David's Cruise

Day 2, written after arrival at Long Beach.

This is my second blog of the day. Right now, I am in one of the eateries on the Promenade Deck of the former transatlantic Cunard liner, Queen Mary, having just settled into Stateroom M156. While obviously Cabin/First Class, given the substantial floor area, it is far from ostentatious.

Travelling here from San Francisco was highly enjoyable, but after around 10 hours, increasingly arduous towards the end, as darkness fell over Los Angeles. There are two main rail routes between San Francisco and L.A. The Coast Starlight, an overnight sleeper from Seattle follows the route nearest the Pacific coast. Passengers from San Francisco travel by connecting bus service to Oakland. An alternative route, which the San Joaquin takes is much more inland passing through very wide valleys with distant snow-capped mountains just discernable through the left hand windows. Passengers join this train usually at Emeryville, both around 30 minutes bus ride from downtown San Francisco. In 1991, I travelled over both routes, taking that of the Coast Starlight south, and returning northwards over the San Joaquin route. This year, I travelled south via the San Joaquin. As in 1991, the train was a short formation of 4 cars, including the Cafe car. Today’s train is double deck, again with basic but reliable catering facilities. (Written this morning from 6am). The route, explains Amtrak’s official leaflet and time table, “San Joaquins”, is largely through the “heart of California’s central valley, connecting the San Francisco Bay area and Sacramento south to Bakersfield”. The “Nation’s Salad Bowl” is the nickname given to the vast fertile areas where all manner of fruit, vegetables and (most importantly) wine is produced. Perhaps, more of a sign of the times, are the vast areas of fields now given over to the solar production of electricity, or at least, that’s what I thought they were. Having said all that, the journey to Bakersfield was more interesting than scenic. Several towns are connected by this service which, contrary to one’s prior impression, seems to dispel the belief that Americans no longer use the railways. I am told that Bakersfield was once rail-connected with Los Angeles, but an earthquake destroyed for ever, this rail link. Since then, for that part of the journey, Amtrak has used its own (or hired in) fleet of buses, as it does from San Francisco to where the train calls, either at Emeryville or Oakland. This connectivity continues to work well. While the rail part of this journey allowed merely distant views of snow capped mountain ranges, the bus(coach) journey from Bakersfield takes you, by multi-lane highway through the most spectacular mountain scenery. It “looked” very cold outside, and the usual humidity of Los Angeles just wasn’t there when we called at its well preserved station area, for a brief “leg stretch”.

The coach driver assured me of an abundance of taxis on arrival at Long Beach. It was a local bus driver who, however, took me quite close to a welcome “whole bunch of taxis”. At last, exhausted, I was where I intended to be, just for one more time, maybe, on the hallowed decks of the long since preserved R.M.S. Queen Mary.

(This final section was written last night, 1st Feb. 2019)

San Francisco was warm when I arrived. Not so Los Angeles/Long Beach last night. I was under the misapprehension that L.A. never fell below 70 degrees Fahrenheit.

I shall return to San Francisco on the Coast Starlight on Monday morning.

So far, all services have run reasonably to time, contrary to an excess of negative feedback I sometimes read on this device.

Here are a few pictures taken today.

1 and 2, Transbay “temporary” Terminal, the start of my 10 hour journey to Long Beach.

3 – 7, inside the upper deck of the San Joaquin train

8 and 9, the “famous” waiting room at Los Angeles railway station.

10, the bus used as an Amtrak Thruway service.

Thanks for reading,

David 07.20hrs, 15.20hrs G.M.T.

My phone tells me it’s just after 6.35pm in the U.K. My body clock doesn’t disagree! The journey from my home in Derbyshire has been remarkable in that, so far, the litany of arrangements have ” gone like clockwork”. Buxton, as well as much of northern England had received a substantial fall of snow, thus destroying any hope of catching the 11.49 Cross Country train from Macclesfield to Reading. All roads out of Buxton were blocked. Plan B was to catch the 10.34 train from Buxton, which I made with just 30 seconds, to transfer my luggage from car to train at the station. Thus, I made it on to my original train after all. At Reading, my connection for London Paddington went smoothly, and soon, I was settled into the Hilton, a magnificent restoration of the former Great Western Royal at Paddington Station, formerly one of the major Railway hotels, where, back in the day, I would stay with staff discounts. Those days are gone, but strangely, my superb room, I felt was well worth the £221.00 including breakfast. Better value, I thought, was the late afternoon flight from Heathrow to San Francisco. £650 secured a seat in Premium Economy. The flight, scheduled to arrive at San Francisco at 6.50pm local time, came in 35 minutes early, but all was lost in the lengthy processing of hundreds of passengers from, I would think, several different flights arriving at roughly the same time. I enjoyed the just over 10 hours in the air. I had two seats to myself, and thus plenty of room to spread out. Flying over Greenland was spectacular and added to the enjoyment of this long flight. Travelling west, the sun did not set fully until we were approaching San Francisco. I watched a couple of movies on the seat-back screen in front of me, as well as various documentaries. My third set of earphones actually worked…I think they were imported from Business Class. As promised, a fine limousine arrived minutes after I telephoned the car company, and, after what felt like huge delay getting through airport procedures, I was on my way to San Francisco’s Nikko Hotel. This was even better than the Hilton the night before. Despite being at the end of a 32 hour day, I still had the energy and curiosity to walk around early evening San Francisco, ‘though I didn’t stray too far. I was unable to finish a Thai green chicken curry, but did enjoy what I managed to eat. The next day (today as I write), would be the first of my “explorations”. As I expected, rising early would not be the imposition it would be back home. Probably because of excitement and some anxiety, my sleep was somewhat intermittent. But, the bed was magnificent. However, hence the title of today’s blog, “Sleepless in San Francisco”.

So, today, I was up at 6am, with all preparations for my journey to Long Beach taken care of. I had a breakfast of oatmeal and toast at the Cafe Mason, just a block away from the hotel. Then, leaving my main luggage, two pieces, at the hotel, the porter arranged my taxi for the temporary Transbay Terminal for the connecting bus to Emeryville. All worked out brilliantly, and I am now on my way to Long Beach for three nights on board the former transatlantic Cunard liner, Queen Mary.

1, Heathrow 2,and 3, inside the Boeing 787. 4, sun reflects off the jets. 5, view from my room on the 18th floor. 6 and 7, Amtrak’s connecting bus before an on time departure from the terminal at 9.05am.

The journey continues.

Thanks for reading,

David.

You couldn’t make it up! The packing was complete, all except for a few necessary items to be included the day I travel, tomorrow. As you see from the pictures, some snow fell this afternoon with more promised overnight.

Out of curiosity, I decided to weigh my luggage. My 23kg allowance on one suitcase was exceeded by around 4kg. Time to re-think things at what is becoming rapidly,”this late stage”. To even things out, I am now using a shoulder bag as well as the large and small wheeled cases which I hoped would suffice. Already, I envisage a chaotic packing crisis at the end of my travels, like last year!

Let’s make this blog slightly more interesting. On Thursday, I fly from Heathrow T3 on one of Mr. Branson’s fine aircraft to San Francisco, flight time, 11 hours 20 minutes. My journeys then take me to Los Angeles and Long Beach, before returning to San Francisco for a couple of nights.

On 6th Feb, I board Cunard’s Queen Victoria for a sector of her 2019 World Cruise. After 21 nights, I do my own thing by train bus and internal flights up the east coast of Australia to Coff’s Harbour, Brisbane and Cairns before flying to Darwin. From there, it’s by four day expedition train south to Adelaide, fly toMelbourne, train back to Adelaide for a further two nights. I then finish my railtour with a “bucket list” trip on the Indian Pacific train to Perth. From there, I fly to Singapore for three nights and then west to Dubai. From there, I catch a “slow boat to Southampton”. That’s it in a nutshell. During the sea journeys, I get to see some fascinating little places I never dreamed of ever visiting. The grey and gloom of the pictures in this blog of Higher Buxton will soon be “replaced” by exciting images of great cities, deserts and spectacular seascapes.

Now, back to those final preparations.

Thanks for reading,

David.

Spread out in my bedroom, in front of me with less than five clear days to go before jetting off from Heathrow to San Francisco, are around 40 pages of vouchers, travel arrangements, “small-print” & other travel documents to wade through; it is now MY responsibility to see that all is correct before travelling firstly to London on Wednesday and then from Heathrow, the following afternoon. This will may well be the only time that I set off on a journey where I venture ever westwards until, eventually, I end up back at home, some 73 days later. The “hard work” is in both California and Australia, both explored on long distance rail journeys…I can’t wait! The Pacific crossing to Sydney, on board Cunard’s Queen Victoria, to Australia, and back from Dubai on Queen Mary 2, should be plain sailing…

I get to revisit Singapore and Dubai on my return from Perth. Much of the international flying is with Virgin Atlantic and Singapore Airlines, allegedly No. 1 in the top airlines of the world. It probably is in Business Class!

Future blogs should become progressively interesting as I find myself in some unlikely far flung corners of the world.

All the best for now,

David

For a second time, it is just under four weeks before I embark on a second of four what I now call “global tours” or “G.T.s”. Unlike last year, I know not the approximate distance I will cover; also, unlike last year, I will, this time travel westwards around the world, as opposed to sailing to New Zealand via west Africa, Mauritius and the Indian Ocean south of Australia,and returning via the Far East and Suez Canal. With less regret than I might have expected, “Around the World in 73 Days” does involve huge amounts of flying. Nevertheless, this does have to be another “trip of life time”.

Day 1 is merely a routine 11 hour and 20 minute flight from Heathrow to San Francisco, where, suitably jet lagged, I hit the sack hopefully weary enough for a long sleep.

Day 2, I present myself at a bus station in time for a local connection with a civilised morning departure by train to Bakersfield. I was last on this train, travelling from Bakersfield, in 1991 and am amazed this service survives 28 years later, carrying the name “San Joaquin”. A bus takes me from Bakersfield to Long Beach for a three night stay on board the original Queen Mary. Will this be the last time I wander the hallowed grounds of the former Cabin Class restaurant and other “iconic” areas which survive to this day? Two full days in what might be a luke warm southern California should be enough to revisit or see for the first time, every available part of R.M.S. Queen Mary. (I am not too bothered about exploring Long Beach itself). As in 1991, I head by train and bus on the still running “Coast Starlight”, this time in Business Class. That journey takes almost as long as the flight from Heathrow! Two nights in San Francisco allows one full day to explore this attractive city. The ruins of the Embarcadero Freeway will no longer act as a poignant reminder of a major earthquake in the late 1980s.

All too soon, my brief reminder of a previous glorious holiday of younger times will itself fade into the annals of my future writings as Cunard’s M.V. Queen Victoria (which I hold in less esteem than its flagship sister, Queen Mary 2), will be taking me accross the Pacific Ocean, eventually to New Zealand and Sydney. That voyage fills a huge gap in my ambition to complete a journey around the world, “not by air”. Two other sections complete this “task” on the third “G.T.” later in the year. En route, we call at Honolulu, Tonga and Samoa, for a mini season of warmth, which should continue until I join QM2 at Dubai, for a third north bound transit of the Suez Canal. Arrival at Southampton concludes “once in a lifetime” journey number 2.

I will write again soon.

David

Hammersmith Bridge, Christmas Eve 2018.

To anybody accessing this Blog, Season’s Greetings to you all, and very best wishes for the New Year.

Right now, I am with my sister Mary, and brother in law, John in the church dedicated to St. Magnus the Martyr, London. Earlier today, a rare warmth was ever present during a lengthy walk to The Bishop’s Palace grounds from and back to W6 via the splendid Hammersmith Bridge. Today’s delights were a far cry from the horrendous lunacy ever present on the M1, in diminishing light and pouring rain. But today, all is calm and lovely as the time of the First Communion of Christmas approaches at the sensible hour of 18.00hrs, these days, preferable to me, to a more normal 23.30hrs, reminiscent of the start of a night shift….as I was writing this, the service commenced. Now I am seated in seated in the crypt where a fine meal will be served. The Christmas Supper promises to be every bit as special as the 6pm Midnight Mass. A normally challenging time of year is turning out to be a “best-ever”.

Dinner was magnificent!

David. 24/12/18. 21.10hrs

Some time around this time last year, I penned my first ‘experimental’ blog. On January 10th 2018, I would embark on probably the longest journey I would ever undertake. In fact, R.M.S. Queen Mary 2 would set sail from Southampton at the civilised hour of just before 09.00 the following morning as a result of falling behind schedule on the crossing from New York owing partly, at least, to adverse weather conditions. Provisioning the ship for a seventeen week voyage would be a lengthy process.

Scroll back to December 2017, and progress as far as you wish for my first hand account of this unique once-in-a-lifetime event. Being in several remote locations did present some difficulties. A few entries made in Australia and New Zealand are “out of sync” and appear amongst my entries made in Dubai and other adjacent areas. This should not happen in future writings. Of course, I could enjoy similar trips in the future, but that could well dilute the “specialness” of this immense journey, when, for the first time, I saw the sky over much of Australia and New Zealand during five glorious and exciting weeks in that part of the world.

I didn’t know that on my return to the U.K., it would take two or three weeks to acclimatise to being back at home, despite having come back to the kind of weather I had become accustomed to on the other side of the world.

I had become determined to revisit the Antipodes at the next reasonable opportunity.

Towards the end of January, I begin what is now the second of four “global tours”. And much of this next trip reprises travels of previous years. By August 8th 2019, providing misfortune does not prevent my current plans taking place, I shall have completed a sea and overland complete global circumnavigation. And in 2020, I shall venture into the sixth of the seven continents on a coastal voyage around South America.

Like last year, I hope to write fairly frequently and post numerous photographs as the journey progresses.

In the meantime, to anybody reading this, a very HAPPY CHRISTMAS and joyous NEW YEAR.

David.

Although it has been fifty-two years since I last visited the Ffestiniog Railway as part of the 1966 Festiniog Railway Special from London Paddington, I had no difficulty recognising the distinctive Harbour Station of Porthmadog. Back then, there was no thought of the Welsh Highland Railway being reinstated from Caernarfon. Today, the whole organisation is what I would term as “world class”. Unfortunately, it is not possible to travel on both railways the whole way in both directions in one day. Strangely, it IS possible to drive from Buxton to Porthmadog, travel both ways the full length of Ffestiniog Railway and drive back to Buxton, arriving home not too late in the evening. According to the sat-nav, the 138 mile “fastest” route takes under three hours. These pictures were taken Saturday 22nd September 2018; I had travelled from Porthmadog on the 13.35 service, arriving back at 16.15hrs. The weather had brightened up, enabling the spectacular views North Wales has to offer.

David Nevell.

A Caernarfon bound service from Porthmadog.

(Below) Having arrived at Porthmadog, our South African Railways Garratt locomotive will take water prior to attaching to the Pullman end of the train in readiness for departure at 14.15hrs. Note: I remember Porthmadog ending with the letter “C”, hence today’s incorrect, or English spelling I use occasionally.

The (presumably original) brass cabside number plate.

(Below)

A couple of green liveried Welsh Highland Railway coaches at Portmadog. The trains I saw were mainly of coaching stock in dark red and cream livery with one or two passenger coaches in all-over maroon. This elegant colour scheme generates a certain credibility in what I see is a superb and highly professional organisation.

(Above) A passenger vehicle in dark green with cream panels. Again, very attractive; I need to learn more about previous Welsh Highland and Ffestiniog coaching stock colour schemes.

The magnificent Pullman car which like those on the main line, offer single arm chair seating each side.

(Above) Water stop on the way back to Caernarfon. (Below) “Journey’s end” after a spectacular (thanks to the weather brightening up) 135 minute ride from Porthmadog. Tomorrow, I make my own way to Porthmadog for a return journey on the Ffestiniog Railway…after a period of 52 years. I rather think that “we English” used to spell Ffestiniog with one “F”. Storm Bronagh has subsided. Apparently, the next storm system is headed for the southeast, leaving the distinct possibility of a decent day tomorrow.

Thanks for reading and best wishes,

David.

“Journey’s End”

Ex South African Railways loco No.87 takes on water at Caernarfon after a spectacular 50 mile round-trip into the Welsh Highlands and on to Porthmadog.

D.N. 22/9/18

There was hope in last night’s weather forecast that today might be drier and brighter. It is; The incessant downpours of yesterday have indeed given way to short sharp bursts of heavy rain, together with a cold and unpleasant breeze, presumably from the northwest.

The short drive from Meifod Country House Hotel to the temporary Caernarfon Station presented no problems, and the almost adjacent £2.00 per day car park, operated by a next-door tyre fitting firm, had plenty of room. The distant sound of an American style locomotive chime whistle heralded the eventual splendidly spectacular sight of the 10.00hrs Welsh Highland Railway service to Portmadoc. I missed a brilliant photo opportunity as the train was hauled into the station by a former South African Beyer Garratt locomotive. Such inclement weather at home would have determined my not being in a rush to leave a warm comfortable bed.

Soon, I was looking at the train which would take me through some of the loveliest countryside anywhere. I recognised the first mile or so of the journey from childhood memories of travelling from Caernarvon (as it was spelled then) to Groeslon, base for a number of North Wales summer holidays. Two hours and 15 minutes later, we arrived at a windswept Portmadoc. The breeze turned my ears to porcelain and my eagerness to explore anything other than for somewhere to eat and take shelter, was diminished to extinction. Portmadoc is blessed with a pub called the “Australia”. And it was a jolly sight warmer inside than it was outside! Tomato and red pepper soup followed by lasagne with peas and boiled potatoes did the trick! Soon, I shall be on my back to Caernarfon.

Storm Bronagh does seem less tempestuous than its immediate predecessor Ali. Thus, I am having a brilliant time today, experiencing the absolute miracle of the rebuilt Welsh Highland Railway. The Pullman car is well worth the modest upgrade to First Class.

It was a very brief ride on the Puffing Billy Railway near Melbourne, Australia (3.5 out of 15 miles) that prompted a renewed interest in similar railways in the U.K.

Thanks for reading. More pictures later.

David.