Arniston Rangers v Jeanfield Swifts, McBookie.com Scottish Junior East Premier League
The very last weekend of the season for British senior football, and only the Scottish Junior leagues are still playing. Arniston is the chosen club as they play at Gorebridge on the recently re-opened borders line, so an opportunity to clear that route and get a game in.
....for the 0743 TransPennine Express to Newcastle.
Leaving the Calder Vale, the sun had been breaking through, but approaching Newcastle, and the weather had turned. The mist above this river belongs solely to me.
At Newcastle it was on to a Cross Country service.
Past the Holy Isle.
.....across the Royal Border Bridge....
.....and off at Berwick.
Just to confirm that.
Required haulage.
At Berwick it was a wander down the hill into town, to get the reverse view from the road bridge, of a train going over the rail viaduct.
With a +10 before my bus, there was the opportunity for a splash and dash at the non-guide Whetherspoon by the bus stop. A Salamander – Thorny Issue was had.
My bird to freedom was this bus heading to Galashiels.
As it was a two hour bus ride, it was a pleasant surprise to find walnut flooring and leather seats. Alright, wood effect linoleum and dark vinyl seating.
There was uproar a year or so ago, when First stopped running the service. It demanded that this 'social lifeline' be continued, so local operator Perryman's are now subsidised to run it. I'm always dubious of these routes that have massive subsidies, as it is usually because no one uses them. I was therefore pleasantly surprised when the bus left Berwick centre full and standing, albeit exclusively with pensioners on free passes. However, this justification ended almost immediately, as as soon as we got to the top of the hill, everyone decamped to the out of town Morrisons, leaving three of us to justify the busses existence for the next 90 minutes.
Heading out of Berwick, looking back down the Tweed.
I had chosen the bus move for a couple of reasons. Firstly, the National Rail map now includes selected key bus links and there are a few I need to clear to say I have done all the rail/bus/ferry routes on the map. Secondly, the borders area is somewhere I have never done, as there has been no rail lines to travel on, and not a lot of football to visit. I was expecting the area to be more mountainous than it was, instead it being no more scenic than Wiltshire, but with places of interest many hours away. God knows why Hadrian built a wall, anyone invading the area would have board themselves to death, unless they really like Rohan outlets.
The biggest place on route was Melrose, which is still tiny.
The only knowledge of the place I had was its rugby club, which was located in an open park as we exited the town.
The scenery had started getting more interesting, including a textbook shot of a fly fisherman in the Tweed.
Eventually we were in Galashiels. This is the official 'capital' of the borders and by far the largest town. It is where Fish wrote Kayleigh, which seems to be such a momentous happening that the lyrics are carved into the town square.
The town had one guide pub, a Wetherspoons that I couldn't be bothered to clear, so instead it was to the new station, adjacent to the bus interchange.
In rolled a Scotrail 158....
....which took me a couple of minutes down the line to the current terminus at Tweedbank. This route was originally part of the Waverley route from Carlisle to Edinburgh. It closed in 1969 amongst much acrimony, as it left a huge part of central southern Scotland with only temperamental bus links to the outside world. There has been much lobbying to reopen the route ever since, and the northern section was done so last year.
As there is nothing at Tweedbank, I immediately returned. Between the two stations is the ground of Lowland League Gala Fairydean, who as well as having an iconic name, also have this legendary brutalist concrete main stand. The railway overlooks the sports complex, but somehow I managed to take my photo at the only point where the rugby club stand obscures the football one. I shall return.
Heading onwards, the scenery had vastly improved, as it always does once you get on a train, with proper hills.
After 30 minutes or so, we arrived at my destination of Gorebridge.
Come on kids, plan ahead when writing words, even if it does make good smoke.
Gorebridge is a former mining area which now is a not really any industry area. The railway returned here in 2015 and still has the heartbeat like scene of the Station Garage and Hotel.
There was one Guide Pub in the town, this rather strange place, the Stobsmill. It was listed in the Guide as having one beer on, which didn't sound promising. There was no signage, only a Tennants 'T'. Inside, the place stank of manky dogs, despite none being present, or anyone at all actually. My usual procedure for obtaining drink in a pub is to go to the bar, the bar person asks me what I want, I chose something and they serve it to me. Not here. I went to the bar, and a huge barrel of a woman was sat at the end doing a crossword. After a minute or so, without looking up, she enquirer, 'do you actually want anything?'. Slightly taken aback, I stated, yes, I'd have a pint of Cross Fire, the only ale on tap. This resulted in a massive sigh from Ma Bacon, who bemoaned 'that's all anyone's ordering today, you're the third person'. Stung by this critique, I retreated to the empty lounge, only to hear someone come in and order three and a half pints of Cross Fire.
The one decent thing was the whiskey egg timer.
I left Big Mo to keep scolding people for having the audacity to order beer in a pub, and headed to the ground.
A particularly unassuming entrance......
....was marked by some ambitious signage...
....but here we were.
Arniston Rangers 2 v Jeanfield Swifts 3, McBookie.com Scottish Junior East Premier League
Arniston have been going since 1893, not doing much in that time, save a single Scottish Junior cup win in the 1920s and a few local cup wins in more recent times. They have been hit hard by the decline in the local coal mining.
Jeanfield Swifts are from Perth and were formed in 1928. However, they played locally in the Tayside league until 2006 when they joined the Junior system. They were promoted to the East premier three years ago.
This was a top of the table clash, Arniston being sure of fourth and Jeanfield having already won the league.
The main side has a large, open concrete terrace. In the middle of this is a substantial walled off players tunnel.
This would make sense if it weren't for the fact that as soon as they get to the top of the tunnel, there is open wasteland to treck across to get to the changing rooms.
The opposite side has a substantial covered terrace, which is slowly falling to bits. Five years ago the ground had to be vacated as it did not meet league standards.
This was one area that was upgraded, with paving slabs installed, but these are now working loose and disintegrating……
…..despite the absolute plethora of bird shit holding it together.
The cladding was also falling apart, giving a liberal sprinkling of asbestos.
Behind one goals was what looked to be a grass bank…
…..but on further inspection was actually a heavily overgrown terrace.
Behind the other bank was a grass bank.
The pitch surround was a new innovation; cut up, 60lb bull head rail track with steel cable between.
The journey was almost worth it just to see this ingenious use of pallets to make the stadiums only seating.
An immense amount of clutter, including a worrying number of tyres.
Due to the early escape from Scotland's least welcoming land lady, I was at the game half an hour before kick off. I took my place in the sun on the open terrace to watch one of non-leagues delights, warming up the goalkeeper. The reason for this is that anyone spare is commandeered to put crosses in for the keeper to catch. However, the reason these people are spare is because they aren't any good. This results in, being generous, approximately one in five of the crosses being anything near a cross that the keeper might normally go for.
The rest just go sailing over the cross bar, land on the D of the penalty area, or trickle along the ground to the keepers feet. The coach then moved on to heading warm ups for the centre halves, hence the ball is propelled at waist height to them.
A shrill whistle from the referee signalled that he was ready to go, and across the wasteland were firstly Arniston…
…then, foxing everyone, from a fire exit emerged Jeanfield, who entered the pitch through a guard of honour for their title achievements.
Within 30 seconds of the kick off, Jeanfield scored.
Behind each goal was a gaggle or early teens, hiding in the long grass heckling the keeper.
The game also saw the seasons most dapper linesman.
Though he had to be reminded a couple of times about keeping up with play, as he would resolutely post himself on the halfway line talking to players, as the ball was in the six yard box of the end he was officiating. Jeanfield scored a second with the Lino up with the play as ever (he was still making notes about a booking).
The subs taking it easy behind the goal.
There seemed to be an unwritten rule that at least once a minute, a spectator had to say "that's Shiite" in a nasal voice. However, Arniston still had their chances and remarkably pulled it back to two all. However, Jeanfield scored what proved to be the winner, mid way through the second half.
Departing through an even less salubrious portal than the entrance….
…..I returned to the station.....
....for a unit on to Edinburgh.
By now, there were actual mountains appearing on the horizon.
I managed to make a -3 connection at Waverley, onto an East Coast service, which was taken to Newcastle for a Trans Pennine.
Crossing back over the Tyne, and Newcastle had joined in with the sun.
This was the only cheese today, in a crudette form with vegetable sticks.
Last week I'd won a ham in a meat raffle in a pub in Manchester. However, when I went to collect it, instead of a small cooked ham, instead it was this beast. So I have been living on plates of sliced ham all week and my body was craving some fresh vegetables.
Passing through York, a couple of Deltics at the north end….
…and new build kettle Tornado waiting to depart south from the station with a railtour.
A change at Leeds to me to Sowerby for a couple more in the Jubilee rooms, then home for another plate of Serrano Ham.
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