Apart from a week in Croatia & Slovenia in June, and a week in the Czech Republic in August, it was only my once-frequent trips to Ireland which saved me from membership of the Flat Earth Society (those people who have no interest in railways outside Britain). In September I started an Inter-rail covering (or at least passing through) the Czech Republic, Austria, Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia-Herzegovina, Serbia-Montenegro, Albania, Kosovo, Macedonia, Greece, Bulgaria, Romania, Hungary, Slovakia, Poland, Liechtenstein, Switzerland, France, Luxembourg, Belgium and Ireland – hence the title of the piece! The aim was to score at least one beer in each country, as well as the usual bashing goals of mileage, thrash and winning locos. In the moves tables, + next to a loco number indicates a winner, D indicates Dead in Tow. KMs and miles are shown, as all the moves were obviously calculated in KMs, but I work in miles so have included the conversion, to the nearest chain. Carts are not included in either column as I don’t count cart mileage. Some of the distances (shaded) are approximate, as I have no timetable for the country in question – if anyone can provide accurate details please let me know.

I had been planning the trip ever since returning from Croatia, initially as a 2-week bash of Eastern Europe, later extended to include a third week, unfortunately I was unable to get a fourth week off work to take full value from the Inter-rail. Taking the third week meant I’d be finishing the weekend of the ITG tour to Cork, and at that time it seemed fairly likely the tour would feature at least one 121 Class loco – I’d never missed one on an ITG tour, and had no intention to start now! I therefore looked to fly into Shannon either late on the Friday night or early Saturday morning. Unfortunately, a flight from Frankfurt arriving in Shannon at 0635 stopped running the week before, so I ended up flying from Brussels, meaning the trip ended up a complete east-west journey across Europe.

About a month prior to take off I heard that possibly the most rateable line in Europe, Ogulin to Split, was to close for 3 months, commencing just prior to flying out. Cheers then! In a way this was good, as I had planned to spend a few days there, but the closure freed up some time to go to other places, many of which I had not been before. However, it shows just how much of Croatia’s rateability is centred on one line, and it looks very much like Croatia won’t be worth visiting after next June, when the plastic units are due to start.

I had intended to undertake this trip with ‘Redhill’, however a new job meant he was unable to accompany me, and I therefore ended up doing the trip alone. My third trip to Europe and I was going to Albania, Kosovo, etc alone! It was therefore with some concerns, but much anticipation, that I finally left Bristol after work one night, and flew to Prague.

The flight was near enough on time, and I was in the centre of Praha for 10pm. As I had a couple of hours until the overnight, I alighted the Metro a couple of stations short, to take some night photos of the castle from across the river (which came out surprisingly well considering the camera was hand-held), before going for a pivo or two. The bar which serves Bernard dark was closed, so I went to the other bar we discovered in August, and had a couple of half-litres of Bernard Polotmave.

I had heard about the dragging around the Hradec Kralove area (thanks Anthony!) due to the closure of the north end of the station, so headed down there on the first day. I caught the overnight to Olomouc as a fill in move. The Kosice portion was wedged, but I managed to get a compo with one other person in the Bratislava portion, so I at least had a seat as far as Ceska Trebova. I then stood to Olomouc, for the train back to Pardubice which was thankfully empty, though the EH was somewhat akin to the third layer of hell. Once the EH was off and the window open I managed another couple of hours doss. The late-running Warsaw-Praha was behind us until Ceska Trebova where it overtook. I had considered baling for a bonus scratch, but couldn’t be bothered. I was therefore pleased to see it pass with dud 151008 on the front.

Upon arrival at Pardubice I went for breakfast, but not beer as the station buffet only sells Gambrinus, before catching the train to Hradec Kralove. I didn’t know exactly which trains were being dragged, and there were a lot of autobus substitutions. I baled off my train in time to watch 770012 arrive dragging a train from Jaromer direction into the station. D’oh! As I wandered back along the train, I saw what looked like a 742 back on to the train I had just baled off. I decided to go and phot it pulling out, but when I got close I saw it was 770036 – Jaromer it is then! The cmelak dragged us back out of the station, along the Praha line, before uncoupling and pushing us back into the yard, where the can took over for the run to Jaromer. At Jaromer I had a quick beer, and watched a silent 749 leave on a vice-cart diagram. I then returned to HK, hoping the other cmelak would do the honours, but aware that there were also a 742 and two rancid goggles performing. However, at Predmerice nad Labem, the train caped and we were bussed to HK. After that, the only trains to run through were carts, which entered and left the station under their own power. I went for a beer, being served by the most miserable Ada of the trip. I returned to the platform to find loads of stock, but no loks apart from the cmelaks. However, suddenly loads of goggles appeared from nowhere. 770012 shunted several sets of stock from trains caping at HK, but didn’t work any trains. I had to return to Praha mid-afternoon to make my onward move, so missed the evening workings around HK.

I caught the 1817 Praha-Linz, hoping the cmelak drags around the border were still working, so got in the front coach. This turned out to be a bad move, as the one-door-train effect was in force, with the front door of the train being by the steps to the subway. The front coach wedged out, while I hardly saw anyone getting in at the back. Just after departure from Praha, my belt burst – perfect timing as I was unlikely to see an open shop for 2 days! My trousers therefore spent the rest of the trip being held up by my spare shoulder strap for a Head bag!

At Horni Dvoriste, the CD can came off, and an OBB can dropped on – no cmelaks here then. On arrival at Linz I went to a cashpoint to obtain some disneydollars, forgetting that unlike British cashpoints which dispense any amount of £10 and £20 notes, asking for €200 would result in two €100 notes, which hardly anyone has change for, especially at midnight! Next time, I shall ask for €190. The train to Salzburg was mostly open coaches, but I managed to find a reclining seat for an hour’s doss.

The Munich-Beograd overnight arrived with a pair of 1116s, but sadly the only empty compos were in the cancer coach. I found a non-mace compo with only one person, so I invaded that. I managed a good doss despite the fact that Bert seemed to be the German entry to the world snoring championships. I awoke as we arrived at Ljubljana, and baled out just in time to get the loco number before it disappeared (the loco, not the number). I had intended to catch the Budapest train from Ljub, but a loco change might mean a change of plan – I could take this train to Zidani Most for the Budapest forward to Hodos. However, when dud 362034 dropped on I reverted to plan A, and went for a couple of burek. The Budapest had a composite leading as usual, but more unusually the 2^nd class end was leading – front compo to Hodos, with winner 664110 from Pragersko. Upon arrival at Hodos I went to the further of the two bars, and was pleased to see a font proclaiming to serve dark beer. However, when I asked Ada for a dark beer she produced a bottle – I later observed that the ‘dark beer’ font served white wine!

The return train came in load 7 so I hoped for a good run. Unfortunately the front 3 – real stock – were locked out, and only the usual Hungarian air-cons were in use, so I didn’t hear a thing. I was also slightly disappointed with dud 664102. The can going forward from Pragersko was dud, so I went for beer instead, though sadly the pizza place up the road was closed. While I drank my beer, 644025 arrived noisily on a freight, while sister lok 644005 shunted some wagons in the yard. What I’d give to get one of these on a passenger train – guess I’ll just have to cover the autovlak in the near future! I then took the afternoon Budapest to Murska Subota, for the ‘schoolie’ back to Ljub. The schoolie was scenic as ever, but my compo was invaded by a bloke and a woman who looked like a bloke. I baled at Celje to get some food, but was alarmed to find the only thing open was McDonalds. Having eaten within the last 3 months, I wasn’t hungry enough to eat at Ronnie’s, so ventured further into town where I eventually found a passable kebab. A couple of beers at the station bar, before catching the direct Zagreb train, though I leapt at Sevnica for the bonus scratch move to Dobova on the Ljubljana-Beograd.

I overdossed on the overnight, awaking on departure from Vinkovci, where I was supposed to alight. I baled at Tovarnik, and festered for the local back to Vinkovci. Burek for breakfast again, and a general stock-up of food and beer. I also bought a Vinkovci postcard to send to work, as it depicted Vinkovci as a scenic, picturesque town. What I saw was one big building site – the station was hidden by scaffolding, most buildings were half built or empty inside, and there were pile of bricks everywhere.

I caught the cart to Drenovci as planned, and predictably was ranted at by the normals when I tried to introduce the concept of fresh air to the atmosphere, despite the fact it was 80º+ outside. At Drenovci, 661322 was waiting on two coaches with the daily train to Tuzla. After a relaxed passport grip on the platform, I grabbed a compo, which remained uninvaded all the way. Slightly less relaxed passport grip by the Bosnian authorities at Brcko – I don’t think they’re used to seeing anything other than Croatian and Bosnian passports! The bert was happy to accept euros, and charged me €3 for Brcko-Tuzla.

At Bosanski Poljana we passed 661307 pulling what appeared to be a military freight – at least there was a coach full of soldiers at the front – heading to Doboj. Should have tried to hitch a lift, as despite what Thomas Cook has to say on the subject, there are definitely no passenger trains between here and Petrovo. I arrived at Tuzla on time, and after scoring my first Bosnian beer caught a bus to Gracanica for another to Petrovo. Festering in Petrovo was not fun – I couldn’t buy anything as I hadn’t managed to obtain any Marka, and there was absolutely nothing to suggest the station was still open. However, a few minutes late, the train from Doboj appeared, and I boarded for the short run to Petrovo Novo, disappointed with 212019 as I’d hoped for a ZRS 661. There was an hour at Petrovo Novo, during which I took some photos and drank a couple of bottles of beer. On the return journey to Doboj, the bert, who had seen me photting, didn’t even bother to ask for a ticket, so I had a free ride. The 212 was less than impressive, but at least I felt at home in the blue&grey compo stock!

At Doboj, I experienced some difficulty obtaining Bosnian currency. The ticket office wouldn’t take euros, and all the shops and bars refused to change money. Eventually the ada in the station shop was persuaded, but the language barrier meant I was unable to explain that I didn’t want to change the whole of my €50 note, and could I have some change in euro? I therefore ended up with KM97.50 – about £35 – when I only really needed about KM40 for food, beer, and a ticket to Slavonski Samac. The language barrier was even more fun here, as I couldn’t even read – while the Croatian part of Bosnia used dual alphabet, the Serb part is eradicating the latin alphabet, using only cyrillic. At Doboj, the latin version of the name had been removed, and all notices, timetables, etc were in cyrillic only.

I adjourned to the station bar, and started working my way through the 7 Bosnian and Serb beers they had in the fridge. The bar was otherwise empty, until 4 Bosnian military policemen came in and occupied the other table. As I went to leave one of them gibbered something at me, which of course I didn’t understand. The barmaid then started gibbering at me, equally incomprehensibly. However, she then pointed at the fridge – it transpired the police were trying to buy me a beer! I accepted, and joined them at their table. I ended up drinking with them until the train to Osijek 2 hours later, and despite the total lack of a common language, we still managed to discuss the universal subjects of beer, football and women. One of them was talking about football, and mentioned Arsenal (not sure what the connection between Arsenal and football is), and so was told ‘Arsenal – ne dobre!’.

At Osijek, I nearly overdossed again, unsurprising given the amount of beer consumed in Doboj. I awoke just as bert was giving the right-away, and scrambled across the platform to the train back to Strizivojna-Vrpolje. Unfortunately, we were a few minutes late, which meant I missed the other 2062 (allox 2062017 – winner) at Strizivojna, which in turn meant I didn’t get the 2132 gronk move at Vinkovci. To add insult to injury, the can to Vinkovci was dud as well! I then caught the early morning train back to Zagreb, reasonably well loaded from Vinkovci, especially considering it was the middle of the night. By Zagreb it was wedged. A quick visit to the shopping centre under the shack, and on with the move.

My second trip to Bosnia was a visit to Bihac. Eventually this is to be reopened as a through route to Knin, I just hope this happens before the Zagreb-Split line gets invaded by plastic carts, and also that they open the line before the wires are repaired. Most of the catenary is intact, except the wires are missing in many places. Long may this continue, as the line is scenic and the sound of a 661 makes it that much better. The ching was KM5.50 each way, and on the way down as the bert had no change he charged me KM5.

On arrival at Bihac, I photted the lok, which prompted the bert to ask if I was returning to Novi Grad. I said I was, and he told me the time of the train, and which was the better bar! I went to the indicated bar, and although the toceno (draught) beer was off, I had a few bottles of the local Bihacko pivo.

On returning to the shack, 661323 and 661305 had appeared, but my Serb was not good enough to request a swap! I photted the 1992 departures list, which is still displayed in the ticket office – bit different to the 4 trains a day now! I also photted the station cat, before reboarding the train. This was literally a one-door-train, as it was one coach and the doors at one end were out of use! My compo was invaded by a local who spoke English and was into the same music as me. After a lengthy discussion, I ended up donating a couple of my copied CDs, as he was unable to find such material in Bosnia.

At Novi Grad, the Zagreb train arrived, and I still hadn’t got a ticket, so I just piled on anyway. The bert came round, and told me the ticket is KM5 if you buy at the shack, but KM10 on the train. He then said ‘give me KM5’, and left without issuing a ticket – I wonder how much of that KM5 ZRS ever saw?!

At Volinja, we were delayed by the passport grip, as some normal was having a bit of a scenario with the customs berts. We eventually left 30 late, making my Zagreb connection look dodgy. We made at Zagreb, and train 995 was also late, so I thought I could get a bonus GM move to Dugo Selo and pick up the Vinkovci train there. However, 995 got later and later, and still hadn’t appeared when the Vinkovci left. In the meantime, some police bert came round and checked my passport. He then proceeded to interrogate me as to my travel plans, before having me empty both bags onto the seat so he could do a full search – not even a cross-border train! Any policeman in Britain making such a request would be told to FOAD, but I judged that to be unwise in Croatia. After that, an uneventful journey to Strizivojna ensued, for a bit of a middle-of-the-night fester.

After missing the previous night, I decided not to risk the Osijek move, as this time I had to make the Beograd train. I therefore reluctantly flagged winner 2062030, and festered for the Banja Luka – Vinkovci portion. 2062024 arrived on an absolutely huge freight, closely followed by 2062017, which I’d been told was allocated to my train. My train then appeared with dud 2062025 – cheers then! More salt in the wound, as 2062030 reappeared with 5 minutes to spare, piloted by another winner, 2044026. Just to complete the wither, the bert told me the Zagreb-Beograd was 80 late, so we festered in Vinkovci over an hour and a half. The seats in the Banja Luka portion were not doss-friendly, so I moved into the main train at Vinkovci.

The border grip was a bit desperate, with one passport control ada viewing the camera in my bag and asking why it was not declared on my passport! However, with an assurance that it was purely for personal use, not professional or publication, my passport was stamped, and nearly 2 hours late we proceeded. I still had a compo to myself, but as I was travelling alone I lost it when I went to get the lok numbers at Beograd. Upon departure from Beograd, the one-door-train effect seemed to have worked in reverse, as the front of the train was wedged, but the back had empty compos. The only problem now was where to get out, as in Serbia the stations tend to have only one name board. When that name board is in cyrillic, you’ve really got a problem! Leaving Beograd, I saw some kettles, and also the ‘warship’ clones, but couldn’t get my camera out quick enough. I was, however, ready when we passed 666003 at Mala Krsna.

I baled at Lapovo, and went in search of somewhere to change some money. Eventually the ticket office bert did the honours, and I went to the shop across the road to stock up on beer and food. At first the ada didn’t want to let me have the beers – it turned out this was because they want the bottles back. Eventually she agreed to sell them to me if I paid the deposit on the bottles, which was almost as much as the beer itself! It still worked out around 30p a bottle, so no complaints there.

The 1240 ex Lapovo seemed to be a schoolie, but unlike the trainload of 18 year-olds at Murska Subota, this train was full of rugrats. I was looking forward to a 3-way line up of 661s at Kraljevo, as described by Steve Pickersgill and Alastair Tillotson in their reports. I was therefore disappointed when I arrived to find I was on the only 661 present. The train to Stalac was nowhere to be seen, and there was no loco on the train to Pozega, though it was well loaded. I joined the Pozega train, and watched 661129 depart towards Lesak, and waited. I was gutted when 641332 dropped on, but had little choice apart from a long fester. The run to Pozega was quick compared to the Lapovo line, but the loco wasn’t making nearly enough noise. Departure from Pozega back towards Kraljevo was on time, but after that it was a complete farce.

As is predictable when you send a shunter to work a real train, the 641 jacked at Ovcar Banja. After a while, the following train caught us up, and 441310, complete with its own train, pushed us to Prijevar, where the can and its train ran round and went on the front as far as Cacak, where 661162 was waiting to take us forward. I baled at Kraljevo, as I was hungry, and also I wasn’t sure of the diagrams so I didn’t know if 661162 would pass the overnight between Kraljevo and Stalac. I went into the ticket office for gen. There were train lists for Beograd, Novi Sad and Nis in dual alphabet, but the Kraljevo train list was in cyrillic only.

I went to a bar and ordered my first Serb toceno pivo, but halfway through pouring it there was a power cut! Eventually the power came back on, and I got my beer. The bar closed shortly afterwards, so I went into town for pizza and more pivo.

As suspected, the overnight arrived behind 661162, well over an hour late. By the time the extra coach had been shunted on, we were 90+ late. I grabbed a compo and dossed out, getting up only at Bijelo Polje to get the lok numbers.

Arrival in Bar was 2½ hours late, meaning my move to Shkoder was a little tighter than I’d hoped. I found a taxi driver who spoke English, and he agreed to drive me to the recently-reopened border. I then walked the 100 yards through ‘no mans land’, before finally entering Albania. The Foreign Office website states the Albania charges $10 tax on both entry and exit, and I duly handed over $10. The passport bert gave me a form to fill in, which he then signed, and gave back to me to hand to passport control on my exit. He then summoned a taxi to take me to Shkoder, which gave me just over an hour to cover 15km. However, after 100 yards the paved road finished, and it was dirt track all the way to Shkoder. We were still making reasonable time, until we got to the bridge by Rozafa Castle. The bridge is single lane, there are no traffic lights, and the locals drive like Italians. By the time we eventually got over the bridge, the train was long gone – the 1215 to Tirane is the last train of the day! The driver took me to exchange some dollars, and I then got a hotel for 1000 Lek (about £5.50), which was basic but comfortable, and after a week of overnights a real bed was most welcome.

I had arranged a taxi the previous night, and sure enough it was waiting for me at 6am when I left the hotel. The run to the station took about 5 minutes. The hotel I stayed at told me there were no hotels near the station, so I was not impressed to find one 2 minutes walk from the shack. The driver tried to ching me $5, but was happy with 500 Lek. He then offered to drive me to Vlore for $100, as that is where I had originally intended to go, but I politely declined as I no longer had time to go there, didn’t want to go by car anyway, and certainly didn’t want to spend $100 when the train would cost under a fiver!

The stock was a mixture of european origins, and almost made Virgin look good (almost!). Most windows were missing or broken, the seats had mostly collapsed, there was no heating, and even several doors were missing. Although the daytime was very hot, the early morning was rather cold – I wouldn’t fancy travelling on these trains in December! The train was empty out of Shkoder, but quickly filled up – at one point the compo was load 12, including 3 children! On the plus side, while the locos are numbered in the T669.1 series, which corresponds to the Czech 771 class, unlike 771s the HSH loks are most definitely not silenced! Due to the low line speeds, thrash was mostly limited to short bursts when leaving stations – for some reason the locos are shut down when approaching stations, the loco coasts in, then restarts.

At Tirane, I went for a quick beer, scoring the quite rateable Birra Tirane, before catching the Durres train, which goes past the depot at Shkozet. The train was formed of Austrian stock, still carrying OBB markings, though that’s as far as the similarity to anything in Austria goes. Just after leaving Tirane, the train hit a farm truck on a crossing, knocking it over and spilling its load all over the road. Whereas in Britain the loco would be impounded and inspected, the driver drug tested and the line closed for a month for investigation, the driver got out, made sure the front of the loco was ok and carried on! However, the 5 minute delay meant I couldn’t risk the +5 at Durres, particularly as I needed a ticket. I therefore baled at Sukth, to pick up the Durres-Tirane train to Vore, for the return journey to Shkoder.

On the train back to Shkoder, at Milot, the lok wouldn’t restart, so the driver made a phone call. Ten minutes later, a bert came down the road on a donkey, carrying a can of oil. The driver then opened the engine room doors and went to put in some oil, all the time having a cigarette dangling from his mouth! The stock was the same rake as the morning train, but at the Shkoder end the gangway door was missing, meaning I got the best sound effects from the cmelak. Various normals tried talking to me, one or two of them with some degree of English. I was asked by a couple of them what religion I am, a question I carefully avoided as I felt a wrong answer could be bad for my health. One bert was standing by the door talking to me when a gust of wind blew his wig off into a field!

I returned to Montenegro via the main border at Hani I Hotit, again using a combination of taxis. There are allegedly buses between Podgorica and Shkoder, but I didn’t pass any, and could find no gen at either bus station. This will all be a lot easier if they ever get round to opening the railway line to passengers! The border crossing was easy, and no exit tax was charged – maybe this is only charged if one loses the entry form. A taxi was waiting on the other side of the border.

On arrival at Podgorica I went for a couple of beers, and was just about to order some food when bert came round and said the bar was closing. At 8pm on a Friday night! The overnight was wedged as expected, but I managed to get a seat in a compo near the front. However, when I went to get the lok number at Bijelo Polje, I came back to find some veg in my seat. After a lengthy argument he finally got out, and I dossed to Pozega.

The overnight from Pozega to Nis was totally wedged, and I ended up standing all the way, which was bad enough, but then some veg came along and started smoking. Traction as far as Stalac was 661118, my first 661 with low hood. There was a full Policije grip out of Pozega, and then the bert came and kicked us out of the front vestibule, so I had to stand further back. The only notable thing after that was when some normal managed to pull the toilet door off its hinges, at which point I decided to move vestibules again.

By the time I got to Nis (via the loop) I was seriously unimpressed with Serbia, what with the late running, overcrowding and being bowled out with shunters. I was thinking about heading down to Greece, and was only put off by the huge fester. I checked to see if anything was working the Dimitrovgrad line, but the only trains running were the Beograd-Sofija pairs, which again would have been a fester, and the only diesel visible was a 641. I therefore headed back north on the main line, returning to Lapovo to again do the 1240 to Kraljevo, which on this occasion was ex-Bosnian 661274, still with ZRS markings. At Kraljevo I finally got my 3 way line up of 661s, though late running meant I had no time for a phot.

The Lesak was dud, so I took the 1450 to Stalac. I considered heading for Nis and on to Zajecar, but the evening train seems to be solid Ganz, so I returned to Kraljevo. I wanted to cover the 2 trains to Lapovo in the morning, and didn’t fancy the 3-hour fester off the overnight, so I checked into Hotel Turiste. A quick visit to the cashpoint opposite, and a relaxing evening of pizza and pivo. Being a Saturday night, the town centre was very scenic, and when I later adjourned to a bar a young lady attempted to talk to me – if only I spoke Serb!

I caught the 0600 to Beograd as planned, with winner 661116, baling at Kragujevac for 661274 behind. I then headed down to Stalac to cover the unknown loco on the 1225 to Kraljevo. I had some time at Stalac, so I got a beer and sat down to write up my moves, and was shortly joined by the station cat complete with kittens. Unfortunately I was also joined by less welcome visitors - wasps. Not good when you’re wearing shorts! The 1225 turned out to be 661118, which was dud but at least it meant I could get photos of a low-hood 661. Incidentally, I had no trouble taking photos in Serbia at all. Most times I didn’t even ask, but when I first arrived at Kraljevo there were Policije everywhere, so I asked them if it was ok and they accepted.

I then headed south to Lesak on 661274. Unfortunately we were late arriving, so I had no time to get what would have been an excellent phot of the 661 and a Kosovan NoHab side by side.

When the UN first started running trains in Kosovo, they were free, but I had read reports that fares of around €2-3 had been introduced to bring in much needed money. I was therefore surprised to find the train 100% ungripped – the only staff I saw were the armed security guards of UNMIK. From Lesak the train was reasonably full of Kosovan Serbs, but they gradually gave way to Kosovan Albanians as we continued towards Kosovo Polje. I decided against continuing for a return trip to Djeneral Jankovic on the Madedonian border, as that would entail a late arrival in Kosovo Polje, and I had no hotel booked. I checked into the Hotel Drenica, next to the shack, behind the plinthed kettle. The hotel was comfortable but basic, with no TV and not en suite. Having dumped the bags, I returned to the bar for a few bottles of Pejes (Kosovan pilsner), while watching Beverley Hills Cop dubbed into (I think) Serb!

As the line between Djeneral Jankovic and Skopje is not yet open (it’s been ‘forthcoming’ for ages), I got a taxi to Pristina bus station for a coach to Skopje. Buses run at 0400, 0630, 0745, 0805, 1130, 1200, 1515, 1600, 1730 and 1830, meaning there is not quite time to do the morning train to Lesak and back, and still make a bus that would get to Skopje in time for the train to Thessaloniki. An insomniac could, however, do the morning run to Djeneral Jankovic and back. I may do this next time anyway, as the line is very scenic, running alongside a river in the bottom of a valley.

I arrived at Skopje late morning, which left a long wait for train 411. Everything around the station appeared to be closed, including the exchange office, despite a sign to the contrary. I changed some money at the ticket office, and went for pizza and pivo. While Skopje is a large station (and also currently a large building site), there are few trains, and most of those that remain are carts. To kill time I took train 410 to the border to pick up 411 coming south. The customs berts were not impressed, and demanded to know why I had baled at Tabanovci (there’s nothing there), where I was going, why I was in Macedonia etc. They then carried out a full bag search, and even asked me why all my clothes were black! They also questioned why I had a carriage key, and told me it was forbidden, even though it was a UK key which is different to the continental design. They decided not to confiscate it when I explained that I worked on a preserved line at home. Eventually, satisfied that I was harmless, they left me alone, and I caught 411 without further incident.

Steve had referred to a form he had to fill in entering and leaving Macedonia, and although I hadn’t had to fill one in entering on the bus, I was given one to fill in on exiting. The bert came round to collect them, and asked for €5. I am not aware of Macedonia having an exit tax, but when a man with a Kalashnikov and a Glock asks for €5 I would be inclined to give him €5.

Here, the MZ lok came off, and I waited to see what would replace it, as I wasn’t sure if the drags to Thessaloniki were still on or not. They were, but it made no difference, as A482 backed on I discovered these really are the worst locos in the world. The thing was absolutely silent – even cans make more noise!

At Idomeni, as expected a customs bert collected everyone’s passports on arrival, and told us to collect them from the police station in 15 minutes. This worked without problem, and we proceeded south. The reports I had read of the drags quoted top & tail running, as the train reversed on route. However, there was no loco on the back, and sure enough the Adtranz junk ran round in the middle of nowhere – disappointing as I had hoped the ‘tail’ engine might be an MLW. Arrival at Thessaloniki was just late enough to leave me insufficient time to get beer and food for the overnight to Athens. The couchettes were fully booked, and so I travelled in the seats, in a load 8 compo – not the best overnight of the trip.

I got the so-called Intercity cart from Athens to Achaia, which was somewhat rancid. Apart from the fact they’ve tried to build main-line capacity into a reduced loading gauge, meaning the seats are very cramped, they are also rather bouncy. The bert also charged me €12.40 supplement for the privilege – thieving b*****d! At Achaia I picked up train 301, with my first ever Alco diesel on the front. I had intended to take this to Korinthos for 302 back south, but at Diakopto we crossed train 300, which rolled in with A9103 vice cart (I have since found out this is a permanent change), so I quickly gathered my things and baled, much to the bemusement of the normals. This was taken to Patra, where I got some lunch and Greek beer, before the return working to Eghiom to pick up my original move, and take 302 to Pirghos.

I stayed in the same hotel as Steve had done, and although it was by far the most expensive hotel of the trip, it was at least well furnished. However, the lock on the door of my room was dodgy, and when I summoned the bert, he came to show me how to work it, he locked my bags in the room and couldn’t open it again! He finally managed to get in, and so I rescued my bags and he moved me to another room, which turned out to be a double. Bonus!

A lie in for once, as the Olympia line was shut again, so the first move was 301 to Athina. A9107 was on another set of stock at Pirghos, but didn’t appear to have a train to work. Shortly before departure, however, it was started up, and coupled in front of A9109. I had hoped for a pair, but the bert wouldn’t put them in multi. Before departure I tried to reserve couchettes for the night, and the move to Istanbul the next day, but was told to try at Athens. I had initially planned to just take train 301 throughout, but after the vice the previous day I saw an alternative move. As we passed 300 at Diakopto, I made sure that it was indeed vice (A9105), and continued to Kiato, where I baled for ice cream before catching 302 back to Diakopto. Diakopto had plenty of shops and even a couple of supermarkets, but at 4pm virtually the whole town was closed, so I ended up having a couple of beers at the station before picking up A9105 to Athens. At Athens I was piloted by phone to the Indian restaurant (cheers Shovel!), where I had a fine lamb balti, though sadly no nargis kebab.

Back at the shack, A468+A460 were at the head of a freight, so a few night shots were taken. I had planned to do the second overnight, on the seats, but decided instead to do the first overnight, in a couchette. I went to the ticket office, and was sold coach 1, compo 5. I also tried to book the Istanbul move, and was sent to another office, who sent me to the international office, who sent me to the travel centre, who sent me back where I started.

I went back outside to watch the MLWs depart on their freight, and when they opened up, I really wished they would put one on the overnight. Just then, the overnight arrived, behind A466 and a dead-looking A477. Front coach, an MLW on the front – it would be a crime to waste it by going to sleep! However, as we left Inoi I couldn’t hear anything, and so I got up and looked out, and indeed A477 wasn’t so dead after all. Oh well, time for doss!

On arrival at Thessaloniki, I had to hastily rethink my plans. Although I would have grudgingly paid the supplement for the IC to Pithio, I certainly wasn’t paying extra for, or travelling 500km+ on, a cart. Unfortunately, there is no daytime train to Sofija, my next destination, so I had 12 hours to kill until the overnight. The options were a return to either Alexandrupoli or Athens, or desperate leaps. None really appealed given the poor quality of traction, and so when the train to Alexandrupoli turned up already wedged, I decided to go for the scenic route to Athens. This train was also wedged, but extra coaches were added and I grabbed a compo, though I was quickly invaded. The trip was indeed scenic, but I found just how rubbish the Adtranz loks are when we were going up vertical gradients and I couldn’t hear a thing. It was so bad I’d actually rather have a 47! The return journey was less interesting, as it had got dark and so there was nothing to see or hear. Also, having grabbed a compo I was quickly evicted as the seats were reserved. Irritatingly, the return was dud A482.

At Thessaloniki I had no trouble booking a sleeper, and at €10 I was even more pleased when I had a cabin to myself – in fact there were only 2 other people in the coach. Unbelievably, though, I managed a second consecutive dud, as A487 dropped on the front. I had a good night’s sleep, disturbed only by the border crossing where on both sides of the border the customs bert took my passport away for processing, before returning it to me. At Kulata, for want of anything better to do, I went and got the lok number while I waited.

Thanks to delays with passport control, arrival at Sofija was an hour late. This meant I missed the 0815 to Plovdiv, which threw out my whole move for the day. I tried to obtain a timetable, but was unsuccessful. While I stood looking at the departures screen, a station bert came to offer assistance. He spoke a little English, but when I asked him where I could get a timetable, he just looked at me blankly, and told me the train to Plovdiv was at 1015. No matter how many languages I tried, and how many timetables I pointed at, he just kept saying ‘1015, track 3’. The departure lists said where trains stopped, but not what time, making it very difficult to plot moves. I eventually gave up and went for beer and breakfast, before catching the 1015. The train was severely wedged, and I ended up standing all the way to Plovdiv. At Plovdiv I tried to get a hotel, but the only one I found was full. The late running meant my plan to cover the narrow gauge line to Dobrinishte was out, so I decided to get a couple of 07s in. I did a quick spin to Krumovo and back, but the locos made so little noise I gave up and I therefore decided to leave Bulgaria that night, and tried to book a sleeper to Bucuresti. I was told this is not possible, book in Sofija.

I went back to Sofija, with a minor delay due to the can bursting on route and being replaced. I eventually found the international booking office and booked a sleeper to Bucuresti, getting my reservation with 10 minutes to spare before departure. I quickly obtained some beer and food before finding my berth. Due to the lateness of booking, the Bucuresti portion was full, and I was in the Russian portion. The bert spoke no English, but seemed to be disputing my allocation in his coach. Eventually he showed me to my berth, which fortunately I was not sharing.

Getting across the border proved easier said than done. Despite the fact my passport is less than 6 months old, I already look sufficiently unlike the photo within to arouse the suspicions of the Bulgarian border control berts. And so it was that at 3am I spent 10 minutes trying to recreate the pose in my passport photo, before the berts examined every other piece of photo ID I had, and took my passport away for further checks. Eventually they returned, obtained a signature, and having matched it to my passport signature, finally returned my passport to me. I was somewhat unimpressed at being ‘duffed out’, having some sulzer junk forward from the border to Bucuresti.

The next motion was at Bucuresti, where the bert wouldn’t return my ticket. He kept gibbering something at me, but not speaking Russian I didn’t understand a word. Eventually I worked out he wanted me to return my bedding to him, and when I had done so, returning for my towel, he finally gave me my ticket 2 minutes before the train left for Moscow. I had by this stage missed the train I was hoping to catch to Brasov, so I went to the supermarket on the shack for food, water and beer. I also tried to book the overnight from Brasov to Budapest, but was told to book at Brasov. Predictably, when I arrived at Brasov, I was unable to book a sleeper, but was told buy on the train.

My main aim in Romania was to visit Bran Castle, allegedly home to Vlad Tepes, aka Vlad Dracul, aka Vlad the Impaler, aka Count Dracula, and also to view the scenery through the Carpathians. I found a taxi driver who drove me to the castle, waited while I looked around, and returned me to Brasov. I left the castle just as a coachload of yanks arrived, so that was well timed. Back at the shack I spent a couple of hours in the net café, before adjourning for a couple of beers. As I’d feared, there were no sleepers left on the overnight, and several beggars who had been hanging around the station also boarded the seated section, fortunately mostly in the Curtici portion.

The border grip was relatively relaxed, and I managed to doss most of the way to Budapest. On arrival, only one exchange office was open, which had reasonable rates if one wanted to change a few hundred quid, but for small amounts the rates were horrendous. I changed a minimal amount, just enough for breakfast and beer (same thing?). I then reboarded the same train to travel onwards to Wien, as I couldn’t be bothered to spend time in Hungary, since what I’d heard of their locos didn’t sound impressive.

Having had sunny weather for 2 weeks, from here on in the rain was here to stay. On arrival at Wien, I easily obtained a local timetable detailing all services within a 50-100km radius. If it gave train numbers and distances it would have been perfect, but it was still very useful. As I hadn’t anticipated staying in Austria for long, I’d left the diagrams at home, so had to make it up as I went along. I started with a trip to Marchegg to score my first 2143, though I was unimpressed with the cart back. I then did some leaps to Wien Meidling – my only desperate leaps of the trip – before covering the 1535 Machegg-Wien, as this train is booked a pair in the week, though it appears not on Sunday.

I took the 1922 ex Wien throughout to Bratislava, which was the same 2143 I’d had in the morning, even though there were 2 others in the station area and a raft more on the shed. At Bratislava, everything was closed on the station, but various bars etc were open outside. I was unable to book a sleeper, but obtained one on the train no problem for 150 koruna – about £2.50. Unfortunately a second class ticket doesn’t allow one to book a sleeper alone, and for the first time on the trip I had to share a berth. The only problem was the normals wanted the heating turned up full, but I still managed a few hours doss.

I baled off the sleeper at Kysak, to head up to Presov for a leap on the 752 diagrams. 752040 duly arrived towing cart trailers, and was taken to Sarisske Luky. I wimped out of the +4 at Kapusany, as we were 5 late, so I had a short fester for 752026 back to Presov. I then headed up to Poland. An easy passport grip, and we headed on towards Krakow. However, the bert then came round and started gibbering, the only word I understood was ‘autobussy’. Cheers then! In the end we were bussed between Stary Sacz and Nowy Sacz – good job I’m not a track basher, or all these 5km gaps would really annoy me! Forward from Krakow I scored my first Evil Empire loco of the trip, class 83-clone EU06 14. At Wroclaw, it again proved impossible to find a timetable, and although thanks to Snowy I knew where the diesel lines were, I had no idea if there were any moves available. Instead I went to a bar outside the shack (all the Polish shacks seemed to be dry – not a beer in sight!), and had a whole chicken with chips and sauerkraut for under £2, washed down with a couple of litres of the local pivo. Another EU06 to Katowice for the overnight finished the moves for the day.

The overnight to Praha was relatively empty, and my compo was not invaded all night. We were shunted by a 742 at Petrovice, before continuing west. As the HK dragging was finished, I decided to check out the Sumperk and Olomouc areas. At Zabreh na Morave, I saw that the loco for the Jesenik was 749265, duly flagged as it is silent. After a quick beer, I headed to Olomouc, where 731030 was sat on the Drahanovice train vice cart. I did this to Drahanovice and back for want of anything better to do, withering the bert when I got back on to return.

The Nezamyslice train had a pair of 111s on the front, and I decided to do this as these trains are shortly to be taken over by carts. 111001 had its pantograph down, but just before departure a bert got in and fired it up – two for the price of one! I could have baled at Prostejov for another 111 back, but continued to Nezamyslice to come back via Prerov. As planned I then did the 1341 Olomouc to Sumperk, which was loud 749246. I quickly checked into the Hotel Grand, before returning to the shack for the 1552 to Zabreh. As I’d left the diagrams behind, I was pleasantly surprised to see 749250 piloting the carts, a regular positioning move. Back to Olomouc for the 1754 back to Sumperk, which was silent 749222.

I got up at 4am to cover the first train to Olomouc, as the 0616 is usually silent. However, on this occasion the 0434 was also silent – 749265 was haunting me. 749222 was lined up for the 0616, but fortunately the 0531 was loco hauled vice cart, and even better was 749121, somewhat large out of Sumperk! I then headed back to Zabreh safe in the knowledge the Jesenik had to be loud as the only silent grumpy in the area was at Olomouc. I was even more pleased to find it was 749248, my last loud Sumperk 749. The gripper started ranting at me about my ticket, but it wasn’t until an English-speaking young lady in the compo translated that I realised what his problem was. He couldn’t find my country of residence on the ticket, not realising what UK means, and was further confused by my Polish surname. Eventually he was satisfied and went away, though he returned 5 minutes later quoting the dreaded ‘autobussy’ between Branna and Ostruzna.

I returned to Praha to get some daytime photos of the castle, and also to visit U Fleku, where the beer was excellent but very expensive, and the waiters all but force-fed me some even more expensive ‘schnapps’, which after I had declined about 10 times they finally took away. I then repeated the overnight move to Linz, but this time headed west to Zurich. At Linz the Zurich train came in with an MAV 1047, but to my disappointment was replaced by the 1116 which had brought me in from Horni Dvoriste.

I just about managed to stay awake long enough to see Liechtenstein, not that there was a lot to see in the dark. By this stage we were running slightly late, but the move was completely finished when the train caped at Ziegelbrucke. I got the first train down to Chur, and went for a brief spin on the Rhatische Bahn. I got as far as Distentis, but beyond there the trains are operated by MGB, not valid on Inter-rail. The ching for the 29km to Andermatt was extortionate, and although I would have grudgingly paid, the local trains were carts, and to travel on the loco-hauled trains was even more ching. I therefore headed back to Reichnau Tamins, for a loop round Filisur and Davos, travelling up to an altitude of 5,000ft. Unfortunately virtually every train was full of large groups of rugrats.

I got to Zurich in time to book the overnight to Luxembourg, and get something to eat, however after wandering around town the only food that wasn’t extortionate ching was Ronnie’s. I eventually found a passable kebab shack in the subway under the station, although everything else down there was closed.

At Basel there was no passport grip at all, so I walked up to the SNCF platforms without hassle. The train had 3 seated coaches, 2 compos and an open – predictably I was allocated in the open. Cheers then! However, with only a few minutes before departure the train was nearly empty, so I claimed a compo, and set it up to my liking – heating off, lights off, curtains closed, seats reclined – can’t do that in an open! As the train was compulsory res, I half expected a riot with the bert telling me to take my allocated seat, but there was no problem.

After a long fester in Luxembourg, I went for a round trip to Petange, which should have scored me two flatirons, but the first of the moves had a 3000 on the front. At Petange I viewed several 900s and 1800s on freights, before my return journey turned up with the booked 3600. Back at Luxembourg I scored a couple of local beers and some breakfast before catching the Intercity to Namur. However, unlike the 2 Brussels Intercities I’d viewed earlier, the 0821 was a cart, and was duly flagged. Although apparently there is a supplement for international journeys on EC trains, the bert on EC296 said no supplement, so I got as far as Namur loco-hauled. Namur - Charleroi I had no choice but to take a cart, before getting the bus to what is possibly the worst airport in Europe.

At the airport I had a total riot with customs – as usual the metal detector beeped as I went through thanks to the metal fastenings on my trousers and my toecap boots. However, I got a little worried after the usual handheld scanner waving, when the bert ushered me into the cubicle. I feared a full search, but fortunately he only wanted me to remove my boots. After that the flight was uneventful and we landed in Shannon on time. The buses are half-hourly, and I nearly missed the 1700 waiting for my bag.

The plan was to do the 1800 Limerick – Limerick Junction and return, followed by the 1930 Ennis. However, the bus from the airport stopped at every lamp-post, and went a somewhat circuitous route. We still looked like making the 1800, until we hit the traffic on the outskirts of Limerick. I missed the 1800 by 5 minutes, so checked into the Railway Hotel. The Ennis line was closed again, having only re-opened in May. Sadly it appears that when the line reopens it will be worked by carts.

My 2 main aims in Ireland were to clear 134 for 2,000 miles and 124 for 3,000. I found that 134 had been involved in the Cahir viaduct accident, and while it was unharmed, it was stuck at Waterford. It was therefore unlikely to work the tour, and not in position to work anything out of Limerick – it had been a fairly regular performer on the evening Ennis when the line was open. I decided to concentrate on my machine, 124, so did the 1935 to the Junction, which on a Friday comes straight back. I retired to my hotel room for 9 hours solid doss.

With breakfast I had my first cup of tea for 3 weeks – nectar! I decided to do the tour to Cobh and back, with the plan being a return to Tralee if the 1255 and 1500 Cork to Tralee trains both produced 141s, as I could then do one small engine into Tralee for a different one back out. 176 worked the 1255, and there was 144 and 226 on shed to cover the other two diagrams. I phoned Cork shed to find which loco was working which train, and was told 144 would work the 1500. I took the pair on the tour back to Limerick Junction, before suffering a vile 201 back to Mallow. At Mallow the Tralee train was in, with 226 on the front. I had missed the northbound train, so had no choice but a two-hour fester at Mallow, before doing 220 back to Limerick Junction for 124 into Limerick. I then went for the evening train to the Junction, but the train from Dublin was so late it would have been a 2 hour fester for the train back to Limerick, so I accepted the offer of a taxi.

The plan was to do a return to the Junction, before catching the 1105 to the Junction for the connection to Cork to fly home. However, the return from the Junction was late, and although I thought I was safe as the 1105 was diagrammed to be the same loco, stock and crew, we passed 172 on Cravens at Limerick Check, leaving me stranded. Fortunately there was a bus to Cork, so I still caught my flight. 124 ended up on 3,008 miles, so at least one target was achieved.

The plane was an ATR42 turboprop beast – a nice change from all the 737s I’ve had this year. It was only ¼ full, so no worries about being first out. When we landed, the bags arrived in the terminal at the same time as the passengers, so within 5 minutes of the plane touching down I was in the car. 23 days to the hour after leaving, I was back in Britain.