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This article was writen sometime bwtween 2000 & 2003 just before First Great Eastern lost the franchise to operate the contract for the Railway out of Liverpool Street station. It first appeared in a Local Essex newspaper - Brentwood Gazette as part of the style pages.
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By Dennis Rookard It's a cold damp Saturday morning, and to be honest munching an early morning bacon burger breakfast on Liverpool Street station at a little after 8 am is not really my idea of a fun start to a Saturday morning. But I'm not alone. Around me and all trying to look like innocent travellers are around 750 middle-aged gentlemen, most lugging give-away small over the shoulder bags. For this is a gathering of a secret army, one that has few females and is strictly a man thing. Oh yes, we have our secret signs, a small green ticket, and the gadget bag for camera and sandwiches. The word has already been passed that those in the know should gather near if not on Platform 10. Already a advance party in their quest for the best window seats have ventured though the barrier to take up position along the platform. The rest of us mill around finishing our breakfast. Suddenly part of the crowd surge forward. Not toward platform 10, but towards platform 16. Here the attraction is the arrival of one of First Great Eastern's trains – and the word is that this one has been painted dark Blue. Fifty or so press forward. Cameras flash and numbers taken. For this my friends, is a gathering of the great British train enthusiast. All assembled here at Liverpool Street station for a journey around Essex and a bit of Suffolk on board a rather dirty and down at heel Class 312 Electric Multiple Unit. To be fair, you'd have to be a died in the wool train nut to want to ride in one of the last of these units still in service. Even when brand new in 1976 they were unloved. Replacing sliding door stock with old-fashioned slam doors. So it's not surprising that now they are due to be scrapped no body wants to preserve an example. But we can still say goodbye. And thanks to Hertfordshire rail tours for organising this £15 day trip, and the goodwill of First Great Eastern - soon to lose their franchise, we were going to do this in grand style. Dead on time at 9am the last doors are lovingly slammed and our elderly unit nosed her way out on her non stop first leg of the trip to Southend. Now on a train full of railway experts and enthusiasts - and woe betide you if you call us 'train spotters' - they're a rather sad sub species, time takes on a whole new significance. The organisers had thoughtfully provided a booklet with arrival and departure times between stations and throughout the train the more picky among us sat with notebooks and stop watches expressing delight at arriving in Southend all of 2 minutes early. Not that Southend was going to hold any delights for the gang on the train. Indeed 20 minutes latter we were back on board speeding down the line to Shenfield. A change of drivers here before reversing onto Colchester line. With as we speed though Essex, a chance to get to know our fellow enthusiasts. This was the time our organisers announced their rules for the day. No hanging out of the windows - as if we would, and as the water tanks on board were small would we mind note wasting the water in the toilets. Oh yes, and not to forget to buy our raffle tickets to raise funds for the Essex Air Ambulance. Rail fans are generous in this way, with our train load donating on the day well over £800.
It was whilst we were rolling into the North Essex Countryside that I also discovered that one of my fellow travellers was the driver booked to take us down the branch line to Frinton and Clacton. "Why didn't you join the train at Colchester?" I asked. "Oh I don't know" he said with a huge grin, "I just fancied the trip." He was not alone, for a fair number on board were also fellow professional rail men many from other regions come to check out a rival network. You could tell who they were. They were the clustered few around the cab at each stop chatting up the driver. And it was frankly amazing just how many Rail men in bright yellow jackets who found any excuse to meet the train to check it over when ever it stopped. |
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But this was a voyage of exploration. Out of Colchester and onto the branch into Colchester Town for yet another photo opportunity, before heading down to Frinton. The idea had been to end up at Walton but that weekend the station was out of use for essential Station rebuilding work, so end to this particular branch line run was to be Frinton. Now the sight of over 750 men piling out of the station like an invading force of latter day Vikings rather put the wind up the good people of this Essex town where it's inhabitants go to die. One poor panicking white faced elderly lady, leaping out of her car to demand what was going on. I still don't think she quite believed the explanation that the camera-waving mob, were all heading for the level crossing to get an unforgettable picture of our train basking in the sun alongside a rare example of a manual signal, before mounting a raid on the local cake shop and pillaging the station shop of chocolate and sweets.
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Then it was back on the train, with the organisers reminding any interlopers that this was a special train, and rather then heading for Colchester, we were off to Clacton for an hour and half lunch break. At this stage I should give a mention to my fellow Brentwood travelling companions - Ian and Colin. Both are regular clients of this company who would normally travel the nation far and wide on rail excursions with the added bonus of enjoying breakfast, lunch and dinner as part of the experience. Not surprisingly they became quite grumpy on discovering class 312 units were never equipped with dinning cars. Fish and chips on Clacton seafront for them, not being quite the same. But we Essex rail explorers needed our meal for the highlight was to be a run up to Ipswich, where the sight of a row of resting class 66 fright locos sent some of our party into raptures of delight. Whilst for the others yet another photo opportunity and cigarette on the platform before a dash back to Manningtree and a ramble down the branch line to Harwich town. A chance here for a final photo opportunity, before our run back to London. But if we thought our days excitement was almost over we were in for a surprise as the lads who man the Liverpool Street signal box that controls most of the network had devised their own unique way of saying goodbye to our elderly class 312. Not for us a normal run between Shenfield and Liverpool Street. No for we delighted fans, it was a case of traversing little used fright lines, running the wrong way down other lines and using lines normally reserved for stock movements, Yes the lads up in the box were having fun that Saturday evening as we finally eased our way into Liverpool Street dead on time at a little after 6.30pm. Why did I spend £15 for a day sat on a train wandering around Essex? Well you meet such nice people. And it's got to be better then standing in the rain watching 22 men running around a field kicking a ball isn't it. Dennis Rookard 1,282 words. |
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