A Journey on the Highlandman
7.25pm Kings X to Fort William (Saturdays and Sundays excepted)
by The Laird
It is August 1932, the London season has finished and society is heading for the countryside and in particular for house parties and the grouse moors of Scotland and Yorkshire. One such traveller alights from his taxi at Kings Cross and a porter rushes over and starts loading his baggage onto a barrow. The porter glances at the label on a suitcase, 'Are you for the main train or the relief Sir? He replies 'The main train at 7.25pm', They enter the station, he stops at the newspaper stall to buy an Illustrated London News and a packet of Players cigarettes. At the barrier they have to wait as a N2 tank engine brings the train in. They move forward through the barrier, towards the first carriage at the rear of the train, the dining car. The porter turns to him and says ' If you want to book dinner Sir, I'll start loading your bags, the next three carriages are for Fort William'.
He walks towards the dining car Chief Steward standing on the platform in a pristine white jacket and gets his seat reservation ticket. 'Come down and take your seat as soon as you are settled in your berth Sir, we start serving as soon as the train leaves'. He nods his thanks and moves up the train to the first gleaming teak carriage, a Brake/3rd where his porter is loading his bags into the guards van, at the south end - stations Spean Bridge to Fort Augustus, north end - Crianlarich to Fort William and everywhere else in the middle. Baggage loaded, they move on up the train, passed the third class sleeper, four to a berth with just a pillow and blanket. The next carriage is first class, ten berths each with a bed with sheets and blankets, pillows, towels, wash hand basin and a door that can be unlocked to connect with the adjacent berth for those traveling with their wife.
On the door to the carriage a list of the occupants of the berths has been pasted which reads like a page out of Burke's Peerage. The sleeping car attendendant, wearing a black silk jacket emblazoned with LNER on the lapels and a red rose in his button hole checks his tickets against a list and retains them so that sleep will not be disturbed by ticket collectors during the night. 'You are in berth 8 Sir, this way please. The attendant shows him to his berth and takes a note of what time he would like to be woken with his morning tea. The porter places his overnight bag on the bed and with many thanks pockets his shilling tip.
He leaves is hat and coat in the berth and sets out for the dining car. There is just one sitting as it comes off at York. There are only 30 seats, barely enough to cater for the first class passengers, lesser mortals must go hungry! He take his seat and orders a gin and tonic and a half bottle of Beaujolais to go with his meal. The meal is four courses for 7/6, coffee extra. An hour and a half later with the train speeding northwards, stops at Peterborough and Grantham now a memory, the dining car attendants bring round coffee and offer cigars and liquers which sell well. Replete with good food, he returns to his berth where the attendant enquires if he would like a night cap and a glass of malt whisky duly appears on a small silver tray with a water jug. He undresses and gets into bed to sip his whisky and read the Illustrated London News. Tomorrow he will awake to the Highlands and breakfast.
Over night the train whisks him over the Border and on to Edinburgh where the train divides, the Fort William portion going forward to Glasgow Queen Street when it will be coupled to the morning train leaving at 6.30am. His sleep is not disturbed, shunts are smooth and fresh engines coming on press gently up to buffers, that is until a female voice shouts 'Ardlui'. 'Ardlui' and a knock on the door heralds the arrival of his morning tea and newspaper. He gets up, washes and shaves, the water is scalding hot, and as the train approaches Crianlarich he makes his way to the dining car an breakfast.
Breakfast on the West Highland Line is renowned, porridge or fruit juice, bacon. egg, sausages, black pudding, saute potatoes, grilled tomato and mushrooms or local smoked kippers from Mallaig, all with a much toast, tea or coffee as one can wish for 5/-. He sits enjoying his breakfast taking in the majestic yet remote grandeur of Rannoch Moor and marvelling at the engineers who managed to build a railway across such a land-scape. the train makes a couple unscheduled stops to pick up the wives of linesmen, heading for Fort William and the weekly shop. Soon Tulloch is reached and it is time to return to his berth ready to alight at Spean Bridge where he will change trains. On arrival he tips the sleepng car attendant who hands him down his overnight bag. The guard is busy unloading luggage and parcels traffic for Fort Augustus. Over the footbridge, the local train stands in the bay platform, a mixed traffic formation comprising two carriages with freightwagons attached at the rear. A porter transfers his luggage to the Fort Augustus train while he finds himself a left-hand corner seat in a first class comparment, a wise choice as the line is cut into the side of the hill for many miles and the only view is rock!
A jolt and shudder from the freight wagons and he is off, over the Spean Viaduct, a heavy west highland rain shower dampens his vision but soon the train reaches Gairlochy, a large station for the small communiy it serves, Two hardy souls alight and brave the rain, then with a toot from the engine they are away again. He gazes down at a windswept Loch Lochy with white horses dancing on the waves, and still it rains! The train hurries through the request stop at Invergloy and soon Invergarry is reached. There are several cars in the station yard and a number of passangers alight, luggage quickly loaded into the cars, presumably bound for the big houses at Invergarry and Glenquoich. The train passes through the fields of Aberchalder Farm, children at the farmhouse wave as the train passes, then they are skirting the lochan outside the Fort and as the train runs into the station at Fort Augustus a watery sun begins to shine. He smiles as he enters the Highland world again, some sixteen hours since he left London. Taking deep breaths of the fresh highland air with its feint tang of pine, heather and sheep, he strides towards the exit and his brother come to meet him in the battered old Ford estate car their Father allows him to drive. Uni is down and a house party in the Lodge awaits, vying with his brother for the attention of the young ladies. He can relax in the other world that is the Scottish Highlands.
Author's Note
Though this story is a work of fiction, it is factually correct based on the LNER's East Coast Carriage Working and instructions for loading luggage etc., effective date 18th July 1932. The front portion of the train was of six carriages for Inverness. In the summer months a relief train was run when necessary at 7.33pm, the composition of the train was identical to the main train. The main train reached York at 11.8pm, Edinburgh at 3.35pm, Glasgow at 5.30am and Fort William at 9.21am.
