Trifter

The classic Routemaster! Wearing heritage London Transport livery with gold fleetnames and sporting traditional white on black index plates, Stagecoach London’s RM2760 brightens up a June morning in Minories in 2000 while working the 15 to Marble Arch. It’s just a shame nobody considered completing the image by replacing those awful day-glow route blinds with proper retro style route information. (Photo author)

Stepping out of Charing Cross Station during a visit to London in the late 1990’s with my youngest daughter, on spotting the line of Routemaster buses crawling along Strand I enthusiastically exclaimed ‘look, real buses!’.

Having dismissed the rolling eyes, curled lip and expressions of concern at my sanity, I went on to explain just what was meant by my outburst.

‘They have drivers sat in a cab next to the engine and a conductor working at the back, where you can jump on and off.’

In short, the point I was trying to make was that the vehicles we were seeing had nothing in common with the usual offerings we were familiar with on routes near to our home. Not being particularly interested in outdated modes of bus operation, my daughter obviously couldn’t quite understand my enthusiastic discourse and if the truth were known, neither could I.

The Routemaster, for much of its normal service life never quite ‘did it’ for me. Such an attitude was not something I could ever put my finger on. It never raised the interest which other like-minded enthusiasts of my generation found within themselves, nor ever stirred strong emotions of nostalgia and wonderment like other less familiar bus types have over the years.

I have tried – really. As an enthusiast of 1950s and ‘60s public transport, what has been hailed as the classic bus of the Twentieth Century (according to a poll of Classic Bus magazine readers in 2000) should have turned my head and raised the spirit somewhat. Unfortunately, for many years it failed to do so to the same extent as some other marques and conversely I dare say I can’t really understand why those same other marques don’t ‘turn on’ the Routemaster enthusiasts as much as myself when I see them. Each to their own I suppose. As stated in the introduction, I don’t mean to offend. In fact I wish someone would try to ‘convert’ me of the opinion, as I would them to my own particular likings , but nobody has ever tried. Admittedly, there has been a softening of my attitude towards the Routemaster in recent years, but this is simply a nostalgia borne reaction to its withdrawal from normal revenue earning service in London.

The Routemaster in its later years of service sported various livery variations depending on the operating company and route. The First Groups 23 service RMs carried simple route branding information as seen here at Liverpool Street Station in 2001. (Photo – author)

I have read the occasional debate in the enthusiast press and I presume there are those out there who must share my doubts but nobody with a passion for the Routemaster has ever successfully persuaded me that I should be more dewy eyed about it. Don’t get me wrong – I would never wish it any harm and I was just as miffed as the next classic bus lover when the plans for its final withdrawal came to fruition. But try as I might, I just never found it as appealing as many would probably have me think.

To put things into perspective, it is probably sensible to separate those who enthuse about the Routemaster from the Routemaster’s enthusiasts. The two are quite different beings and I would classify myself to be among the first group – and definitely not the second. When the Routemaster was being withdrawn in London a strong and vociferous press campaign brought events to the attention of a loyal public and the passion for its retention was obvious, despite the green, access for all brigade’s argument that it should go.

Probably for the first time since the days of tramway abandonment, a strong public voice was raised to campaign for a transport mode to stay. Theirs was one of enthusiasm whose campaign was meted out ardently – a cause for concern at the loss of a much loved aspect of London life and for the keeping of a London tradition and a mode of transport which had served them well for over half a century.

These were the people who enthused about the Routemaster, more for its heritage, its habits and foibles than its numbering sequence, dates of service or what it was under the bonnet that made it go. All that was for the real enthusiast – the keeper of numbers and watcher of route and garage changes, the logger of livery variations and the weekend engineer with membership of a preservation club.

In all probability the public pressure groups and, to a large extent, the press reporters who campaigned for a stay of execution were hoping they might simply be saving an old kind of bus – the type with its driver in his glass cab and his mate ringing bells and collecting fares, often with a cheeky jibe or two, at the back. They weren’t really calling on the powers that be to think about retaining a 67 seat, 11 litre diesel powered psv with Park Royal built monocoque type bodywork. If the Routemaster had been a Leyland PD or Bristol FD, it would most likely have received the same sort of loyalty and affection. It was simply the right bus in the right place at the wrong time.

In this respect, because the Routemaster had been on the road for so many years longer than its contemporaries, and because of the publicity it received when retirement finally loomed, it almost became the norm to call any vehicle which was red, had an engine and lone driver at the front and carried over 60 passengers, a ‘Routemaster’. The name became a generic term for any older style of bus with an open rear platform. Such an epithet is akin to calling any small four seater box-like car a ‘Mini’, or every 1940s single seat fighter plane a ‘Spitfire’! The Routemaster title of course refers to a particular model, not a generic type.

To illustrate the point to perfection, last Christmas I received an interesting book as a gift – England, One Thousand Things You Should Know. In it is a section on the Routemaster. The author, Nicholas Hobbes, states quite categorically that Cliff Richard drove a Routemaster in the film Summer Holiday. Now, any bus enthusiast worth their salt will tell you that it was actually an earlier RT type of London bus that starred in the film and the Routemaster was hardly featured. This is an excellent example of the notion that any old red London bus has now become a ‘Routemaster’. (It also sort of throws some doubt over the credibility of all the other facets of English life and history depicted in the book and makes one wonder what other howling mistakes are made in the subject areas of which one doesn’t have a particular specialist knowledge!)

For one who admires and enthuses over ‘old’ buses then, the Routemaster fits the bill. For one who never did take that much of an interest in London’s transport however, the Routemaster was just another standardised vehicle serving the distant Capital to destinations with anonymous, meaningless names – Finchley, Streatham, Hanwell, Blackheath. And that, I believe is – or was – the rub. London!

In my formative years, when an interest in public transport was starting to be taken seriously, London was always far away – a distant city with strange bus operating practices that weren’t considered the ‘norm’. For one who grew up in the industrial North Midlands, the ‘norm’ was big, heavy (usually Leyland) buses earning their crust carrying hoards of miners and foundry workers on routes which traversed long, steep hills and which went through grimy industrial landscapes.

Now they were ‘real’ buses! Hard working, powerful and smart (and often not all over red!). They weren’t ‘standardised’ or purpose built. They were bought ‘off the peg’ and, rather like bread rolls, they came in small batches of a dozen or so, each different in some way to the last batch. They were interesting for all kinds of reasons. They had character, determination and purpose. They became familiar through countless journeys to ‘town’ and back. They were my friends, confidants. They were comforting and reliable. They were handsome and appealing. They spawned a lifelong enthusiasm for a way of life long gone and a love of psv engineering and operating practice which to this day manifests itself in my opinion of what constitutes proper bus operation. The buses they had in far away London therefore didn’t, for the 1960s and 70s teenage enthusiast in Derbyshire at least, fill the criteria for being ‘normal’.

(In London they didn’t even have what might be considered ‘proper’ tickets either – merely blank rolls of flimsy white cartridge paper which were printed in purple ink from a funny machine invented by a former watchmaker and works supervisor called Mr. Gibson. They resembled something you get with your tea bags and broccoli in ASDA – not very interesting to someone used to collecting varieties of different coloured Bell Punch Co. and Setright tickets, issued from pre-printed rolls to make an attractive display in the scrap book – and which didn’t fade after a few months rolled up in the school blazer pocket either!)

Not quite what it seems! Working Stagecoach’s 15 route, this reconditioned red RM was originally a Greenline coach type used on longer distance routes. The twin headlamps give the game away. Tower Hill, May 2000. (Photo- author)

It is often conceded (even once by Douglas Scott, its own designer) that the Routemaster’s front bonnet and radiator treatment is not an attractive facade. Okay, it wasn’t planned that way – Scott’s original design on prototype bus RM1 in 1954 was, it could be argued, significantly more handsome and ‘businesslike’ than that which ended up on the later production models. The problem apparently was poor braking performance due to overheating after a few miles of service so Douglas Scott’s friendly, forward looking masterpiece suffered a couple of metamorphoses and gained an ugly radiator grille to become the recognisable, highly reliable maybe, but nonetheless downcast looking bus we are familiar with today.

Like London’s other famous bus type the RT, most buses of the period usually had proud, upright, handsome features, often borne out of a shining, chrome edged radiator grille, behind which up to 11 litres of snarling diesel power provided a reassuring sense of purpose, reliability and well being. The buses I was familiar with were steadfast, solid beasts who welcomed you into their warm, leather-bound interior to be ferried across the dales and around the colliery yards with a stately and unhurried progress. This was the ‘norm’ – the comfort zone.

The contemptible opinion I developed for London’s transport in general also probably came out of a shunning of anything that was so ‘in your face’ red, or so overtly standardised. This enthusiast didn’t do standardisation. Part of the appeal of studying transport operation is that of turning up something that isn’t the norm – something that bucks the trend or is out of the ordinary. It’s that which makes our passion so interesting after all. In an equivalent ornithological context, a bird watcher might sit in Trafalgar Square looking at the activities of the feral pigeons and, for five minutes they may create an interesting spectacle but soon the interest would diminish in the hope that catching sight of something rare, more exciting or, just different, would be raised. And it is, or was, the same in my opinion as far as large numbers of standardised buses are concerned.

However, just like our imaginary ornithologist I suppose, I would never wish to see any harm come to the gaggles of buses that also gathered around Trafalgar Square. Just that something else more interesting might happen along occasionally.

Compared with the heavier buses operating near my childhood home therefore, the Routemaster was always considered to be somewhat…well…boring. Therefore, when one is attracted to buses growling their way with powerful roars, often being blessed with handsome features and big upright radiators, the Routemaster never quite fitted the bill. If my huge Leyland, Daimler and yes, even AEC, chums were akin to favourite great uncles then the Routemaster may have been the petulant cousin – someone you might be pleased to see every so often but who, after a few minutes in their company, would become slightly tedious and a bit of a nuisance.

It is because of these opinions that, until quite recently, whenever transport events or rallies were being attended, if a Routemaster turned up, it wasn’t photographed. It didn’t ‘turn me on’ and would be shunned – unless it happened not to be in LT red. It was once possible to see green Routemasters as well, somewhere beyond Hatfield or Esher and a Routemaster wearing colours other than Central area red does begin to appeal more. It suddenly takes on slightly more character and appears a little more, well…interesting. It’s not the ‘norm’ of course, is it, and is why many of the illustrations you will see in this book feature Routemasters which aren’t in their original service guise.

Hopefully they will provide a contrasting selection of photographs to illustrate some of my encounters with this iconic vehicle from the metropolis and help to bring to life the journeys made and even some of the people encountered along the way.

London Eye-con! Ok, so The Routemaster was a classic and this profile shows why. Westminster Bridge, August 2001. (Photo – author)

For further Routemaster related articles see links below:-

http://www.trifter.com/Europe/United-Kingdom/The-Routemaster-Bus-Why-All-the-Fuss-Introduction.443691

http://www.quazen.com/Recreation/Autos/The-Routemaster-Bus-Part-Three-Why-All-the-Fuss-Routemasters-Up-North.462541