We have taken our only two car trips here because our hosts live where there are no buses and even the buses that come near don't run on Sunday. We caught a D&G bus to Nantwich. The driver said this stands for David and Gerald but we don't believe him.
It was a private taxi to Wrenbury where we were joined by a Spanish family and watched two narrowboats pass before the Lift Bridge was lowered for us to go over. Then there were lots of passengers as we did a number of figure of eights around the various villages.
Very speedy journey from Nantwich to Crewe. Crewe Bus Station is a disgrace. This is by far the worst we have seen anywhere and we've seen plenty. Its dirty and delapidated, has no waiting area or seating and the toilet is disgusting. You have to pay 20p to get in through a heavy door, which many people wouldn't be able to handle, and then it doesn't close properly. So we made a hasty decision to get on an earlier bus than planned to Macclesfield. Pleasant journey via Sandbach and a pleasant lunch in the town.
Then to Manchester where we were met by the Chair of the Greater Manchester Passenger Authority, a Councillor from Chorlton, and Jonathan Morgan from the GMPTE press office. Yet another photograph of us smiling and thrusting our passes forward. Then we walked to the splendid new interchange at Shudehill. Ten out of ten for this bus station. The X61 bus to Horwich and Chorley surprised us by going on the M61 from Swinton to Horwich. We didn't think that was allowed, but it was great as it cuts the travel time considerably.
Monday, 6 April 2009
Day 5 - Birmingham to Shrewsbury
Before setting off on today’s bus journey, we took a tour of the Cadbury estate so that Manju could compare it with the other model villages or towns she has seen – Port Sunlight and Welwyn - and then went past my old school. Then the 45 into New Street. At 9am on a Sunday morning, this bus was packed with the most ethnically mixed group we have encountered. It was all very noisy and jolly. Manju overheard a conversation between two strangers, a black woman nurse on her way to work, and a white guy who indicated that he was going into town for a drink. They discussed one god or many, agreed amicably that there was one god whatever you called him and wished each other well for the rest of the day.
We walked across a city centre I no longer recognise to Priory Queensway for a bus to Walsall. Then more urban sprawl to Wolverhampton where we enjoyed the sardine sandwiches provided by last night’s host. We left Wolverhampton for Bridgnorth and, at last, hit some real countryside. The ability to rest ones eyes for minutes at a time on the far horizon is such a relief after the cacophony and clutter of the streets where the buildings and billboards, the traffic lights and vehicles endlessly restrict your view. Manju illustrated her eclectic tastes as we came into Shropshire. She is a scientist so likes facts. She told me that up until last night (half way through our journey) we had been on twenty two buses for twenty and half hours and they would have cost £67.70 if we had had to pay. She then read me Houseman’s ‘On Wenlock Edge’ from her electronic reader.
At Bridgnorth, which declares itself as Shropshire’s first Fair Trade town, we asked the bus driver where we could get the bus to Shrewsbury. He drove us on after everyone had left the bus and showed us where to go and said he would be our driver for the ongoing journey. Its a good job he did because the road the bus stop was on had only opened last week, the bus stop was without any information and we would have been stuck. These bus drivers really are very good. There was one in Solihull who when we asked for the location of our next bus, drove us on to the stop and we were able to get an earlier bus. In any case, at this anonymous bus stop in Bridgnorth, other waiting passengers discussed the qualities of the drivers on the service (called Choice) and told us they were organising a petition because the new weekday driver was too slow. Our bus driver was 10 minutes late at the stop but said: “I always come late so no-one misses the bus”. He then gave us a guided tour of the hills we passed – Wenlock Edge, the Wrekin and the distant Welsh mountains – and when we got to Shrewsbury proudly pointed out where Darwin went to school and the enormous statue of Clive of India, also a son of Shrewsbury.
We have just seen our second what I now know to be a female greater spotted woodpecker in the garden where we are staying.
We walked across a city centre I no longer recognise to Priory Queensway for a bus to Walsall. Then more urban sprawl to Wolverhampton where we enjoyed the sardine sandwiches provided by last night’s host. We left Wolverhampton for Bridgnorth and, at last, hit some real countryside. The ability to rest ones eyes for minutes at a time on the far horizon is such a relief after the cacophony and clutter of the streets where the buildings and billboards, the traffic lights and vehicles endlessly restrict your view. Manju illustrated her eclectic tastes as we came into Shropshire. She is a scientist so likes facts. She told me that up until last night (half way through our journey) we had been on twenty two buses for twenty and half hours and they would have cost £67.70 if we had had to pay. She then read me Houseman’s ‘On Wenlock Edge’ from her electronic reader.
At Bridgnorth, which declares itself as Shropshire’s first Fair Trade town, we asked the bus driver where we could get the bus to Shrewsbury. He drove us on after everyone had left the bus and showed us where to go and said he would be our driver for the ongoing journey. Its a good job he did because the road the bus stop was on had only opened last week, the bus stop was without any information and we would have been stuck. These bus drivers really are very good. There was one in Solihull who when we asked for the location of our next bus, drove us on to the stop and we were able to get an earlier bus. In any case, at this anonymous bus stop in Bridgnorth, other waiting passengers discussed the qualities of the drivers on the service (called Choice) and told us they were organising a petition because the new weekday driver was too slow. Our bus driver was 10 minutes late at the stop but said: “I always come late so no-one misses the bus”. He then gave us a guided tour of the hills we passed – Wenlock Edge, the Wrekin and the distant Welsh mountains – and when we got to Shrewsbury proudly pointed out where Darwin went to school and the enormous statue of Clive of India, also a son of Shrewsbury.
We have just seen our second what I now know to be a female greater spotted woodpecker in the garden where we are staying.
Saturday, 4 April 2009
Day 4 - Cambridge to Birmingham
A long day from Cambridge to Birmingham. We caught the excellent X5 from Cambridge to Bedford at 9.40am. This bus runs every half an hour, seven days a week, from Cambridge to Oxford, from early in the morning till late at night. We used it on our last trip from Milton Keynes to Oxford. Then we had a rather tedious slog through Northampton (the only repeat destination on our trip from Berwick to Land’s End), some pretty villages, Rugby, Coventry and Solihull. Then there was a bit of post graduate bus planning. I had found a bus from Solihull which came into Birmingham on the Stratford Road which, as a Brum girl, I knew would intersect with the 11C circular bus route and take us to Cotteridge where we are staying (and where I went to secondary school). I had even photocopied the appropriate page of the Birmingham A to Z. This meant we didn’t have to go into the centre and out again. The plan worked perfectly and we arrived at our hosts at 6pm.
Friday, 3 April 2009
Day 3 - Camden to Cambridge
The day began with the sight of a woodpecker on the bird feeder two metres from the house where we were staying. Very exhilarating.
From Kentish Town we took the 134 to Friern Barnet and from the same bus stop, the 234 to Barnet Church and that was the end for us of the remarkably efficient London transport system. Then to St Albans and separate buses to Stevenage, Letchworth, Royston and, finally, Cambridge. The leafy suburbs of north London are in great contrast to the transpontine brick desert of the south east. Actually we weren’t very impressed with anywhere we travelled through today. Endless identical high streets between towns which nearly merge into each other. The only exception was Welwyn Garden City which lives up to its name. It is delightful and the centre (probably protected by listing) is still an elegant twenties square uncluttered by advertisements or neon. Letchworth Garden City is also very pleasant.
Some of the buses today were extremely crowded with school children and others. But it is amusing how all these buses, called service buses in the trade, suddenly do a figure of eight to pick up passengers from a trading or housing estate, a hospital or a supermarket. If you think you have seen that allotment site before you probably have.
The connections between today’s buses were excellent except for Letchworth to Royston. They only run every two hours so we had lunch there. A happy drunk who heard us discussing this problem could not understand why we didn’t catch a train and offered to escort us to the station. Letchworth also has an excellent independent new and second hand book and music shop called David’s.
But now we are in Cambridge and all the clichés apply.
From Kentish Town we took the 134 to Friern Barnet and from the same bus stop, the 234 to Barnet Church and that was the end for us of the remarkably efficient London transport system. Then to St Albans and separate buses to Stevenage, Letchworth, Royston and, finally, Cambridge. The leafy suburbs of north London are in great contrast to the transpontine brick desert of the south east. Actually we weren’t very impressed with anywhere we travelled through today. Endless identical high streets between towns which nearly merge into each other. The only exception was Welwyn Garden City which lives up to its name. It is delightful and the centre (probably protected by listing) is still an elegant twenties square uncluttered by advertisements or neon. Letchworth Garden City is also very pleasant.
Some of the buses today were extremely crowded with school children and others. But it is amusing how all these buses, called service buses in the trade, suddenly do a figure of eight to pick up passengers from a trading or housing estate, a hospital or a supermarket. If you think you have seen that allotment site before you probably have.
The connections between today’s buses were excellent except for Letchworth to Royston. They only run every two hours so we had lunch there. A happy drunk who heard us discussing this problem could not understand why we didn’t catch a train and offered to escort us to the station. Letchworth also has an excellent independent new and second hand book and music shop called David’s.
But now we are in Cambridge and all the clichés apply.
Thursday, 2 April 2009
Day 2 - Canterbury to Camden
We left the llamas and oast houses of east Kent for the Medway towns. The signs of spring are so much more advanced here. The daffodils are fading but the magnolia and cherry blossom are gorgeous. Canterbury to Faversham, Sittingbourne, Maidstone, Chatham and Rochester. Apart from the last two, from the perspective of the bus and bus stations, they are indistinguishable. As we drank a cappuchino during the morning, Manju said, “Its 10.20 this must be Maidstone”. There seems to have been a planning tendency to combine bus stations with shopping malls and they are all the same. But we hadn’t seen anything yet. Our bus drivers were all unerringly helpful and knowledgeable but quite unable to understand why we didn’t just catch a train into London from the various rail stations we passed. Then after the splendid bridge over the Medway, we hit Bluewater. At least it sits in a kind of crater so it doesn’t dominate the landscape like the Trafford Centre outside Manchester, but it is ghastly. Visiting this place seemed to be the only way to connect the Kent buses with the London ones.
Our journey on was incredibly efficient but boring. Bluewater to Woolwich by the 96, Woolwich to Elephant and Castle on the 53 and finally the168 to Camden Town. From the bus the landscape was unchanging until we got to Greenwich and Blackheath - urban sprawl for ever. And the atmosphere of the bus is different. They are crowded. You have no relationship with the bus driver because all he or she does is nod at your pass. You get off at a door half way down the bus so the idea of thanking the driver seems ridiculous. All the announcements are pre-recorded. If the bus is a bit crowded, the bus driver obviously presses a button and a disembodied voice tells you to move down the bus. And the people are either sullenly silent or - mainly youngsters - noisy and aggressive.
The media are back in touch. So far this trip has been very different from last time when we were met and followed the whole time by journalists and camera men. Since that trip we have both done various radio and TV interviews in our local areas and were interviewed together by Jenni Murray for Womans Hour on Boxing Day. Manju is regularly recognised in the streets of Bolton and has become a star of the Womens Institute circuit. As I walked up the red carpet to the Vivienne Westwood exhibition at the Millenium Gallery in July in Sheffield, one of the camera men said: “Aren’t you the bus lady”. But this time the media interest is muted. Manju’s local paper are using this blog to record our diary and we shall be met in Manchester by local TV and radio. But Manchester is a long way off …..
Our journey on was incredibly efficient but boring. Bluewater to Woolwich by the 96, Woolwich to Elephant and Castle on the 53 and finally the168 to Camden Town. From the bus the landscape was unchanging until we got to Greenwich and Blackheath - urban sprawl for ever. And the atmosphere of the bus is different. They are crowded. You have no relationship with the bus driver because all he or she does is nod at your pass. You get off at a door half way down the bus so the idea of thanking the driver seems ridiculous. All the announcements are pre-recorded. If the bus is a bit crowded, the bus driver obviously presses a button and a disembodied voice tells you to move down the bus. And the people are either sullenly silent or - mainly youngsters - noisy and aggressive.
The media are back in touch. So far this trip has been very different from last time when we were met and followed the whole time by journalists and camera men. Since that trip we have both done various radio and TV interviews in our local areas and were interviewed together by Jenni Murray for Womans Hour on Boxing Day. Manju is regularly recognised in the streets of Bolton and has become a star of the Womens Institute circuit. As I walked up the red carpet to the Vivienne Westwood exhibition at the Millenium Gallery in July in Sheffield, one of the camera men said: “Aren’t you the bus lady”. But this time the media interest is muted. Manju’s local paper are using this blog to record our diary and we shall be met in Manchester by local TV and radio. But Manchester is a long way off …..
Wednesday, 1 April 2009
Day 1: Wednesday April 1st 2009: home to Dover to Canterbury
We met at Charing Cross station and caught our train to Dover Priory. We followed the Eurostar corridor till Folkestone, and then travelled between the sea and the White Cliffs to Dover. We should have caught the 15 but were seduced into taking the no 89 bus, a little 29-seater, with a destination blind to Canterbury. This bus took an hour to go circle various villages around Dover and then made a final spurt on the A2 into Canterbury.
There was a slight altercation on the bus . Someone, who we later learned was the local curmudgeon, was moaning about the lack of space for his large black bin liner filled with who knows what. Manju thought he was cross because her rucksack was in the storage space. She sorted out the space with him. When he got off the bus, the bus driver stopped the bus, turned to Manju, and asked her not to take it personally as this man always complained when the buses were not double deckers. As before , everyone thanked the driver, and he seemed to know many of his passengers personally.
We spent a lovely afternoon in warm sunshine in Canterbury, being shown round the Cathedral and this beautiful city by our host, who is an expert.
There was a slight altercation on the bus . Someone, who we later learned was the local curmudgeon, was moaning about the lack of space for his large black bin liner filled with who knows what. Manju thought he was cross because her rucksack was in the storage space. She sorted out the space with him. When he got off the bus, the bus driver stopped the bus, turned to Manju, and asked her not to take it personally as this man always complained when the buses were not double deckers. As before , everyone thanked the driver, and he seemed to know many of his passengers personally.
We spent a lovely afternoon in warm sunshine in Canterbury, being shown round the Cathedral and this beautiful city by our host, who is an expert.
Sunday, 29 March 2009
New Trip 1st April 2009 - Dover to Gretna Green
We are starting a new bus trip from Dover to Gretna Green on 1st April 2009. Next blog will be from Canterbury on 1st April
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)