Any colour as long as it’s blue…

Is it just me, or is there really something very pleasing about good old BR blue. I literally mean the colour, for it is ‘just right’ in shade and tone, a curious blend of blue and green, not too much red… I love it…

It helps of course that these days it seems fashionable to paint your preserved diesel or DMU in the shade but I advocate that the colour is more than that. It’s a colour that looks good in all weathers, in all settings - and suits so many different shapes and forms to provide uniformity where there had been none - a true ‘corporate image’, the equal partner to the truly wonderfully conceived ‘arrow’.

 

I’m lucky to have so many preserved railways almost on my doorstep… whilst I can walk to the Llangollen railway the Cambrian Heritage is a short drive (about half an hour) to Oswestry. The line is a curious one with slow speed but impeccably turned out locomotives, tired stock and beautifully restored buildings with nice cafe… on the run down to Weston Wharf, just shy of the A483 crossing to the south of the centre, you trundle through suburban back gardens and light industrial units but there are a few fields and it’s a lovely albeit shirt trip. 

I have visited previously, enjoying a Pacer nostalgia trip last summer - however, this visit was the draw of the recently repainted Class 73. Whilst the two coach train hardly taxed the venerable machine, from an open window I got a sense of the difference in sound of these peculiar and uncommon electro-diesels.

 

The set up at Weston Wharf is very neat, but feels temporary in nature - and a walk out of the yard and up to the overbridge shows you why… as the 73 ran round it became clear just how close the group are to the A483 and the opportunity of running beyond, into proper countryside, the mile or so more down to Lynclys must be an exciting and potentially daunting target.

For me the sun shone and the coffee was good - and if I’d have had more ‘time’ I’d have enjoyed a second trip. Instead I made the most of the hour or so I was with the train, studying the finish and details of the 73, the pock marks and repairs and the holes from an old nameplate. She was exceptionally clean, the finish obtained is to be applauded, very well turned out indeed and would be a fascinating visitor to Llangollen should the opportunity ever present itself… perhaps paired with the subs, she’d manage a train up the Berwyn bank?

 

Alongside at Weston Wharf my mind wandered, with no demand for attention I could just be myself. I sat with her on the platform, listening to the engine, the electrical systems and radiator. Each with their own distinctive noises… I listened to the rattles too, and enjoyed the vibrations, the smell and the sense of power contained within… the blue sky setting off the rail blue, the warning panel yellow a wonderful bright contrast, the BR script confidently proclaiming her number and details in white. 

It felt new, and exciting - yet familiar. 

An exotic Class 73 for this part of the world, but wrapped up in comfortable clothes, accessible and personal. Of British Rail, of a time when each of us owned the railway and the railway served only us (and itself) not the pockets of investors or run by third parties… nostalgia - for a time which made more sense, but perhaps was no better - as a child I’m sure I overlooked the dirty tired trains, the poor reliability, the lack of time keeping, the worn out infrastructure - instead I saw excitement - and today that fuels a life long passion. I shouldn’t let nostalgia cloud my thoughts about todays railways, for they too are full of the new and exciting… 

Blue, blue everywhere - I returned home to enjoy the site of yet more BR blue against a blue sky. This time the very familiar, almost a first love (my first Lima diesel that was bought specifically for me, rather than re-gifted, was a Network SouthEast class 47, 47583) dressed in those same robes of familiarity, the same arrow, the same script… the same but different… different noises, smells, vibrations. To the un-initiated just another ‘dirty blue box’ but to us, a wonderful machine.

 

A ride behind the 47 had been inevitable, and I had enjoyed a trip down to Llangollen the previous day (above) where the BR blue had looked sublime against the green hills and overcast sky. The sound of her smooth Sulzer power unit echoing of the sides of the valley. Enjoying the experience from an open window, listening as the revs build to the exhaust note, the wind on your face, a beautiful vista and I’m transported almost out of my body. Hairs stand on end, an excitement builds that is difficult to define and even harder to explain but if you know, then you know. 

Writing this a week later I have a sense of longing.

Longing for the experience again, yes, but more… a longing to share it with a good friend who just gets it.

For whilst our hobby can be solitary and rewarding, and I appreciate all the interaction I get from you, dear reader, here - nothing beats a friend in person.

The class 47 is out again tomorrow… perhaps I’ll take another trip.

Until next time, more soon…

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