In 1840, one man transformed travel in the British Isles.
His name was George Bradshaw,
and his railway guides inspired the Victorians to take to the tracks.
Stop by stop, he told them where to travel,
what to see and where to stay.
Now, 170 years later, I'm making a series of journeys
across the length and breadth of these isles
to see what of Bradshaw's Britain remains.
Steered by my Bradshaw's Guide, I'm now at the halfway point
of my journey from London Paddington to Newton Abbot.
Today, I shall complete my crossing of the county of Somerset.
On this leg, I'll be exploring a church that moves
in mysterious ways.
That's extraordinary! It really is moving from side to side!
I'll find out just what it takes to run a 19th-century signal box.
I had no idea what a signalman needed to do
was so responsible and so physical
And I'll summon all my strength
to shift a 110-tonne steam locomotive.
HE GROANS
She's moving! I can't believe it, she's moving.
On this journey, I'm paying tribute to Isambard Kingdom Brunel,
master engineer of the Great Western Railway.
I started at Paddington station, one of his finest monuments,
travelled west through Wiltshire and into Somerset,
and I'll finish at Newton Abbot in Devon -
the scene of one of his magnificent failures.
I'm covering 25 miles on this leg,
travelling north-west through Somerset
ending on the coast at Minehead.
My first stop today is Taunton.
My Bradshaw's tells me that it was successfully defended
against the Royalists during the English Civil War
and also that, there, the ill-fated Duke of Monmouth
proclaimed himself King in 1685.
Legend has it that Queen Victoria was so incensed
by this history of anti-monarchic feeling
that whenever she crossed Taunton,
she would draw the curtain in her railway carriage window
so as not to see her disloyal subjects.
Looks like Taunton is trying to make up for its anti-Royalist past...
"Somerset's county town," says my Bradshaw's,
"has a most pleasing appearance, situated in the central part
"of the luxuriant Vale of Taunton Deane."
The guidebook's also captivated by one church, St Mary Magdalene.
Bradshaw's tells me that the tower of Taunton's gothic church
is of Henry VII's age, 153 feet high,
of light and elegant proportions,
and set off with pinnacles, battlements and niches
in the elaborate style of that day.
And I'm hoping the vicar can tell me more.
BELLS PEAL
Hello, Michael. Welcome. Lovely to see you.
My Bradshaw's tells me that the tower here is of Henry VII's age,
so it's very historic. Ah! But it isn't quite.
It's not strictly true - it's a facsimile of the original.
The original was 1508, but in Victorian times, they rebuilt it.
They've rebuilt it very faithfully because it doesn't look Victorian.
Well, you know what the Victorians were like, they always liked to add,
but they resisted that temptation. They didn't put a clock face there.
They just built it as it was because it was so magnificent.
The restoration of the church and tower was overseen
by renowned Victorian architect George Gilbert Scott.
One of Britain's most prolific architects,
over 800 buildings in the UK were restored or designed by him,
including, in London, the St Pancras Midland Hotel
and the Albert Memorial in Kensington Gardens.
So, St Mary Magdalene's tower is in esteemed company.
Out into the glorious sunshine.
MICHAEL PANTS
As we came up, my heart was pounding more and more.
The steps were getting steeper and steeper,
and also, thinner and thinner! I have size 11 feet!
MICHAEL SIGHS Not easy... Not easy.
Rod, having walked up all those steps,
gives you an appreciation of the task of building this tower in 1508
and the Victorians rebuilding it. What do you know of the rebuilding?
There is a lovely story about the Victorian rebuild.
In those days, of course,
it was before they had a lot of mechanical help,
so the building was done by pulleys, blocks, tackles
and a donkey.
The donkey went backwards and forwards for several years
down Hammet Street, pulling the heavy stones up the tower.
Then, right at the end,
when the tower was finished in its magnificence,
the builders took the donkey all the way up, to here where we stand now,
to give him a good view of what he'd helped to build.
The donkey must have thought it was
an "Eeyore-some" view. Goodness me!
HE CHUCKLES Yes, I'm sure he did!
There is something else about the tower and that relates to the bells.
There are 15 bells - 12 are regularly rung -
but they are infamous in the bell-ringing world.
They are not terribly good, they need replacing.
Well, you just watch what happens when I call them up.
OK, folks, ready to ring.
BELLS RING
BELLS RING, MICHAEL LAUGHS
I know what happens!
The tower sways!
I am standing in the centre of the tower and it's going...
..wobbly...
BELLS CONTINUE
That's extraordinary, it really is moving from side to side.
I was once in a skyscraper in an earthquake and it felt like this.
Luckily, I trust Victorian builders. Yes.
BELLS PEAL
The Victorians' appetite for railway building meant that
by the end of the 19th century,
whilst mainlines joined the country's major cities,
branch lines had penetrated almost every corner of the country.
One such line, engineered by Brunel, was the West Somerset Railway,
which ran from Taunton to the Somerset coast.
Today the line starts five miles out of town.
When my Bradshaw's was written, the West Somerset line was new.
"14 miles long, It runs through Bishops Lydeard, Crowcombe,
"Stogumber and Williton, to the market town of Watchet."
Today, it runs from Bishops Lydeard to Minehead,
a distance of 20 miles, making it the longest stretch
of standard-gauge heritage railway in the United Kingdom.
I'm going on it, and I'm steaming with excitement.
I've done a lightning change,
because on this trip, not for me the passenger carriage.
No, I'm headed for the footplate.
Hello. Pleased to meet you, Michael.
Can I come on? Please do. Come aboard.
Driver Merv Hebditch has invited me to travel up front.
Always an exciting moment when your steam locomotive leaves the station.
TRAIN HISSES AND CHUGS
TRAIN WHISTLE BLOWS
WHISTLE BLOWS
What a glorious sound this locomotive is making!
TRAIN HISSES AND CHUGS
Brunel was commissioned to build the line.
It was operated by the Bristol & Exeter Railway Company
and opened in 1862. Over a decade later, the line was taken over
by that most famous of railway companies
and one very close to Brunel's heart - the Great Western.
To be in England on a summer's day is bliss,
but to be on a steam locomotive in West Somerset is heaven.
Like other small rural branches, the line closed in the 1970s.
However, it reopened as a heritage railway some years later,
and is enjoyed today by passengers who like a ticket to nostalgia.
We've got quite a crowded train!
Why do you think the British people are so fascinated by steam engines?
They're just a living thing.
We put the fire in the morning, it comes to life, creates steam,
it makes a noise. I've been doing this 52 years,
and I still get a buzz out of it.
I'd like to stay on, but this is my stop. It'd be nice if you could.
I'm disembarking at Williton,
although it's only mentioned in passing in my Bradshaw's Guide.
I'm here to visit something that's a magnet for rail enthusiasts -
a signal box that's nearly as old as the line itself
and still operational.
'Signalman Nick Budd pulls the levers.'
Hello! Hello, Nick, that looks like hard work.
It is. It's nice and warm today. Are you a signalman, born and bred?
No, I was an airline captain, would you believe?
Then I gave it up, and decided to come here.
What did you used to fly?
Boeing 747s.
It just shows the railways attract allsorts.
So, in those days, you had 400 lives under your supervision,
and you do today. Absolutely. The only difference is speed.
In those days, I was flying planes at 650mph,
and today I'm controlling trains at 25mph.
When's our next train? The next train is in 20 minutes.
That doesn't sound like much time to a trainee signalman like me!
First, you set the route, and then the signals.
Now...
These levers are colour-coded.
The black ones are the points.
The blue ones LOCK the points.
The red ones are for signals.
The white ones are spare levers.
The one and only brown one locks and unlocks the gates
on the level crossing.
I think I'd rather fly a 747! That sounds pretty complicated!
Well, that's only the beginning.
'My first job is to close the gates.'
Hope we are still in time. I think, just.
'Next, they need to be locked.'
And home.
Time to put off the signal now. Number 23, please.
It is quite pressurised, isn't it?
The very idea that you're responsible for people's lives.
Usually, there's a train coming the other way at the same time.
'Thank goodness there isn't today! This is complicated enough!'
Signal.
Back.
Gates...
unlocked.
With the train in the station, now I have to open the gates again.
Oh, dear! How do these open?
Ah...
No.
There's a lever the other side.
Thank you, that was a helpful tip. There we go.
I had no idea that what a signalman needed to do
was so responsible and so physical.
OK, the train's here. The gates are open,
the signal's on. What next?
Now we need a token for the train to go to the next signal box. Right.
Three and one? Three and one.
KEY RATTLES
Take it out. I have to take that out? That's it.
'This Victorian token system was a safety measure to ensure
'that no two trains could ever be on one stretch of single track
'at the same time.
'Only a driver with the token in his possession could proceed.
'Let's hope I've got this right!'
I think you're expecting this.
You're not the signalman! I am for now.
Safe journey! Thank you very much. Bye, now.
That went smoothly. All we have to do now
is put that back in the machine,
so that we can get another one out sometime.
A kind offer, but I think that's my lot for the day.
For now, it's onwards.
I'm looking forward to experiencing the ride as a passenger.
My final stop of the day is Watchet,
which my Bradshaw's tells me has
"a coastguard station prettily seated
"in a secluded creek on the Bristol Channel."
It sounds like a delightful place to watch the last rays of the sun.
In the 19th century, Watchet was a busy commercial port,
shipping locally mined iron ore
across the Bristol Channel to the Welsh furnaces.
The only ships docking here today are sailboats and yachts,
as the port is now an active marina.
A beautiful sunset on the Somerset coast,
and I'm lucky to be in Watchet to watch it.
The sun has risen on another beautiful morning.
I'm continuing my journey north on this wonderful heritage line.
My Bradshaw's tells me that
"Dunster Castle, standing on the cliff to the south,
"is within a very short distance". But when my guide was published,
you couldn't get there by train.
Now you take the Dunster Castle Express.
For wealthy landowners in the rural wilds,
the arrival of the railway presented huge financial opportunities.
Some sought profit by allowing the rail companies to build tracks
through their estates, whilst others saw the potential
in bringing tourism and trade to their area.
One such champion was George Luttrell.
In 1867, he inherited the Dunster estate -
at the time, one of the largest in Somerset.
So keen was he to revitalise his corner of the county
that he backed plans to extend the line
from Watchet via Dunster to Minehead,
and he became the first director of this new railway.
And now, appearing out of the smoke from the engine
as though it were looming out of a mist,
is the magnificent sight of Dunster Castle,
brilliantly lit on this sunny day.
What a sight!
Today, Dunster is in the hands of the National Trust,
and volunteer guide Martin Harborne has kindly agreed to tell me more.
What a wonderful room. How old is the castle?
The castle, 1,000 years old. Originally there was a Saxon castle here,
then when the Normans arrived, they built there big stone castle.
Then the Luttrells took it over? Indeed. In 1376, they purchased it.
They were here an awfully long time. Was it 21 generations?
21 generations, 600 years,
right through until 1976, when the Luttrell family handed it over
to the National Trust for their custody.
I'm interested in one particular Luttrell,
a Victorian, George Luttrell.
George Fownes-Luttrell, that's his portrait up there,
and he was involved in the total alteration of the castle,
by the well-known architect of the day, Anthony Salvin.
What sorts of things did he do?
He completely transformed the castle from an Elizabethan-style castle,
where the family lived at one side, the servants lived on this side
and they entertained in the middle...
He turned it into a Victorian comfortable gentleman's residence
with an upstairs and downstairs. And using the latest technology?
Absolutely, yes, he wanted all the latest technology,
things that were almost unheard of down here -
bathrooms, and gas supplies and those sorts of things,
which, in the 1870s, was really cutting-edge stuff.
The remodelling took four years and cost over £25,000,
which was more than Luttrell's yearly income from the estate -
'a sobering £2.5 million in today's money.'
The billiards room was an important part of a Victorian household?
A most essential part.
This was a gentlemen's room. During the Victorian period,
this would have been full of the smells of cigars and brandy
and only the men were allowed in here.
Was this another innovation of George Fownes-Luttrell?
It was. Prior to the alternations,
this was the kitchen of the main house.
Unheard of in Victorian times,
parts of the house had central heating, and the new kitchen,
which was built in the basement, was well ventilated with windows.
It was also state-of-the-art. Mod cons included a two-oven cooker,
a built-in bain-marie and a dumbwaiter.
This pioneering attitude towards new technologies continues unabated.
In 2008, it became the first Grade I listed National Trust property
to have solar panels installed.
George Luttrell would be proud!
Can you think of anything you'd rather have than a beautiful castle?
I can - a beautiful castle with a view of steam trains.
And that's where I'm headed.
Back to Dunster station to pick up the extended line,
which so helped invigorate this rural corner of Somerset.
My journey continues through stunning Somerset toward Minehead,
which my Bradshaw's describes as "a beautiful watering hole".
But when the railway reached there from 1874,
then holiday-makers began to arrive by the train load.
Formerly a small fishing port, Minehead was already popular
amongst the wealthy as a fashionable sea-bathing resort
from as early as 1752.
However, it wasn't until train travel
that it became easily accessible and affordable for the middle classes.
The West Somerset Railway should have linked
across the Porlocks with the Lynton to Barnstaple line,
but even for the Victorians, those hills proved too great an obstacle,
and so, Minehead is the end of the line.
Hello. Hello! How was the train journey? Wonderful, stunning.
Do you know Minehead? Not at all.
Are you going in to have a look? Yes. Where do you suggest we go?
All I know is my Bradshaw's calls it a beautiful watering hole.
Oh! So, sounds like we've got something to look forward to.
A pint or a gin and tonic? Could be either! Enjoy your day! Bye-bye!
Today the station is packed with steam fans,
but in Victorian times, it was tourists from the Big Smoke
and South Wales crowding the platform.
I'm meeting General Manager of this heritage railway, Paul Conibeare.
Paul, hello. Michael, welcome to Minehead.
It's a vast station with these great, long platforms.
That emphasises how important it was in its heyday.
Yes, it was a very busy Great Western terminus,
and it's very long to cope with the visitors it anticipated on the day.
It is the terminus. I can see hills ahead -
presumably the Porlocks are what prevented it from going further.
There were plans to go to Porlock and Lynmouth, but Sir George Newnes,
who was involved in the Lynton-Barnstaple railway
didn't want the riff-raff in their part of the world.
The riff-raff from Minehead? Yes.
I notice, on your trains, that you have the engine on the front.
That must imply that you have some way of turning them around?
Luckily, we've invested in a new turntable, which was fitted in 2008,
to provide the ability for the first time since the early '60s
to turn the locomotives so they face the right direction
for the cameras and the visitors to the railway!
The turning-around of extremely heavy locomotives was a problem
that confronted rail companies until the dawn of the diesel era.
At Minehead, they had to be turned in a locomotive shed
some distance from the tracks -
a slow process, which ate into the efficiency of the line.
The shed was demolished in the 1960s.
This new turntable - a Victorian original for the most part -
was purchased in 1974, but due to lack of funding and space,
it wasn't put in place until 2008.
We now have a locomotive weighing 110 tonnes,
which our driver, David, will show you how to turn.
I'll just use my little finger. Hello, David. Reporting for duty, sir.
We're just going to push it, are we? Just push it. OK, here goes.
HE GROANS
She's moving. I can't believe it.
Don't know about you, David, but I'm putting quite a lot of...
effort into this. I have weight on my side!
And now...that it's...in motion...
it gets a little bit...easier, because...
it...has...momentum.
Somebody tells me that stopping this thing
is even harder than getting it going. I'll do the stopping. OK.
We're arriving...at our end point...
I'm ceasing to push, cos it's moving on its own momentum
and you're now braking it.
And, ohhh...
Overshot a tiny bit.
Just easing it back.
You're learning to do that pretty well.
Ah...
Next time, I'll do it alone.
APPLAUSE What can I say?
Thanks to the likes of George Newnes,
a key player in establishing the twin resorts of Lynton and Lynmouth,
the rail link was never built.
So I can go no further by train.
Instead, I'll cross the impenetrable Porlock Hill by road
to reach the next notable attraction mentioned in my guide.
Bradshaw says that tourists "should proceed to the far-famed
"valley of the rocks on foot, along the cliff wall,
"whence the scenery is very fine.
"The view in the valley is exceedingly grand.
"He should employ a guide to accompany him on his first visit,"
and mine is called Terry.
Hello. Hello, Michael. What gave rise to these formations of rock?
One time, the river ran through here, carving out this valley,
then the river diverted to its present course running into Lynmouth.
The crags you can see here
were mainly caused by the weathering action
over thousands of years, leaving complicated and intriguing shapes.
Beautiful view. It does take your breath away.
At this point, we're about 500ft above sea level.
Whoa, it's a long way down. Yes.
So, who created this path? It was one of the hotel owners.
He wanted it for his tourists. He wanted a romantic walk,
something that was sensational.
It must've attracted painters and writers over the years.
It did. Some of the early visitors were Keats and Shelley.
They went home and romanced about this place
and they nicknamed it "Little Switzerland".
At one point, it was said it was the grandest walk in England.
I've had a wonderful journey from Taunton,
enjoying travel, Victorian-style, by steam train.
I've filled my lungs with smoke and my eyes with smuts.
What better place to blow them away, than here on the Devon cliffs
where the romantic poets drew inspiration -
one of the finest views in England.
On my next journey, I get up close with a piece of natural history...
It's a moa egg, it's an extinct bird from New Zealand.
There's only 36 specimens of a decent size been catalogued in the world.
I visit a garden used as a viewing platform for public hangings...
We've got three tiers going up,
and according to the records, they were full.
It was shoulder-to-shoulder, line-to-line of people.
..and encounter a timepiece like no other.
In my political career, Peter, I met a few two-faced liars,
but this is my first experience of a four-faced liar.
One of them's correct, though! THEY LAUGH
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