The Hampshire Hog

Pathfinder Tours
Saturday 5th March 1994

This is one class 37 railtour that quickly became a classic, for all the wrong reasons!

In todays world of privatised railways it seems to be fashionable to make a get-out clause to guard against every possible eventuality, so, always willing to follows Railtracks example, here’s mine: It is over 3 years since this tour ran (sic), so if I get any details wrong then I should apologise in advance. I should, but I won’t. If you’re pedantic enough to want to send an e-mail to correct anything, then you should go and lock yourself in a cupboard...

Anyone who was at Manchester Piccadilly on 5th March ‘94 at a hugely unsociable 0426, freezing their bits off in a mk 1 coach was almost certainly off to Alton for a 2 hour 20 minute rampage on the Mid-Hants Railway, during their diesel gala. Chances are you were also wondering how long 37405 had been an nb tractor. It was cold, bloody cold infact, so cold that even the railway management couldn’t allow it to continue! So when we arrived at Crewe, 405 was torn off the front of the train and replaced with 425. At face value this seemed to one and all as a hip and groovy move. It was, however, the single big mistake of the day... Also it was during this loco change that, feeling a bit peckish (and no doubt a bit stupid) I decided to gamble some money on the chocolate machine on the platform... and lost! My spirits rose as the train gently warmed up, and I slumbered as we rumbled along the Trent valley to Nuneaton where we turned right and headed for Coventry and Banbury. At Didcot we did another right turn and slumped off towards Swindon (lovely place that, well worth a visit!?) That ‘red’ curve at Didcot was new track for me, as was the so-called passenger line through Melksham, where, incidentally, it was pissing down. Now any sane person travelling from Manchester to Alton will not get anywhere near Wiltshire, which, let’s face it, is always best avoided, but those Pathfinder fellows can be devious, to say the least. Before we were to be let loose on the Mid-Hants there was a quick fling along both Southampton Docks branches to be partaken. That was ok with me as both were ‘required’. So off we went towards juice-rail-land (cue ‘Psycho’ music)

We were doing quite nicely, and mostly content with our lot thank you very much, as we crossed into Hampshire at Dean, but at Romsey the signalman wanted a word with the driver...
"You can piss off out of here with that bloody thing."
"What?!" asked ‘drive’ somewhat perplexed...
"Ploughs... Ploughs are bad, so sod off!"
"Oh.... Shit!"

You see ‘Concrete Bob’ was still dressed for winter, and winter is something that they rarely have in the South, hence the juice rails ruling. An agreement was reached. As we pulled out of Romsey station ‘drive’ stuck his left arm out of the cab window to warn other road users (?), and we were taken to Eastleigh instead of running through to Southampton. It was at this point that the timing sheets went out of the window. If you go down there now you’ll still probably see great piles of them at the lineside... We pulled up just outside Eastleigh, where 2 fitters were waiting armed to the teeth with giant hammers, huge monkey wrenches and one of those sets of jewellers screwdrivers in a little plastic wallet. Patiently we waited (most of us anyway) as the 2 super heroes with the pliers attempted to save the day. The sound of miniature snowploughs been shamelessly abused with hammers echoed all around, but after what seemed like several months, defeat was accepted. 425 was then removed from the train by illegal means with regard to signals, and replaced by 47297. It has been said that a riot broke out in the front coach, it was not even as if the hard-core tractor bashers could get off the train had they wanted to, there was no platform (not that that would stop some people I know...)

Me? Well I scratched the 47, but don’t tell anybody! We were moving again, and firstly we went to Western Docks, then back to Eastleigh, then off to Eastern Docks, then once again to Eastleigh. Somewhere during this lot 37375 was added to the train to top ‘n’ tail along the branches. Truly the finest machine experienced that day, and yes, another scratch! When we arrived at Eastleigh for the 3rd time ‘Bob’ had been hacked about some more and was eager for the off, so the 47 was put back where it belonged and off we went towards Alton (at last) just a smidgen late... Havant, Haslemere, Guildford, Aldershot and finally Alton. The guy who had been waiting at Guildford to join the train and sell tickets for the gala had long since given up on us, so we arrived at Alton bereft of the necessary documentation that would allow a ride behind the visiting 37. As we arrived a train was just about to leave for Alresford. The men who were in-the-know knew that it was to pass the 37 en route, so it could be got at. It, alas, was not to be. The staff of the Big Pants Railway refused to allow us onto the platform until the train had left... cheers! We were made to watch it leave, and then see the 37 arrive later (nice). At 1736 we left that God-forsaken hole (late!) and romped off through Woking, Virginia Water and Hounslow to Neasden. Warning: boring bit coming up... The Chiltern Lines... This would be painful at any time, but in the dark when you’ve had a bad day... the agony beggers belief! We set down a lucky few at Banbury, and also at Leamington Spa where the thrash on departure was unreal, because we weren’t moving. Suddenly it all went quiet, an owl was heard hooting in the distance and the vultures were circling... 425 was dead. The excitement of a day away from the North Wales Coast had been too much. ‘Drive’ was unable to coax ‘Bob’ back into life, and the Pathfinder chaps gave up with the brave face routines. A fresh engine was sent for. A couple of hours later it arrived. 47580. A big red bucket. But I don’t think anyone cared any more. A few utter Neds took photos, or filmed it backing onto the 37, while the rest of us sloped back on board, wondering why we hadn’t bothered going to get something to eat, and even when we would get the chance to eat again as we had the West Midlands and the WCML to deal with (plus, for some of us, a trip over the Pennines) before we got home.

From Coventry we were taken to Stafford via Bescot, and then on to Crewe. I normally manage to appreciate a dose of irony, but not on the day after a railtour should have finished! The 47 and disgraced 37 were given the boot at Crewe and what should appear to take us to Manchester but 37405! And, yup, the ETH was working this time... Finally, to add a little more spice to the proceedings, as if any was needed or wanted, we were informed that instead of running back to Picc via Styal, we would actually go via Stockport. At Wilmslow, the train turned left...

Manchester Piccadilly was reached at 0149, exactly 2 hours late. Pathfinder, it must be said, were as disappointed with the day as the rest of us. Later that year they ran The Hampshire Hog II, and charged those that were on the first run only 10 quid or something. But not even that was without a problem or seven...

Ian Jessop.

Back to "Railtour Reviews" Back to my Home Page