Zummerzet

West Somerset on the road to Back of Beyond

When I retired it was my intention to see a bit of the world. It’s a big place and there are plenty bits of it I haven’t discovered. Some of those bits are not too far from home, in fact discovering bits of Britain to which I am unfamiliar can be as much fun as visiting places a ten hour flight away. To be fair, I wasn’t completely unfamiliar with Somerset. Many years ago I went there with my mum, dad and sister, staying in Weston-Super-Mare. I know we visited Cheddar Gorge and the Wookey Hole Caves but more than that I can’t remember. I believe it was the last holiday I ever spent with my dad. Earlier this year I got a bit of a preview of the west of the county when I went on a steam train excursion that took me from London to Minehead and back. What I saw of Somerset looked very nice but there wasn’t much exploring to be done other than the couple of hour we had in Minehead. With some time off in October, Elaine and I decided that Somerset might be a good place to spend a few days. Airbnb came up with a place that looked ideal so we booked it along with flights to Bristol and a hire car. Once safely ensconced in our Vauxhall Corsa which unusually but thankfully had a spare wheel, we set off from the airport to discover the county of Somerset (and a bit of Devon).

You can wait a long while for a bus round here.

It turned out that it is quite a big place. The Airbnb was situated a mile or so outside Brompton Ralph. No, we had never heard of it either. This is unsurprising as despite being only ten miles from the county town of Taunton, Brompton Ralph is the epitome of Back of Beyond. The instructions as supplied by the Airbnb owner were accurate which is just as well as Google Maps had some funny ideas about what constitutes a semi-decent road round there. Even with the instructions there was no avoiding single track roads with, if you were lucky, passing places as long as you didn’t mind disturbing the hedge. Speaking of which, the hedges were frequently high making a drive along such lanes rather claustrophobic and, at times, scary, especially when a tractor was coming the other way. When we found the accommodation, an hour and a half had passed since we set off from the airport. Somerset is no Rutland. The accommodation was a modern annexe to the owner’s modern house set in a five acre garden surrounded by farmland. It was very comfortable and well equipped. There was no mobile phone signal and whilst good wifi was provided, the internet had two speeds: slow and oh for God’s sake. Not that this mattered of course, we weren’t there to phone anyone or watch Netflix. It got quiet and very dark at night. I saw the Milky Way. The real one, not the chocolate version.

Traditionally milled flour was available

The following day we began our discovery of West Somerset. Well, not quite. The hire car had a puncture. With no phone signal (I’m sure the owners would have let us use the landline had they been in at the time) there was no way to contact the recovery service so it was a case of changing the wheel myself. As mentioned, we were thankful the car had one, it is by no means a given nowadays. Wheel changed, we set off for Dunster Castle. This isn’t really a castle, though it once was, more a country house set on a hill or tor as they are known down there. It is owned by the National Trust and was doing a brisk trade on this October Saturday. It looks a quite a magnificent building from a distance and proved to be so close up too. The gardens are basically the sides of the tor and kept pristine despite the difficulties the gardeners must have in pruning the pansies on a near vertical face. We got on the attic tour which showed some of the rooms that have been left empty and unrestored and are just as interesting as those grand rooms with portraits of the family ancestors on the walls. If you like old buildings, this is a good ‘un. If you don’t it’s a nice place to have a wander around. As indeed is the village of Dunster at the bottom of the hill. It basically consists of two streets and relies on the tourist trade to keep its shops going but is none the worse for that. We went into Minehead for tea where I had the most enormous mixed grill. After it I vowed never to eat meat again. That lasted all of a day.

Dunster Castle overlooks Dunster village.

The following day just happened to be my birthday. What better way to spend it than messing around on old trains? I know I’d been on the West Somerset Railway’s track earlier this year but as we were so close it would have been rude not to go on it again. The WSR is one of longest preserved rail lines in the country at 22 miles. It runs from Bishops Lydeard in the south to Minehead on the coast and there are eight stations between the two. It is quite a big organisation with fifty full time staff and around a thousand volunteers catering for 200,000 visitors a year. Whilst it is loved by steam enthusiasts, families, day trippers and just about anyone else visiting that part of the country, it also proves a handy thing if you fancy a walk. We bordered the train at Bishops Lydeard and, hauled by the same locomotive that had been on duty when I was there in the summer, we chugged sedately to Watchet. Here we disembarked and set off to walk the eight or so miles to Minehead. The walk is part of the West Somerset Coast Path and, as you might imagine, follows the coastline though once you leave Watchet there’s a bit of woodland to pass through. Once clear of the trees there are some glorious views to be had across the Bristol Channel and of the Quantock Hills. There’s quite a lot of static caravan parks too but one of those in Blue Anchor did have a cafe where we had lunch. Once in Minehead we had a bit of time to have a wander around before boarding the train to take us the full length of the railway back to Bishops Lydeard. The train is limited to a rather pedestrian 25mph but with the smoke and steam from the engine up my nostrils I was hardly going to complain about the journey taking an hour and twenty minutes.

West Somerset Railway loco number 53808, affectionally known as Gladys (by me and me only)

Steam and old railway stuff. It brings a tear to the eye.

Gladys hauls the Down service past Dunster Castle as we took the coast path.

As I mentioned earlier Somerset isn’t particularly small and it was an hour and a half’s drive to Wells, our destination on the following day. Wells lays claim to being the smallest city in England though the square mile of the City of London means it loses out on a technicality. It’s a pleasant little place though with a whopping cathedral, and the adjacent Bishop of Bath and Wells palace wasn’t exactly bijou either. It doesn’t matter what your religion is or indeed if you don’t have a religion at all, the great cathedrals of England are really quite awesome. Wells is no exception and what’s more you can get in for free, assuming you have a sufficiently brass neck to avoid making the suggested donation that looks for all the world like an entrance fee. Fair enough. We paid up. There was a school concert happening which provided a pleasant musical accompaniment to our visit. It climaxed with the Circle of Life from the Lion King which makes a nice change from the hymns and stuff you normally get in a place of worship. We decided to abort our plans to head further northeast to Bath and instead headed back a few miles to Glastonbury. Instead of a big cathedral, this small town has a big hill called Glastonbury Tor towering above it. We walked up to the top and were rewarded with nice views over the Somerset Levels. We also walked back down again and ended up in the town which was, well, it’s hard to describe. I’ve never been to a place with so many pagan, hippie, new world and crystal healing shops. The tor has been associated with paganism and religion for millennia and the place is a mecca for your latter day tree hugger. Many of the better off hippies actually live there. King Arthur is buried in the grounds of the abbey apparently. Please excuse my scepticism. We stopped off in Wellington for tea on the way back. This was another small town but much more straight laced than Glastonbury. It had both a Waitrose and a Wetherspoons. More my sort of place I think.

Wells Cathedral. Impressive for a city the size of a postage stamp.

Glastonbury Tor. An easy amble to the top.

Typical Glastonbury retail outlet. Yinyang hiddle hi po…

We spent the next day in Devon. I know I’m supposed to be extolling the virtues of Somerset here but Exmoor, most of which is in Devon, was just a few miles to the west and decided we had to go and have a look. Exmoor is Dartmoor’s less well known sibling but it fills all the criteria of a moorland national park. It’s got moors, though a lot of the land is farmed too. It is a bit remote, has small lanes, you are likely to have to avoid a feral horse or two and there are hidden towns that you’ve never heard of before. It also had a very nice area called the Tarr Steps. The steps referred to a clapper bridge across the River Barle. If you are unaware as to what a clapper bridge is, just think of a straight Stonehenge – piles of stones with big flat stones between them. A bit like a normal stone bridge really only with no mortar holding the stones in place. They regularly collapse whenever the river swells following heavy rainfall. The one at Tarr Steps is the longest one in the country. We did a little circular walk along both riverbanks and had lunch at the adjacent pub. It felt as tough we were miles from anywhere, probably because we were. After this we headed to Lynton and Lynmouth, twin villages on the coast, one at the top of a cliff, the other at the bottom. Between the two is the Cliff Railway, a funicular powered by water. It’s quite a simple concept – the two carriages are linked with a cable, the one at the top fills a tank with water, the one at the bottom empties its tank. The heavier car descends the track pulling the lighter car up. Once it reaches the bottom the operation is repeated and without the need for electricity the two cars spend the day ferrying people up and down the steep cliffs. Of course you don’t just go to Lynton/Lynmouth just for that. Well, I could but most people would want something else. You get that though with the views, not to mention a whole world of ice cream opportunities. It’s a nice place.

We declined the offer of the rope swing to get us to the other side.

Lynton and Lynmouth Cliff Railway. The longest and steepest water powered funicular in the world, not that there’s much competition.

Lynmouth valley. Water, trees, hills, six quid entrance fee.

Over the next couple of days our further travels took us to a couple of other National Trust properties. You are spoilt for choice with NT properties in this neck of the woods. Montacute House near Yeovil is an Elizabethan Mansion. Whilst it has undoubtedly a rich history from the Elizabethan period it has achieved much greater fame as the basis for Tottington Hall in the film Wallace and Gromit and the Curse of the Were Rabbit. Such is fame nowadays. The other house was Tyntesfield. We stopped here on the way back to the airport which gave us limited time. It wasn’t enough, the house and gardens are spectacular and huge and warranted much longer than a couple of hours. The house is Victorian, built by one William Gibbs whose phenomenal wealth came largely from Peruvian bird shit. Guano was big business (sorry) back then.

Tottington Hall. Its the spitting image of Motacute.

Tyntesfield, just before the fire alarm went off.

The house that bird shit built displaying its autumn colours.

So there you have Somerset (and a bit of Devon) in a nutshell. We wondered if six nights might be a bit too much but, as it turned out, it isn’t near enough to do the place justice. We would definitely go back, perhaps staying somewhere a little bit more central. It was lovely being on the edge of Exmoor but it did feel like a place you wouldn’t want to get a puncture.

Steam

Number 6233 Duchess of Sutherland. What a sight!

Is railway nostalgia a uniquely British thing? Do the Dutch go weak at the knees whenever a steam locomotive hones into view? Is Italy getting covered in heritage rail lines? Are there societies in the Japan dedicated to the preservation of obsolete Diesel locomotives? I don’t know the answer to those questions, though I’m aware that heritage railway lines are not restricted to the UK. I don’t think any country goes as far as ours, however. One website I found 181 different heritage railways and tramways listed in the UK, Isle of Man and Ireland. It is clear that old trains are a big draw, not only for a day out but for those who give up their time to keep these examples of industrial archaeology alive. Whilst there are those concerned with preserving diesel and electric locomotives, it is fair to say that the main draw is the steam locomotive. It’s been over fifty years since steam hauled trains ran regular scheduled services on the UK’s mainline network but the desire to experience steam power first hand is, it appears, stronger than ever. Perhaps it is because the British invented them. Richard Trevithick made the first full sized steam locomotive, John Blenkinsop the first that was commercially successful and, most famously of all, George Stephenson produced the first that would haul passengers. Other countries may well do railways better now but we’ve always got this to be proud of.

Just look at that filth. Makes you proud to be British. No wonder the blokes on the footplate are smiling.

There’s just something about steam locomotives that stirs the senses. The sound, smells and sight of one puts a smile on your face. Even those who have no interest in trains turn their heads when a steam train goes past. Ask anyone to draw a train and you are likely to be presented with one with steam emerging from a stack at the front. Despite diesel and electric trains having ruled the roost for fifty years, there is still a big market for those wishing to experience the power of steam. Earlier this year I decided that it would be a nice day out to go on a steam excursion. An internet search revealed many to choose from. These take place on the national rail network and by and large utilise preserved engines and rolling stock. I say by and large as there are engines out there that have been built from scratch quite recently. One, named Tornado, is almost as popular as the preserved examples despite it being built by a charitable trust in 2008. It was the first steam locomotive to be built in Britain since 1960. Even more popular than Tornado is the Flying Scotsman, arguably the most famous steam locomotive in the world. Built in 1923, this engine has been active on and off since being spared the scrapman’s blowtorch in 1963. Excursions hauled by Flying Scotsman command premium fares.

The excursion that I chose was not hauled by either of these fine locomotives. The LMS Coronation Class 4-6-2 Pacific 6233 Duchess of Sutherland, a locomotive popular enough to have its own Facebook page, was on duty. The excursion, which I took with my two brother-in-laws Andrew and Martin, was called the West Somerset Steam Express and organised by The Railway Touring Company. This commenced at Paddington Station and headed westward to Taunton after which it left the national rail network joined the heritage line of the West Somerset Railway. At Bishops Lydeard the Duchess was replaced by one of the WSR’s own locomotives and the tour continued to Minehead, the terminus of the WSR. We were then to retrace our steps back to Paddington where we were due to arrive the best part of fifteen hours after we’d set off. There were three levels of service we could choose from, Standard Class, First Class, and Premier Class. The latter was First Class with breakfast and dinner served at the seat and is what we opted for. Our seats were at the very back of the last carriage for the ‘down’ (ie, outward) journey meaning we would be next to the engine on the ‘up’ journey back to Paddington. The prospect of the steam, smoke and ash coming through the window on that return leg was quite appealing.

The Old and the Even Older. The 79 year old Duchess of Sutherland next to a 41 year old Class 43, aka Intercity 125 at Taunton.

We departed at the appointed hour, 8am, and were soon tucking into a Full English served by the attentive on board crew as we headed through the London suburbs towards Reading. Here we left the GWR mainline to Bristol and headed down the Taunton line before the first of two scheduled stops to take on water. One of the disadvantages of steam power is that it needs water to make the steam and steam locomotives need a lot of steam so are particularly thirsty. On a steam excursion this is no real problem as these stops provide good photo opportunities and the passengers on board like nothing better than taking photos. So do other folk. Many steam geeks were spotted on the way with their cameras and tripods at the ready. Other people just stood in awe and watched as the Duchess and her eleven carriages thundered past. The power of steam extends beyond mere traction it would seem. The top speed recorded was 75mph, nothing compared to the modern Azumas that regularly whizzed past us, but with a full head of steam it felt as though we were the fastest people on the planet at that time. It was a marvellous feeling. At Frome we took on more water courtesy of the local Fire Brigade, took more photos, before we eventually made Taunton. A normal train would have got us there a couple of hours earlier but where would have been he fun in that? Another wait at Taunton (more photos) followed before we finally crossed the points at Norton Fitzwarren that took us on to the West Somerset Railway and its southerly terminus at Bishops Lydeard. Aren’t place names in this neck of the woods wonderful?

53808 takes over hauling duties at Bishops Lydeard. Just look at all those happy snappers.

Here, a lengthy break ensued as Duchess was taken off to the engine shed for a well earned rest and one of the WSR locomotives, the 1925 vintage 53808. A former freight hauler, this engine was not nearly important enough to have a name but it had sufficient horsepower to haul ten coaches (one coach remained with Duchess) and several hundred passengers to Minehead. The excitement amongst those passengers reached fever pitch as the engine change meant even more photo opportunities. I mean two steam locos in the same shot? Does it get any better? Once coupled up to 53808 we set off north towards Minehead. The WSR has been a heritage railway since the mid-seventies. It has one of the longest tracks too, twenty miles, with seven stations and one unstaffed halt between the two terminuses at Bishops Lydeard and Minehead. It is a single track with passing loops and this combined with a top speed of 25mph, means a journey from one end to another takes an hour and twenty minutes. On this section of the trip we certainly didn’t feel like the fastest people on the planet but the West Somerset scenery is very pleasing on the eye and of course the extra stops meant more photos as the WSR’s normal services were allowed to pass. At Minehead we had two hours to wander round the place. We each had a cake. It was huge.

Here we see WSR loco 935, tender first, passing us at Blue Anchor, leading to much excitement amongst the passengers.

Nice though Minehead was in the summer sunshine it acted merely as a break for the steam nostalgia. Back at the station we boarded our carriage, now at the front of the train just behind 53808’s tender, and settled down for the return journey. The slow journey back to Bishops Lydeard saw commencement of the dinner service, the soup dispensing waiting staff glad of the leisurely pace we were making on WSR rails. Arriving at Bishops Lydeard where we were due to reacquaint ourselves with the Duchess of Sutherland there was an announcement. The Duchess had, apparently, been a naughty girl on the earlier outbound journey. The cinders she belched out had caused two separate trackside fires near Castle Cary and Network Rail were none too pleased. They slapped a blanket ban on steam services on their tracks and as a result we were marooned at Bishops Lydeard. Here’s a thought though – back in the day when Britain was covered in railway lines and steam locomotives were everywhere, did the country come ablaze with trackside fires every time there was a dry spell? How on earth did we cope? We were informed that a diesel locomotive had been summonsed and was making its way from Southall near London to rescue us. In the mean time we were served the rest of our dinner to the sound of people moaning about ‘health and safety’ rather than the music of pistons and the rattle of train on track.

Our saviour arrives, sadly with no need to use the water tower.

Eventually the diesel locomotive turned up and we pulled out of Bishops Lydeard some two hours behind schedule. In itself the replacement locomotive was something of a museum piece. A Class 47, it had been one of several hundred of the type that earned its keep in the sixties and seventies, doing the sort of things steam locomotives had been doing a decade earlier only without setting the embankments on fire. It is rare nowadays to get a train that is locomotive hauled as most modern trains are multiple carriage sets with the diesel or electric motors, and sometimes both, built in. In a way it made the journey back to Paddington even more unique but it was scant consolation for missing out on our chance to be next to the Duchess literally going full steam ahead. The vague smell of diesel fumes did not compensate for missing out on nostrils full of smoke and steam, ash in our hair or indeed the unique sounds of steam power. On the plus side a Class 47 does not need to stop to take on water and it made up nearly all the time we had lost by travelling at a constant 70mph between Taunton and Reading. We pulled into Paddington just twenty minutes late.

47 802 did a sterling job in getting us back to Paddington. It just isn’t the same as steam though.

Whilst the enforced engine change was disappointing, it was a grand day out. It is one we want to repeat, not on the same trip but one of the many others there are to choose from. The Premier dining seats weren’t particularly cheap but the experience was good, as was the food served so I’m glad we did it. Maybe next time I’d stick to the normal First Class seats and take a picnic or just buy stuff from the buffet car. In an adjacent carriage there appeared to be a party going on with several couples having brought their own liquid catering. Some of them seemed somewhat inebriated by the time we reached Reading. That’s Reading on the way out, not the way back. It is a long time in a train seat so I’d probably pass on the standard class seats though they would certainly have a bit of retro charm about them. For the first half hour at least.

A few days later I discovered this video on You Tube. It shows the West Somerset Steam Express thundering past the Crofton Beam Engines in Wiltshire alongside the Kennet and Avon Canal:

By pure chance I took a photograph out of the window as we passed that very spot, hoping to capture some steam, a narrowboat and a lock in the one frame. I inadvertently captured the guy who made the video too, slightly obscured by steam.