publicly-owned, it became increasingly anomalous during the de-regulated era. Firece competition broke out between the two companies on local services, which eventually saw Northumbria emerge as victor and, with historical parallels, the Scots retreating north with their tails between their legs.  When I returned in 2017 the depot and bus station had completely disappeared and been replaced by shops. Northumbria Motor Services and Lowland Scottish Omnibuses were also history.

It was a "Lowland Scottish" service 104 bus that took me away from Berwick at 15.30.  NBC's equivalent in Scotland was the Scottish Bus Group and a similar process of privatisation and deregulation applied north of the border. "Lowland Scottish" was created out of the larger "Eastern Scottish Omnibus Co" and eventually wound up in the hands of First Bus, having started life as a management buy-out in 1990.

Explorer tickets were not valid north of Berwick, so I had to pay another £2.90 to complete the journey to Dunbar. Once again, this was largely along the A1. At Burnmouth wwe turned off to follow the route via Eyemouth and Coldingham Moor. Some sources say that this was the original route taken by travellers between England and Scotland and that the more inland route followed by what became the Great North Road came later.  It was certainly a more scenic route and included a double-run down to the coast at St. Abb's.  The two routes come together again at Cockburnspath and continue to Dunbar, which we reached at 17.00.  It would have been possible to complete the journey by continuing to Edinburgh, altbhough it would have meant a late arrival in a big city, so as I was able to find accommodation relatively easily I opted to spend the night in Dunbar.  I was, of course, very much aware that the town was the home of Bellhaven Brewery, at that time held in very high regard by real-ale drinkers as one of a very small number of independent Scottish breweries producing decent beer.  I don't think I ever came across the brewery during my stay, although I did find a pub selling the beer.  The brewery is still in business, albeit now owned by the large brewing and pub-owning group  Greene King, which means that its beers are no longer of much interest to real ale fanatics, although no doubt the locals still enjoy them.

According to my notes, today was a short day  with only 3h 47m travelling spread over a 7h 40m period, with much of the balance spent in Berwick.  Fares came to £6.65 and brought the total for the journey so far to £43.15.  Apart from a few diversions around Amble, Alnmouth and St. Abbs Head I had followed the Great North Road reasonably faithfully all the way.

to be continued