….or Troon. But certainly not by LNER to Reading

You can read the text below, or listen to me reading it accompanied by a dozen pieces of music that fit loosely with this week’s theme, which is…trains. Railways, steam engines and the permanent way generally. Music by Danny Wilson, The Clash, the Doobie Brothers, the O’Jays, Tom Waits and many more. Playlist and link to the Mixcloud stream at the end, but the show goes out on 60 North Radio on Fridays at 7.00pm.

My earliest memory is of a cat, and the horrific pain inflicted with its claws as I cuddled it, in the mistaken belief that it would be as soft and welcoming as my favourite teddy bear. 

This happened at my youthful parents’ flat in Walmer Crescent, just off Paisley Road West in Glasgow. Soon after this mauling, we moved to Pollokshaws, and the memories then begin to arrive thick and fast: especially Granny MacCalman, and trips with her by tram and steam train out to Bellshill. I was bewitched by trains.

Glasgow Central Station in the 1950s and early 60s was truly all noise, crowds, smoke, steam and the smell of cigarettes and unwashed bodies. But what always fascinated me were the huge hydraulic buffers at the end of one of the lines, presumably because steam trains were not as controllable as later diesels and electrics when it came to stopping. These massive shafts of steel, their mountings painted fire engine red, haunted my dreams. What if a train ploughed into them at full speed? Could they possibly prevent it ploughing into the platform crowds, and then out into Gordon street, belching fire into the Glasgow night? It was always night in Glasgow Central.

A steam engine in the wrong place. Out of context, on the road. But you sometimes saw that in Glasgow in the late 50s, when you could get stopped in your car by the transportation on the roadway  of newly minted engines from I think the Hyde Park Works of North British Locomotives in Springbur. Saucer eyed, aged maybe four I watched these behemoths from the back of dad’s rattly Triumph Renown; they must have been among the last steam engines made in Glasgow.

Not quite the last locomotive. In 1987 I watched a firework display to either launch or end the arts festival Mayfest. It took place on the banks of the Clyde and above us, dangling from the enormous Finnieston Crane, the very crane that had been used to lift Glasgow-made steam locos onto ships for export, was a full-size engine made of straw. George Wylie’s wondrous creation, the symbol of Glasgow’s past and present economy, of Scotland’s industrial heritage. It was cremated at the old Springburn works. Burnt to a cinder.

Last week i was in Edinburgh to catch a train. It did not go well.

Susan and I were bound for my nephew Dan’s wedding to Karina in Pangbourne, near Reading. Originally we were going to drive, but Susan had to speak at the Labour Party Conference in Edinburgh on Friday morning, so we arranged to stay in Auld Reekie on Thursday night, go the conference on Friday morning, then catch a leisurely train to King’s Cross and thence to Reading. That was the plan.

Storm Otto scuppered things. All trains from Scotland to England and vice versa were either cancelled or enormously delayed. The queue should have been a giveaway. On our way to the conference, we passed Waverley station, and even first thing in the morning there was a queue snaking out of the station and away into the bowels of the city. 

It turned out all reservations and classes for travel had been cancelled, and LNER were simply cramming any train that arrived full, standing room only, then sending it lumbering off on its way. But people, as it turned out, were having to wait four and a half hours just for that. We waited for a while. The queue got bigger. We looked at driving, at flying, we got half a dozen different explanations and timings chrome LNER staff. No refund possible as we’d booked online via Trainline. I managed to get my rucksack tangled in an escalator. We were tired and stressed and then…

We went home. Or not home to Shetland, but to Troon, where we have a wee flat which used to be my sister’s. Next day my ninth grandchild was born in Glasgow, a daughter to James and Fenella, Eve. Eight pounds and six ounces. It’s funny how imperial measures still apply to babies.

Troon station is roofless and one half, the Glasgow platform, has no buildings left due to a terrible fire. It’s going to be rebuilt, though, and it remains one of my favourite places to sit and remember. Because from 7 to 17, Troon was my hometown. This is where I went to school. Everything really started here. 

Getting the first train to the city one morning in 1973 to queue for a Rolling Stones gig at the Apollo. The clink of golf clubs reminding me of endless days on Fullarton or Lochgreen, the municipal courses just next to the station. Summer trips home from university.

Back to the present day.The clatter and whirr of an arriving electric train. It’s on time. It’s time to go.

You can listen to Tom Morton’s Audioletter here. It features the text above, read by me, along with music by Savoy Brown, The Clash, the Doobie Brothers, Tom Waits, the Oscar Peterson Trio, the O’Jays, Gerry Rafferty, the Notting Hillbillies, the Georgia Satellites, Danny Wilson, JJ Cale, the Decembrists, Kasey Chambers and BOY. The show also goes out on 60 North Radio on Fridays at 7.00pm.

Savoy Brown — Train to Nowhere

The Clash — Train in Vain

Doobie Brothers — Long Train Running

Tom Waits — Downtown Train

Oscar Peterson Trio — Night Train

O’Jays — Love Train

Gerry Rafferty — City to City

Notting Hillbillies — Railroad Worksong

Georgia Satellites — Railroad Steel

Danny Wilson — Steam Trains to the Milky Way

JJ Cale — Call Me the Breeze

Decembrists — The Engine Driver

Kasey Chambers — Runaway Train

BOY — Railway