TRAINS, STATIONS AND SIDINGS

 December. School holidays. Builders’ holidays. Public and religious holidays. 

Families have been preparing for this season for weeks and have been looking forward to the annual season for relaxation and family “get-aways”. Those living and working in the inland provinces are poised to swop with the coastal provinces, and one of the most popular modes of transport in the mid-twentieth century was the South African Railways (SAR) – sleeper trains. Splendid summer weather, albeit a trifle hot, is practically guaranteed throughout the country during December and January. For the most part, the oppressive African summer heat (and humidity) descends in February and March, so the holiday season in December is ideal for vacationing. The sleeper trains between the Transvaal/Orange Free State and Natal/Cape are fully booked for weeks in anticipation of the “Christmas Rush”.

The Trans-Karoo runs daily between Johannesburg and Cape Town – one in each direction, crossing paths during the dead of night as they wind their way along the 3 foot 6 inch narrow gauge tracks that have served this mountainous country well since the mid-nineteenth century. Narrow gauge was ostensibly chosen in preference to much of the rest of the world’s 4 foot 8 and a half inch gauge, because of the many mountain passes that had to be traversed in southern Africa and this narrow rail track was deemed eminently suitable for the task. 

On the platforms of Park Station in Johannesburg, families made their way through the concourse, Pierneef’s paintings that adorned the cavernous public area peering down from a dizzy height. They would cheerfully make their way down to platforms 14 and 15 from which the Trans-Karoo departed (alternately) each weekday. Steps led to the platforms below, and escalators hoisted arriving passengers to the concourse. On the platforms, porters assisted by loading the luggage of several families onto their huge trolleys, whilst dads popped along to the noticeboards to read from the typed lists to match the coupes /compartments with carriage numbers and family surnames. All very well organised, the compartments labelled A to K on each carriage, were duly marked and the names of each family posted on typed strips inserted into clips on the outside of the train. Carriages alternated – the passage crisscrossing along the length of the train. If a family was fortunate enough to be assigned a carriage in which the passage was on the opposite side, the luggage could simply be popped through the window into the coupe or compartment, without having to lug cases across a passage and through the sliding door of the sleeping quarters. The porters vied for the generous tips dispensed by passengers in the “holiday mood.”

As carriage design improved between the mid-1900s and the late ‘70s, both first and second class carriages offered a shared toilet and shower at either end of the coach. Between coaches a dodgy-looking linkage and plastic weather cover allowed passengers to make their way along the passages to the dining car/lounge area. When the train picked up speed, this could be a daunting exercise as passengers could see the sleepers, ballast and farmland flit by, the carriages rocking violently in counter-directional regularity, making it a challenge to maintain one’s footing on the speeding chunk of metal.

In the compartments a washbasin with both hot and cold faucets was provided. A table folded over the basin for the convenience of passengers. Next to the basin was a steam radiator providing ample heating in the winter, but not performing any function at this time of the year when the railways didn’t even bother to connect the steam generator wagons between the steam engines/electric units and the passenger carriages. No need for that in the African summer. 

The South African Railways at the time, to their credit, maintained clean, neat and efficient transport over vast distances. Arrival and departure, for the most part, was precisely on time. Major delays were largely avoided because the rail staff from station masters to signalers, drivers and conductors took pride in their work. The tone was set by the train conductors elegantly attired in natty uniforms and peak hats – starched and ironed trousers, shiny buttons and rank braids proudly displayed. Their stainless steel clippers would punch definite and authoritative holes in the cardboard tickets to dissuade chancers who might consider boarding without having paid the requisite (though not excessively expensive) fare.

The carriages of the time sported windows that opened fully by sliding into the belly of the outer bodywork. Necessary in the heat of summer in South Africa in the days before air conditioning became ubiquitous. Also to provide a clear view of the glorious vistas along the route: the grasslands of the Transvaal, the cornfields (mieliefields) of the Orange Free State, the arid Karoo with its delightful range of succulents, thorn bushes, “Koppies” (little hills) and hillocks and the lush Winelands of the Western Cape. 

Station Masters took pride in their stations (and sidings). There was keen competition between stations to beautify and lay out the most delightful gardens. These Station Masters were generally highly regarded members of their communities. At the stations they ran a tight ship, overseeing the signalers with a particularly sharp eye as the kingpins of commuter safety along the thousand mile (1600km) journey across the country. South Africa’s rail network crisscrossed the country and by 2017 covered a distance of about 21 000 km. The Station Master was provided with official accommodation in a large red brick railway house and his staff from signalers to porters occupied smaller (also red brick) but neat and sturdy houses.

The overnight part of the journey was also splendid. The Trans-Karoo usually pulled into Kimberley station around 2 o’clock in the morning. Passengers would alight and others join the train journey to Cape Town. In fact, a whole new, noisy night life took hold of a usually quiet station precinct. Bedding bales would be unloaded and sent to the laundry. Ingredients were stocked up in the caboose kitchen. Drivers would change shifts. And, by the time the conductor’s shrill whistle presaged the imminent departure of the train, most passengers, with the exception of the most comatose sleepers, were wide awake. De Aar was another memorable stop during the early morning hours. As the train made its way past the shunting yards into the station, rail workers would tap the steel wheels to detect the flat sound that would expose a crack in that vital component. Should such a problem be detected, the wheel would deftly be replaced and the lost time made up further along the journey. More hustle and bustle and then all would proceed to the next Karoo station. Almost without exception, the smaller stations were quaint and beautiful, coming to life as the new day dawned. Beaufort West, Laingsburg, Matjiesfontein, Touws River woke with the passing through of the Trans Karoo. Memorable was the rather sad, extensive steam engine graveyard at Touws River, as the transition was gradually made from steam to diesel and electric units. Passengers looking out over the rows upon rows of rusting engineering masterpieces that had reached the end of their span, would be reminded that their journey was but a closing chapter of steam locomotives. The doleful chugging of the engines would give way to advancing technology rapidly closing in.

The Western Cape’s Du Toit’s Kloof Pass would fling open the mountainous curtain hiding the lush vegetation of the Paarl Valley. Table Mountain would soon appear in the distance to announce the arrival of the destination, the beautiful city of Cape Town. The care and efficiency with which the rail staff treated their beloved trains, locomotives, rolling stock and infrastructure generally, ensured the safety of passengers. Thanks to them all would step onto Cape Town Platform 18 having reached their destination before they met their destiny. 

Train drivers of that generation are understandably nostalgic about the era of affordable, quality train journeys they did so much to provide. Theirs was the age in which the dining saloons served multiple courses on real crockery and set exquisite cutlery according to the demands of fine etiquette. The rush of modernity replaced this beauty with polystyrene dishes,  plastic cutlery and mugs.

Fine dining, gracious passenger care and smart uniforms have become the preserve of the ultra-expensive luxury market. The ordinary fellow is no longer allowed the taste of fine “class” afforded by such devoted professionalism as once there was. Modernity has brought – world-wide – a throw-away, fast paced, fast-food society. Haste has displaced “the touch of class.” 

©Paul M Haupt