Un sueno me envolvio

Pelynt v North Petherwin 

Liskeard Athletic Reserves v Tavistock Reserves

Grampound Reserves v Pensilva

A day back in my old non-league stomping ground of the South West.  Long time readers may have forgotten the predecessor to the now standard 'the 0636 Blackpool service off Sowerby', which was 'the 0826 Penzance service off Swindon'.  Well, my years absence has seen it become the 0832 off Swindon, but here it is, still full of staff.

My first pass through Bath since the second of three six week blocades, which has moved the track further out...

...with the platform also extended, so electric wires can now fit in without knocking down any buildings.  Except the signalling has yet to be imunised so electrification can't be completed for another five years anyway.  Tssk, this country.

So down to the West Country, and with my dad choosing to stay at home, it meant his view that the it starts when we get to race cars when the line is alongside the M5, is superceded by my view of it starting as we run down a muggy Exe estuary.

Turning the corner at Dawlish and alongside the sea itself, looking very choppy and even more cold.

What had been a fairly sunny start at Swindon, had deteriorated to drizzle as we circumnavigated Dartmoor.

Dropping down to join the river Plym.

Then through Plymouth and passing the naval dockyard at Devonport.

Onto the Royal Albert Bridge.

Into Cornwall.

I was off at the first stop in the county; Liskeard.

My train headed off to Penzance, whilst I went off to find my next train, which is on one of the strangest station layouts on the network.

So here you have the main line platforms, looking towards Plymouth.

But what about the Looe branch?

Well a wander to the end of the platform finds a sign.

And a wander across finds another station, in the car park, and perpendicular to the main one.

Where promptly a train arrived.

This being a junction station, there was a couple of minutes to wait for the connecting train going the other way, so I went to what I thought was a farm shop in the yard, hoping to get some over priced organic product.

But it was actually a shop for farmers, where I could buy cow feeders...

...or sheep hurdles, whatever they may be.

But all too soon the connection arrived.

And is seen departing at right angles, behind my single car unit.

And so we departed.  Now that must be the madness out of the way?  But no, the branch line does a massive loop round.

And goes back under the main line, right by the station.

And still the wonderment continues, as another line joins us.

The guard jumps out and changes the points, and we change directions, have dropped 205 feet since we left the station, which is now only 45 feet away laterally.

For those that are now completely lost, this is the route that has just been taken, haven arrived by the main line from the right, changed at the station onto the branch line, reversed at Coombe, and headed off on the line at the bottom.

Carrying on the madness, the branch is built on an old canal, and rattles down an isolated wooded valley.

It has the quirkiest named stations, such as this.

This.

And this.

Finally we emerge into the open, but the line is actually now running down the centre of a river, as it was the only flat bit of land available in the valley.

And so we arrive into Looe.

With a decent number of passengers heading for civilisation.

But I had an immediate bus connection.

Over the bridge to West Looe.

Running along the quayside to the normal turning point, found it to be blocked by the fire station open day.

So it was some extremely rare bus mileage along the coast road.

Until we eventually found somewhere to turn, somewhere near Looe Island.

On we headed, noting that the ground at Pelynt was looking a lot more developed than on my last visit in the 1990s.

Dropping down into Polperro.

Keeping the service alive was myself and a Bosnian kitchen porter.

It was off at the extremity of permitted acces to the village.

So onto the shuttle bus, which are extremely rateable converted milk floats.

Much more so than the new adition to the fleet, which is a very unstable looking Bedford Rascal.

Though still more appealing than the other conversion in the car park.

We headed off through the streets.

To journey's end at the harbour.

Another wining form of transport to get to a game.

I had a quick wander down o the harbour.  There is a smuggling museum, but my knowledge of the activity is based purely on the film 'The Business', so I assume it to be a museum about the woes of Danny Dyer and Tamer Hussain's woodern acting, and what damage wearing horrifically tight tennis shorts can do to a man's fertility.

So it was on to the football.  Except arriving at the ground, and things that didn't look too promising.

Sure enough, there was no game on, though this time it appears I was in the wrong, as full time showed both firsts and reserves to be away.

So the dug outs remained unoccupied, apart from by me, trying to find an alternate game.  But fortune shone on me, as there was one within walking distance.

So off I went, passing roads that sound like South African fast bowlers.

And down narrow country lanes.

And even narrower country lanes.

Inevitably, there was some 'B-road grass verge walk of shame' action.

Until 40 minutes later, I stumbled upon this.

Which is the home of these.

Pelynt 0 v North Petherwin 5, Duchy League - Premier Division

Pelynt have had a football side since the 1950s.  They played in the Liskeard and district league until it merged with the St Austell league in the 1960s to become the Duchy league, and the club have remained in the competition since.  The last decade saw them rise to the premier division, and also support a reserve side, though they appear to be struggling with both of those this season.

North Petherwin are right on the extremes of the league catchment area, being located north of Launceston.  The club were formed in 2003, playing in the Kingsley eague in North Devon, before stepping up to the Duchy league, where they have quickly risen through the divisions.  I've been to their ground and happily watched an Asian short clawed otter rip apart a freshwater crayfish.  I have no recollection of the actual game though.

The ground itself is a mile or so out of the village, in a hamlet called Barcelona Cross, which is in the middle of three caravan parks. 

Meaning the ground's name is almost inevitable.  

It has been developed over the last few years with a permanent post and rope fence added.

A small cover erected.

And Multi-national advertising hoardings.

The groundsman's clutter consisted of an abandoned inflatable two man kayak and life vests.

The changing rooms though, are situated somewhere which I never found, and in a very mystical style, the teams just emerge from woodland.

So conveniently, the game got underway.

Petherwin add a quick couple of goals early on.

That was how it stayed until half time, with the keeper making his way into the veritable sea of butter cups at one end.

The game was actually a lot closer than the scoreline suggests.

Pelynt did have chances but didn't take them.

Petherwin did and added another three.

An enjoyable couple of hours ended with the score 0-5.

I headed back to the bus stop.

The bus goes direct from Pelynt to Liskeard, passing the branch line.

And then the main station.

I headed on through to the centre of town.

I had some time to spare before my next game, so took a wander.  You only have to be going a few minutes from the centre before the scene is very pastoral.

But I was dropping in here.

Which houses this.

Which is home to these.  I was at universtity at Plymouth in the 1990s, and Lux Park was always an easy evening game to get to, getting the up sleeper train back after the game.

Liskeard Athletic Reserves 1 v Tavistock 4, Mortgage Advice Bureau East Cornwall Premier League - Premier Division

Liskeard Athletic have been in existence since the 1940s.  They joined the South Western league in the 1960s, and along with Falmouth and Saltash, were one of the Cornish non-league clubs to have a stint in the Western League in the 1970s/80s.  This ended in the mid 1990s, though not before they had won it in 1988.  The reserves joined the East Cornwall league in the early 1990s, and have been there since.

Tavistock I've covered previously, but the reserves stepped up from the Plymouth and West Devon league to the East Cornwall in 2006.

The ground actually outdates the club, having been in use for sports since the 1900s.

The main stand was built in the 1980s, for the club's foray into the Western League.

The standing cover seems to get blown down with every strong wind.  This is the third different one than I can remember.

The ends are both narrow hard standing.

There was a bit of confusion about what game this was.

This one was still wrong, but at least it showed a game from this year.

I didn't see much of the game, but it was the visitors who were on top.

Scoring two goals in the time I was there.

Though I mostly watched the cricket over the fence in the adjacent park.

I had to make a move before the end, but the final score was 1 - 4 to the visitors.

It was back through the centre.

To the station.

Just in time for my train, as it arrives over the viaduct I had been under, on the Looe branch.

I jumped on, and we headed down the Fowey valley, passing over Trago Mills, which is a very strange Cornish institution which is basically a warehouse full of rows of wall paper rolls and brooms, with peacocks randomly walking around.

I was off at St Austell.

Onto a Truro bound bus, with First Cornwall now adopting the old Western National livery.

It was into Grampound where a quick early view of my next ground could be seen.

So it was off the bus.

And into here.  

Both the first and reserve teams had games in the afternoon, and the firsts game was just finishing, and almost immediately mine began, which took me a bit by surprise as I was still mooching around the bowls club.

Grampound Reserves 0 v Pensilva , Duchy League - Division 3

Grampound have been in existence for over a century and were founder members when the Duchy league started in the 1960s.

Pensilva is located just north of Liskeard.  The football team were formed in 1910, playing in the Liskeard and the Launceston league.  They joined the Duchy league in the 1970s, and even had a spell in the East Cornwall league, which is the step below the South West Peninsula, the top non league competition in these parts.  Pensilva currently find themselves struggling, with recent relegations taking them to their lowest level for many years.

Although the ground has been home to Grampound for most of their existence, it has recently gone through some major renovation, most notably with the pitch being levelled and relaid.  The pitch has a permanent rope down both sides.

However, there is no cover, so with the rain now heavier, the spectators were huddled under the trees.

Except for one group, who had pitched a tent from which they watched both games.

The river Fal runs right down one touchline, with the now ubiqutous backdrop to any potentially pleasent scene; dog shit bags hanging from branches.

The catch net was primed for use.

And so to the game.

There was some football.

And some high balls.

Pensilva scored.

A bloke pretended he'd been kicked.

Another bloke did get kicked but the ref pretended he hadn't.

Pensilva scored again.

And again.

In fact quite, a lot.

Nine times in all. 

The second consecutive Saturday I'd seen an away side score nine.

And so the game ended 0-9.

After the game it was back to the village centre for the return working of the bus I'd got down.

Except by now it was very steamed up.

I left it in the town centre.

A quick visit to Lidl, and a sign of a change of habits, it was for a bottle of water rather than eight cans for the journey home.

Back to the station with an attemt at some exotic palm trees at the entrance.

It was another case of rejoining my outward steed, this time the HST i'd got from Liskeard.

Passing the clay dryers at Par harbour.

At Liskeard, over the the Looe branch I'd been on earlier.

A very misty Tamar.

We crossed back into Devon.

And a still choppy and now very misty coastline at Dawlish.

I'd got some local cheese whilst in Polperro, a Truffler from Curds Croust in Redruth, and this was enjoyed on the way home. 

And finally back into Swindon, having endured the usual invasion as half of Chippenham decamps to Swindon on the last train, in order to drink coffee flavoured shots and fight in Yates. Fancy wasting Saturday's on pointless activities?



me.