Random Route - Southern Transit 3

Yes, I've actually revived this series, because there's no better way to write about a running day so heavily focused on one particular bus service. We'll be returning to the London bus changes after this, but writing about them can become pretty monotonous, even if they are much faster to publish than these random route reviews. I also realise that this has little relevance to the capital, but it could perhaps motivate you to explore outside the M25. Trust me, it's better.

I didn't plan on producing any photographs, but this ad hoc halt at Partridge Green was too convenient to miss.

Courtesy of Southern Transit, who kindly organise a classic buses running day twice a year, I ended up spending the scorching Bank Holiday Monday roaming around West Sussex, leaving it to chance that other dedicated enthusiasts would capture the rare carnival related workings. The heritage vehicles operate on their number 3 service, which is an entirely commercial venture. It runs between Horsham Station and the Holmbush Shopping Centre in Shoreham, conveniently connecting the Sussex villages with a market town to North and even the sea, given how close Shoreham beach is to its high street. The destinations en route used to be served by a railway line, but now riding the number 3 is the closest you get to recreating what could've been a very relaxing train ride. Buses used to operate on Thursdays and Saturdays, but the regular weekend trips were discontinued earlier in the year, because running a bus route with no support isn't easy. Classic buses are provided on the Spring and Summer bank holidays, attracting bus enthusiasts from all over the South as well as residents, who I understand are extremely grateful that they've been given additional opportunities to venture further afield, especially if lacking a car. The 3 is also incredibly scenic, so completing four end-to-end trips wasn't tiresome at all. Routemasters tend to appear at almost every heritage bus event, which is completely understandable, but I decided to focus on the more exotic Leyland Atlanteans and Volvo Olympian, with the quieter evening open-top bus rides being particularly thrilling. It's a fabulous day out regardless of the vehicle though and if you still aren't convinced, here's an attempt to describe my first journey in writing.

I completely forgot to ride this open top Atlantean by unintentionally end-to-ending a trip that was supposed to last five minutes. Next time!

Horsham Station is beautifully well-kept, but the forecourt outside doesn't have too much going for it, sporting only a Premier Inn and the roundabout which buses use to turn around. Our well-loaded Atlantean was on the move quickly though, coasting down the fairly significant B-road that leads to Horsham Town Centre, surrounded mostly by trees and some brand new apartments. Buses towards Shoreham skirt around the main shopping district along a ring road, but a Northbound journey is much more interesting as the driver must skilfully navigates the cobbled, narrow streets that showcase typical high street retailers and restaurant chains. After several roundabouts, the vehicle undertook an unexpected double run up a seemingly residential street, which randomly had a bus station placed at the end. It's pretty low-key and was almost unnervingly quiet throughout the Monday, with the Southern Transit standby Citymaster comfortably occupying the highest-numbered bay until the evening. A brief pause was necessary here, since the spare vehicle contained some of the paperwork for our Atlantean, though this was explained very professionally by our conductor. I found this break pretty convenient for devising a last-minute plan and it wasn't long until the immaculate Citymaster appeared and we were on the move again.

Our departure from Horsham mostly consisted of speeding down a main road, complete with some very admirable homes tucked away by dense vegetation, which really was quite intrusive on the open topper! Shortly afterwards we crossed a modest two-track railway, used by Southern services between London Victoria and the South Coast, with this bridge almost acting as a boundary between suburbia and woodland, as the surroundings suddenly became reminiscent of the forest in The Blair Witch Project. An occasional isolated household or golf course provided some balance, until we were faced with two more roundabouts that marked the start of our journey into Southwater. This settlement is also served by some regular Metrobus services and is a mixture of green space and detached homes, with the appearance of a Hen & Chicken public house randomly prompting a load of speed humps. Our background also became much more residential, with the first customers since Horsham joining us at the caravan park, apparently catching this exact journey every running day. Southwater felt quite unique because the village extends significantly further than the main road, with traffic running through all the time, so the sporadic filling stations and shops make it feel far less isolated.

The Atlantean continued Southward bound at The Lintot pub, which was consistently busy all day. I even managed to glimpse a parade of shops behind the landmark, causing Southwater to feel like a town in its own right, further reinforced by the outcasts slightly further down, in the form of a kebab shop and Londis convenience store. After an uneventful few minutes, it was time to join a dual carriageway, with thick vegetation acting as a dividing strip between the Northbound and Southbound traffic. Enthusiasts who enjoy thrash more than anything would've been pretty satisfied with our Atlantean, despite the road twisting and turning a few times, but this animated section was over quickly, as it wouldn't be particularly convenient for passengers to catch the bus in the middle of a ditch.

Generally associating McDonald's with urban areas, I was surprised that our left turn simply involved traversing through more farmland, but we also picked up some considerable speed here. After a series of low trees, we entered the much more modest village of West Grinstead, also boasting very presentable retail outlets. My geography of the UK can be pretty rusty, but I was quite surprised to see this name when East Grinstead, served by Southern services from London, is on the other side of Crawley. Perhaps the two places are completely unrelated. From what I can gather, the number 3 is West Grinstead's most frequent bus service - us Londoners would be outraged with a mere four return trips a week!

North Littleworth had nothing more than a garden centre, but at this point mother nature started to become extremely pretty, especially from the unbeatable front seats upstairs. The Windmill Inn was randomly popular with enthusiasts, though I was perfectly satisfied with my Tesco meal deal obtained later on at the Holmbush Centre. A surprising right turn led to more beautiful British countryside, supplemented by some homes which weren't so tucked away, making this hamlet seem far more inviting. I later found out that our deviation was to serve Partridge Green, so comparatively substantial that a regular number 17 bus runs here, offering links to Horsham and Brighton. Our bus was particularly well-used along this stretch of road, where housing felt as dense as some outer London suburbs. Thanks to the astounding knowledge of fellow enthusiasts and the kindness of our driver, we paused here briefly for some photos, with the sun positioned perfectly too. The recreational football cages felt almost abandoned at 10am, as younger residents clearly took advantage of the bank holiday to catch up on their beauty sleep. I don't blame them, getting up at 5:30am wasn't particularly enjoyable.

When you jump on the bandwagon a little too late... it's a good job the driver waited for me!

Between Partridge Green and Shermanbury the country road began to bend very regularly, whilst every front garden seemed to appear just a little larger than the previous one. The unforeseen crossing over the River Adur was over too quickly for my liking, as the bus hurtled past the pizza pub without stopping, our environment becoming more remote by the second. Eventually we were graced with some signs of life, as our bus paused several times in the bustling village of Henfield, quintessentially rural but also offering a wider mix of housing, with some terraces making a change from the detached accommodation. Every independent shop was thriving and well-presented; even the Budgens seemed incredibly upmarket. The dozen or so newly joined passengers complemented the already friendly atmosphere, being very impressed with our Atlantean and our non-stop run to the next destination, with deciduous woodland only broken by some incongruous industrial units. Our path through Small Dole was allegedly shut off, but the road sign clearly hadn't been removed punctually as we managed to pass through with no trouble at all. This particular village bears similarities to Southwater, since a main road passes all the way through, but here the array of dainty houses are almost entirely concentrated on this carriageway, rather than encroaching into the countryside. Following a lively descent, we were graced with a stunningly imposing view of some distant mountain, before being thanked for driving carefully, regardless of whether we achieved 10 or 100mph. For me, this really was the point where the beauty of the surroundings increased exponentially, with panoramic landscapes only occasionally revealing themselves, so us passengers treasured them even more. The abundance of thatched houses added to the quaintness of each village we passed through, but I couldn't help feeling we were cheated out of properly exploring Upper Beeding, given the bus merely skirted around the outside.

Bramber neighbours Upper Beeding and is definitely the most attractive settlement, with so many different materials showcasing themselves on the homes of this narrow street. The bridge over the Adur is perfectly placed; I can recall the whole bus craning their necks slightly to the left as the meandering river weaves its way through the hilly Sussex countryside. Our difficulty in navigating the narrow road was actually appreciated, allowing us passengers to savour this gem of a village just a little more. A fair few alighted to investigate the ruins of Bramber Castle, its presence being only slightly revealing from the bus route, but the majority continued through to Shoreham. Initially, I found our right turn onto a dual carriageway slightly perplexing, but after a few minutes of viewing more woodland and randomly placed elevated walkways, we entered the historic town of Steyning. The approach felt slightly odd, since the leisure centre can be found at quite a distance away from the main hubbub, but the high street was much more extensive than I first anticipated. It has been crafted very similarly to Bramber, though the art galleries and mixture of independent and familiar stores means I'd much rather spend time in Steyning. This was another popular destination, but not many people joined in the outskirts, where country house conversions are juxtaposed by single bungalows almost entirely surrounded by green space. According to the sign on this incredibly straight stretch of road we were entering Bramber again, but these lengthy diversions are acceptable on routes with such a normally hyper-local user base.

It became quite clear that we were approaching Shoreham-By-Sea as we met the river Adur once again, noticeably wider than our first encounter in West Grinstead, with its path downstream being adjacent to the by-pass. The display of multi-coloured terraced housing felt slightly absurd in the middle of nowhere, whilst enthusiasts in the know started to turn their heads as the atmosphere became slightly industrial, since this is where the Southern Transit garage can be found. I spotted several inns immediately after a low-key spaghetti junction, this marking our entrance into the much-awaited Shoreham. The first two minutes were surprisingly residential, but the sight of a Southern Class 377 trundling across the bridge provided some balance. With a thriving high street, harbour, riverside and beach, I was amazed at the attractiveness of this seaside town. It's absolutely worth exploring.

After a stop-off at the park, our path through an assemblage of tenements felt ever so slightly intrusive, whilst the uniformly white homes disguised the purpose of this strange detour. In fact, the railway station is situated immediately behind them, with our trip over the level crossing displaying a very busy platform. The mandatory accompanying down-to-earth shopping parade was over quickly, giving way to a grassed avenue and very elegant semis, but I couldn't help feeling apprehensive after we passed another park, a hundred more houses and a hospital. If it's the seaside you're after, it's best to abandon ship early, or take a local number 2 bus from the terminus back to the town centre (if you get a discovery the ticket will still be valid on this service).

Only a few people stuck it out until the Holmbush Centre, but there's no better place for a quick break, since it boasts a massive Tesco Extra, decent facilities, McDonald's (if you like) and many more eateries. Wandering around the aisles, I was able to reflect on my delightful journey and the exciting prospect of undertaking so many more. If my writing hasn't convinced you to take a ride, a YouTube video is probably more enticing anyway, but that isn't my style.

I'd like to thank Southern Transit for a fabulous day out, the drivers and conductors for being wonderful as ever, fellow enthusiasts for the art of conversation and handy recommendations, but most of all you readers, for actually sticking this post out until the end. It took forever to write and is probably wishy-washy at times, but I enjoyed it and that's what writing this blog is all about. To the running days!