The Last Journey

The last “in service” journey performed by a tram in Liverpool was made by ‘Baby Grand Streamliner’ Number 293, travelling from the Pier Head to Bowring Park and from there back to the depot on Edge Lane. At seven years old I suppose I can say that I was unaware of the historical, even cultural significance of the event, but was nonetheless impressed to see the specially spruced up behemoth thunder past the Gardener’s Arms towards The Rocket. At the time I would not have known that the Rocket was named in honour of George Stevenson’s winning entry for the Steam Train Trials at Rainhill in 1829: nor would I have appreciated the irony of the fact that the end of an era of railed transport effectively took place very close to the place in which the earliest journeys were made.

But when is a last journey not a last journey? This is where the definition of the term becomes blurred.

For example: 45 of the trams used in the final years of operations in Liverpool were sold to Glasgow, where they continued to serve the public until at least 1960.

Some (Number 293 amongst them) were ‘rescued’ by groups of enthusiasts and restored. Most of these can now be seen in a number of locations where transport and transport-related memorabilia are displayed in museums.

A significant number ended up in other countries. The dollar being a major currency, it is hardly surprising that many are now to be found in the USA. Apocryphal stories abound, of course, but there is a stubborn rumour which refuses to go away which claims that some of these vehicles – built as long ago as 1930 – are still in daily use on busy commuter routes.

There is another story told from time to time, which states that Liverpool Council and the Merseyside Passenger Transport Executive [MPTE] were not convinced that the tram system might not be resurrected by a future administration. Therefore, goes the argument, on certain routes (Prescot Road and Edge Lane are often cited) the tracks were not removed from the carriageway where they ran down the centre of the road: they were simply buried beneath a fresh layer of tarmac. Curiously, in what might conceivably lend some “verisimilitude to an otherwise bald and unconvincing narrative” I can remember seeing the remnants of tramtracks along the centre of East Prescot Road, opposite the main entrance to Springfield Park and the (disused) Knotty Ash train station. However, considering the time which has elapsed since then, it would have to have been a non pareil masterpiece of civil engineering to withstand the stresses of the year-on-year increase in volume of traffic for almost fifty years without requiring constant maintenance.

With the unerring pinpoint accuracy of twenty-twenty hindsight, we can all now say with confidence that the existence of a ready-laid track would have made a significant difference to the economics of re-introducing a tram network in Liverpool. The recent failed attempt to do this would quite possibly have been ‘nodded through’ almost as a formality. Perhaps a certain £170 million of ‘lost’ funding from Westminster (and considerably more from Brussels) would still be available to use on another, equally worthy cause? If the latest twist in the saga can be believed, Liverpool must now stand “cap in hand, face turned to the wall” and compete with every other wannabee council in the North of England for a chance of receiving a portion of the above sum to develop their proposed transport schemes.

There is one more consideration which gives serious cause for concern to sceptics such as myself, which may be summarised as follows. With the present administration’s lamentable record in supporting or promoting any sporting, cultural or other projects north of the Watford Gap, I will not be too surprised if the funding ends up being ‘re-allocated’ – read, “stolen” – to pay for the London-centric Olympic Games in 2012. Time will prove me right or wrong, but please: don’t try to hold your breath!