It’s always sad when a small piece of history disappears, especially when its passing is generally unlamented and perhaps even largely ignored.  So it has been with one of our most gently unique tourist attractions – the narrow-gauge railway train.

A little bit of research into narrow-gauge railways turned up some fascinating facts, and after a few perusals of lovingly-written descriptions of locomotives and coaches it becomes quite easy to understand how people become fanatical about railway trains, and especially narrow-gauge trains.

The first railways built were usually narrow-gauge.  It was an economical size for tracks, trains, locos, coaches, bridges and tunnels.  A thinner track could also handle sharper turns and negotiate more difficult terrain.

But it didn’t take long for railway engineers to discover that small tracks also meant a more unstable train and a smaller capacity for freight.  So in the hey-day of the Industrial Revolution there was a move towards a bigger track.  Narrow-gauge railways were continued for small, specific purposes such as hauling goods between their point of origin – say, the orchard or the mine – and the harbour where they would be exported.  Other uses were in mountainous areas where sharp bends are necessary, and in places where a railway needs to be built speedily and cheaply.  Many narrow-gauge railways in Europe were built specifically to move troops and munitions through rugged terrain during wartime.  It goes without saying that narrow-gauge trains usually chugged along scenic tracks.

Countries colonised by Britain in particular also started their industrial lives with the cheaper narrow-gauge tracks, as shipping materials out of Europe to build railways was very expensive.  

It was about this time that the history of railways veered off on an interesting little detour.  The decision by governments whether to build the cheaper but limited-capacity narrow-gauge as opposed to the more expensive but larger standard gauge was determined purely by affordability.  

Some countries, like the Scandinavian countries, decided to build large rails from the start, whether they thought they needed them or not.  Other countries built some narrow and some standard according to perceived need.  As rail traffic picked up the narrow gauge was replaced by the larger size.  In the former colonies, the richer ones like the US and Australia replaced most of their small tracks while the poorer ones like India never built new railways.  South Africa, being a rich country, replaced most of the narrow tracks but kept a few – almost all of which had been built for a specific purposes and then converted into a tourist attraction.

Which is why we had the Apple Express and the Banana Express.  The Apple Express was built in 1903 to carry apples from the orchards of the Langkloof to the harbour of Port Elizabeth.  The Banana Express, likewise, conveyed bananas from Paddock inland to the small harbour of Port Shepstone.  The Outeniqua Choo-tjoe, completed in 1928, had to be narrow gauge because of the many twists and turns along its coastal route.  There’s also a short narrow-gauge railway between Carisbrooke and Ixopo, which has been immortalised in the opening chapter of the book Cry the Beloved Country.  These trains ran as tourist attractions for many years after their commercial usefulness ran out.

The Van Staden’s River bridge, crossed by the Apple Express, is the highest narrow-gauge railway bridge in the world.  Our little-engines-that-could usually run through some of the most beautiful countryside.  This is why successive tourist ministers have enthused about the potential for scenic railway tourism in South Africa.

Isn’t it sad, then, that all these charming little choo-choos can only now be found in books and photographs?  Transnet killed off every one with the insistence that tourism ‘is not our core business’.  Even though there were many train trackers more than willing to take over, the large parastatal scrapped the locos and carriages and ripped up the track.

I know that the story of the demise of our toy railways is more complicated than that, but I also know that in all cases Transnet hammered the final nail in the coffin of struggling little railway businesses.  

Perhaps the closure of our Puffing Billies was inevitable.  Railway journeys, after all, are mainly for children, and children nowadays are too sophisticated and impatient for the slow pace of a chuffing train.  That captivating series of smells and snorts and stops and starts does not hold the same magic in this internet age.

Whatever the cause, and whatever the reason, it is still sad to reflect that our little railways are dying out.  Port Elizabeth Tourism’s decision to try to save the Apple Express might be too little, too late.  Perhaps our scenic railways need more than just a train trip with a picnic at the end, perhaps we need to inject some pizzazz into our train trips.  We need someone with the vision of a Richard Branson to fix things.  

Please, can South Africa’s visionary step up to the plate?