London Buses On The Go
Transport for Wales 143601 || Cardiff Central
It’s past midnight. I’m pretty exhausted. Alas, the urge to write up my first ‘proper’ trip out travelling is too great.
One recurring theme of the ‘All The Stations’ series was the difference between a trainspotter and someone that is interested in railways, though such a binary might be too simplistic. While my main reason for travelling to Wales was to take one last ride on a Pacer train, their social and cultural significance trumps any technicalities or inner workings for me. It is especially convenient that they operate on the South Wales Valley lines, as this allowed an exploration of an area rich in history, yet seemingly distant from my family on the fringes of Swansea.
Though the official dispensation on the stock lasts until May 31st, I wasn’t sure of their official last day. Having recovered from my last ever(!) set of supposedly mini but in some cases not very mini at all A-Level exams, it seemed appropriate to cough up the scandalous Great Western fare as soon as possible and head over to Cardiff.
Cardiff. Talk about coming up in the world. All those new apartments. Once the tram-trains are running it really will be a Welsh version of the Manchester it so longs to replicate.
I was very fortunate in being able to sample a Pacer to Rhymney, generally credited as the most ‘scenic’ of the Valley lines, although I would argue that all possess their own character. It is only the final stretch from Bargoed to Rhymney that really gives a sweeping perspective on the design of the valleys, demonstrating both the scars in the mountains, but also the intricate embedding of neat terraced housing into the landscape. All this viewed, of course, from a Pacer train with reasonably large windows, even if they were minging.
The association of Pacers with transporting the proletariat en masse seemed so characteristically appropriate, yet also inappropriate for this trip. The sense of collective struggle, solidarity and determination resonates with these battered old trains still clocking up the miles every day. And yet the images of packed Northern rail services are the opposite of a weekday going up the Valleys. It’s almost deserted. Senior citizens logically use the bus for their travels, while the lack of appropriate reskilling after deindustrialisation means the economic and cultural opportunities in Cardiff are nothing more than a fallacy for many. And so people become less mobile. The cycle of deprivation continues.
While the trains offer a fantastic experience, traversing the valleys with sweeping panoramas, it is the bus which really unveils the reality of life in these parts. Waiting for the bus on Bargoed High Street - in the rain, naturally - it was so disheartening to see the majority of shops shut. This was not a flourishing centre of commerce. This was not a place for thriving businesses, the high street was ghostly quiet.
Jobcentre plus, closed. The metaphorical significance could not be greater.
If one were to pick a bus route to sample in the Valleys, the number 1 from Bargoed to Merthyr Tydfil (yes, in this direction) really is something special. The panoramas of spoiled hills are just more thrilling on a Dart Pointer speeding along roads that are barely even roads, yet the beauty of this specific route is its ability to dip into the villages sandwiched between the mountain ranges. Fochriw, in particular. Pebble dash galore, the bus is evidently a lifeline for this community. The bus offers those fleeting conversations between residents of these places, the everyday lives behind those neat terraces. The bus isn’t afraid of going the extra mile, getting itself stuck every now and then. It is the bus that really solidified my understanding of life in the valleys today. By no means is this understanding substantial, as one afternoon does not equate to making somewhere my home, but the experience is one I will cherish.
Fochriw, of course, hosted a primary school. The playground of small children, joyous and playful. And this links to the most poignant moment of the trip. As the Pacer from Merthyr Tydfil made its way down the valley, it passed Aberfan. It looks like any other mining village. Except it isn’t. The disaster killed 116 schoolchildren and 28 adults as a spoil heap collapsed. Such scarring is evident throughout the valleys today - indeed, a recent landslide in Tylorstown is a stark warning for history not to repeat itself.
Government has been warned repeatedly about such dangers, yet progress seems to be minimal and marred by bureaucracy. The valleys are geographically fascinating, resilient and flowing with community spirit, but its people have been let down. Pacers, as much as they are a delight to experience as a privileged London commuter, are not fit for purpose. The prospect of tram-trains gliding up the valleys in 2023 seems to so many just another fallacy. Another promise, inevitably broken.
Come see the valleys for yourself. Say farewell to the iconic Pacer, but also reflect on the history of an area which still defines South Wales to this day. Most importantly, channel the raw experience into striving for change. Use Hilary Cottam’s experiments as a starting point. Foster that community spirit into a regeneration that is sustainable and sensitive, giving communities the resources that they need to help themselves. We owe it to the people.
Transport for Wales 143601 || Cardiff Central
It’s past midnight. I’m pretty exhausted. Alas, the urge to write up my first ‘proper’ trip out travelling is too great.
One recurring theme of the ‘All The Stations’ series was the difference between a trainspotter and someone that is interested in railways, though such a binary might be too simplistic. While my main reason for travelling to Wales was to take one last ride on a Pacer train, their social and cultural significance trumps any technicalities or inner workings for me. It is especially convenient that they operate on the South Wales Valley lines, as this allowed an exploration of an area rich in history, yet seemingly distant from my family on the fringes of Swansea.
Though the official dispensation on the stock lasts until May 31st, I wasn’t sure of their official last day. Having recovered from my last ever(!) set of supposedly mini but in some cases not very mini at all A-Level exams, it seemed appropriate to cough up the scandalous Great Western fare as soon as possible and head over to Cardiff.
Cardiff. Talk about coming up in the world. All those new apartments. Once the tram-trains are running it really will be a Welsh version of the Manchester it so longs to replicate.
I was very fortunate in being able to sample a Pacer to Rhymney, generally credited as the most ‘scenic’ of the Valley lines, although I would argue that all possess their own character. It is only the final stretch from Bargoed to Rhymney that really gives a sweeping perspective on the design of the valleys, demonstrating both the scars in the mountains, but also the intricate embedding of neat terraced housing into the landscape. All this viewed, of course, from a Pacer train with reasonably large windows, even if they were minging.
The association of Pacers with transporting the proletariat en masse seemed so characteristically appropriate, yet also inappropriate for this trip. The sense of collective struggle, solidarity and determination resonates with these battered old trains still clocking up the miles every day. And yet the images of packed Northern rail services are the opposite of a weekday going up the Valleys. It’s almost deserted. Senior citizens logically use the bus for their travels, while the lack of appropriate reskilling after deindustrialisation means the economic and cultural opportunities in Cardiff are nothing more than a fallacy for many. And so people become less mobile. The cycle of deprivation continues.
While the trains offer a fantastic experience, traversing the valleys with sweeping panoramas, it is the bus which really unveils the reality of life in these parts. Waiting for the bus on Bargoed High Street - in the rain, naturally - it was so disheartening to see the majority of shops shut. This was not a flourishing centre of commerce. This was not a place for thriving businesses, the high street was ghostly quiet.
Jobcentre plus, closed. The metaphorical significance could not be greater.
If one were to pick a bus route to sample in the Valleys, the number 1 from Bargoed to Merthyr Tydfil (yes, in this direction) really is something special. The panoramas of spoiled hills are just more thrilling on a Dart Pointer speeding along roads that are barely even roads, yet the beauty of this specific route is its ability to dip into the villages sandwiched between the mountain ranges. Fochriw, in particular. Pebble dash galore, the bus is evidently a lifeline for this community. The bus offers those fleeting conversations between residents of these places, the everyday lives behind those neat terraces. The bus isn’t afraid of going the extra mile, getting itself stuck every now and then. It is the bus that really solidified my understanding of life in the valleys today. By no means is this understanding substantial, as one afternoon does not equate to making somewhere my home, but the experience is one I will cherish.
Fochriw, of course, hosted a primary school. The playground of small children, joyous and playful. And this links to the most poignant moment of the trip. As the Pacer from Merthyr Tydfil made its way down the valley, it passed Aberfan. It looks like any other mining village. Except it isn’t. The disaster killed 116 schoolchildren and 28 adults as a spoil heap collapsed. Such scarring is evident throughout the valleys today - indeed, a recent landslide in Tylorstown is a stark warning for history not to repeat itself.
Government has been warned repeatedly about such dangers, yet progress seems to be minimal and marred by bureaucracy. The valleys are geographically fascinating, resilient and flowing with community spirit, but its people have been let down. Pacers, as much as they are a delight to experience as a privileged London commuter, are not fit for purpose. The prospect of tram-trains gliding up the valleys in 2023 seems to so many just another fallacy. Another promise, inevitably broken.
Come see the valleys for yourself. Say farewell to the iconic Pacer, but also reflect on the history of an area which still defines South Wales to this day. Most importantly, channel the raw experience into striving for change. Use Hilary Cottam’s experiments as a starting point. Foster that community spirit into a regeneration that is sustainable and sensitive, giving communities the resources that they need to help themselves. We owe it to the people.