Trains are a big part of, quite simply, my existence.
This is a photo of Onslow House (Circa 1905) before it's demolition in 1981 my Nana (my Dad's mum) ran it as a boarding house for Railway workers. One of the boarders was my grandfather (my mother's Dad). Onslow house is what brought my parents together.
My maternal grandfather, my paternal step-grandfather, my father and later my uncle all worked for NZ Rail (and it's various other incarnations).
My father actually originally went to Teacher's College out of high school- but when his teenage girl friend ended up pregnant (me) he left and eventually ended up working for Rail. When I was a pre-schooler and early school years he worked as a relieving Station Master at the smaller stations along the lines south of Dunedin: Milton, Balclutha, Gore and Mataura. This was back in the good old days when such stations actually had need of a station master. On a few treasured occasions I was allowed to join him- spending my time messing around hotels, small towns and of course the stations. I got to drive a train on one occasion. Got to make deliveries of stuff off the trains to local businesses (hello pocket money and free ice creams!). And enjoyed the company and Eskimo Pies of a lovely lady called Mrs Timoti at the Hotel Mataura.
When I got older and station masters went the way of the dinosaurs my Dad got a job in Christchurch and that was when the real fun began.
Dunedin Railway Station- isn't it amazing. I've been to the very top of the clock tower and explored many of it's rooms after it was no longer a real working station. Lots of treasures left behind after people finished their last days of work and walked out leaving behind vintage clocks, first aid kits and other treasures.... I wish I had have taken the opportunity to acquire some of the abandoned items.
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Don't you think people just did things so much better in the earlier part of the last century? They paid so much more respect to details and aesthetics.
This is my station and that's my line. While I have done the southern stretch of the main trunk line from Dunedin to Invercargill- the vast majority of my trips were done from Dunedin to Christchurch on long weekends and school holidays to go see my Dad.
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This is me on the train.
When I first started going I was about 10 years old my mum would give the hostess a heads up that I was travelling alone. God that annoyed me- I was perfectly capable and I knew what I was doing!
Evetually I just got one with it. The Southerner left just before lunch time- I'd ride my BMX to the station on a Friday and stash it in the luggage rooms at the station and then jump on the train. When I first started going it was an almost 6 hour trip but a lot of time was cut off the trip by the time I grew up and moved away. 6 hours of freedom and fun. 6 HOURS of no parents. 6 Hours of amazing views, reading time and making my own decisions. Bliss.
When I first started travelling there would often be up to 4 carriages plus the Buffet Car and the Guards Van, by the time I was done there were only one and a half- the other half of which was the 'buffet car'.
By about this point out of the station most people would have already picked up their books or magazines and happily settled in for the journey. Not me this area of North Dunedin was part of my vast stomping ground I liked to see all the goings on. Check the level of the Leith River as we crossed it and see where the tide was at when we came along side it at Ravensbourne.
This is just past the Sulphur works- a must see sight for me- huge mountains of neon yellow sulphur- I thought they were amazing.
On a few occasions you could see smaller cruise ships in the harbour and pods of dolphins.
Looking at the other side of the peninsular I always thought that Hill looked like a balding man with a beard, bushy eye brows, houses for his eyes and a hedge for his nose. Can you see it?
Just after the first tunnel of the journey. Roseneath and Sawyer's Bay.
Through the cutting at Port Chalmers and Carey's Bay. The second tunnel of the journey. I used to like to do a variety of things in the tunnels- hold my breath, time how long they were (and log it for reference sake). But best of all, and totally NOT allowed, stand on the platform outside the door of the Guards wagon! Being 'outside' in the dark of the tunnel was both terrifying and exhilarating!!
Orokonui
After this the train climbs over the hill and around Purakanui and Orokanui- where the longest tunnel of the route can be found. You come out from here and look out over Waitati and Blue Skin Bay- it's beautiful.
Looking back from Evansdale over Blueskin bay.
Warrington
After this is through Warrington- where you have to look out for the house that looks like a UFO! And Seacliff- home to an infamous 'Mental Hospital'.
Karitane
Past Waikouaiti and then Karitane- scene of my Form 2 school camp! And on past Goodwood.
Somewhere around this point the Northbound train stopped and waited for the Southbound or vice versa depending on who was having the best run. Then Bev and all her crew (Hostesses and train driver and guard) would swap trains and head back home to Invercargill. And the Christchurch based crew would join our train. It was always a bonus when they for got to pass on the message that I was travelling alone. :-)
The train then made what was it's first stop in the early days- Palmerston. Later the small station was just another that was by-passed along the way.
Shag Point
Not long after this stretch of track there is a railway over bridge (between Hampton and Herbert) the train crosses from the eastern side of State Highway one to the Western side of it. If you have the misfortune to be travelling just at the wrong time it looks distinctly like you are about to have a collision with a large petrol tanker. You can sense the Engine and any forward carriages turning into the path of the traffic but it feels like it is just at the last moment before the traffic collides with the train that the carriage you are one swings up and over the bridge. I know this from experience, obviously.
Pareora
I had a ritual in Timaru. This was the longest stop of the journey other than the staff changeover.
Wait by a door (not in view of the Buffet Car).
Watch for the cafe to see how many people were in line.
Open the door as soon as the train stopped.
Dash for the cafe.
Get my food.
Wait nervously in line to pay.
Listen diligently to the speakers that will announce the trains impending departure.
Imagine various scenarios for if I missed the train.
Pay.
Hot foot it back to the train.
I always made it.
The infamous Railway Pie always tasted best when brought from Timaru. And depending on the available cash a small chunky block of Cadbury Grapefruit Chocolate (or two) and a can of Fresh-up.
Orari
The trip through South Canterbury is studded with bridges some of them tremendously long. Depending on the season the rivers could be absolutely raging or nothing but a trickle and metres and metres of soft round grey rocks.
Allenton
When I was little the scariest part of the train was moving between the carriages. Although it was enclosed the floor was a number of moving parts and there was always that idea floating around that you might suddenly find the two carriages split apart and yourself in some sort of Indiana Jones-esque trouble.
The weirdest thing that ever happened was in South Canterbury one time. The train was travelling alongside a paddock that was bounded by an irrigation drain. Running along the side of each train is a mound of soil about a metre high. I saw ahead through my window a large rabbit or a hare was sitting on the bank. Just as my window reached the position where the rabbit was he jumped into the water. I was totally blown away. I was looking around the train to see if anyone else heard it but I think I may have been the only one.
The best part of the train ride as a whole was the sound the train makes.
Ta-tic----ta-tic----ta-tic----ta-tic----ta-tic----ta-tic.
It's a soft noise and very rhythmic. The interval between each ta-tic speeds up and slows down with the train. For me I guess that noise represents the train and everything about the journey that I loved. Being the numbers girl that I am I once counted the number of 'ta-tic's' in minute- and the number of minutes in a trip and of course therefore the average number of 'ta-tic's' in a journey.
and D Weston and C Harris (Trainweb)
The old Christchurch Station.
One of the longest ever trips I took on the Southerner was with my little sister Caitlin- she was about 2 or 3 and I was I guess around 20. She was right in the middle of the 'Why?' stage. It was 5 long hours of why. Why is it dark in the tunnel? Why do they have tunnels? Why is it noisy between the carriages? Why is it stopping? Why is it going? Why are the ladies getting off? Why does the driver have to swap trains? Why, why, why, why, why? And also 'Why betause?' Because saying 'because' NEVER works as an answer to the question 'Why?' when you are talking to a two year old.
My last journey on The Southerner was in 1996. I had no idea it would be the last and that makes me sad. The Southerner made it's last run on Sunday the 10th of February 2002- I would have dearly loved to have done that journey from Invercargill all the way to Christchurch- it would have been about 10 hours of Railway bliss!
♥
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