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British Mensa Travel Special Interest Group |
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Travel
for geriatrics I probably find the learning curve of getting older more difficult than many, as neither I nor my children had experience of living grandparents. There are many areas of life this affects, but I want to write about those relating to travel. A couple of years ago I decided that I no longer wished to drive long distances and cut the mileage down to 6000 per annum thereby relegating the car to local use only. (Some years ago, I drove 10,000 miles around the Great Lakes.) I had always asserted that, when I could no longer get onto a plane or board a ship, I should spend more time doing shorter trips around England. Medical concerns have prevented me planning or enjoying any long distance travel since Christmas, so I thought I would try some day trips. One of my friends advised strongly against this as she had been with a certain group and no-one had spoken to her. Well - said I - there's no point in going looking for company - go because there is something of interest to do or see. I had almost given the ticket away having had very bad mornings but I managed to start out in pouring rain and was soaked through upper layers before I reached my local bus stop. A year ago I was very angry when they closed the stop for 10 weeks in order to build a shelter but now was thankful to make use of it. It is some time since I've joined the commuters and the 12 minute service arrived after more than 20 mins wait. I swiped
my Freedom pass and was called back by the driver to be told "You
can’t use that before 9am." "Oh, so how much?" £2"
- to my surprise. I scrabbled around to produce the sum; at least half
of it in copper, much to the chagrin of the commuters anxious to get to
work. The passenger sharing the double seat boarded and introduced herself as Janet. I noted she had neither a paper or a book, so I put mine away. For the next hour, I listened to a non-stop narrative of many walks round London open spaces, all of them involving long detailed correspondence about inefficient signposting, poor service in erecting or repairing new or damaged signs and a detailed list of the failings of almost every one of the London Boroughs. None of my attempts to change the subject was effective, except for it to be diverted to the castigation of all the tenants in her block of flats, especially the young ones who had all been told that the owners would be paying for the damage they created, long after they had moved on. "They must be paying colossal rents," I demurred. The next chapter was of all her good work in improving the block but when she went around to collect their share of the cost they refused to pay out. "You're the Chairman of the Residents’ Association?" I queried. "No - I’ve been there longest" was the reply. The driver's wife came round to offer a welcome coffee, so I got out my X-word and excused myself to Janet who then glued herself to the window. A beautiful rainbow prompted me to ask the off-side pair of ladies if they'd ever managed to find the end and dig for the pot of gold. We had a pleasant chat as we were now passing through pretty villages with lovely thatched cottages, signs of spring, houseboats and other craft on the river until reaching Marlborough. I almost did a Mary Poppins as I crossed the road in high wind to view the pleasant townscape. Someone came to my assistance. I didn't take off as I've sampled most types of air transport except a parachute, a kite and Concorde. The umbrella was refolded satisfactorily. I ordered lunch in a pleasant hostelry with a roaring fire when two ladies from the coach entered and asked if they might join me - my earlier arrival having saved them from reading the notices and sorting out the ordering procedure. Asking if
they were regulars they told me a little of their knowledge, their boarding
points &c and added that their last trip had been to Liverpool. Now,
that was my first home after marriage and I counted Harold Wilson's votes
there in 1954 . We went through points of interest they had seen in and
around Lancashire and it had included a trip on the Mersey. I had sailed
into Liverpool when returning from Basra, though having departed from
Middlesborough. Until I went to live in Liverpool, I thought the Liverpool
Victoria building at the Pier Head referred to the organ of our bodies,
and it was only when I heard the word with the long I that I learned such
as creatures as Liver birds do exist - hence Richard Gordon's tongue in
cheek witticism. On the way back we watched the ducks on the swirling waters of the river and waters rushing from sluice gates. I'm still trying to find out if anyone has ever seen a black cygnet - I suspect they are all born white or grey and the black ones develop that plumage later. The journey continued and I found myself having several pleasant chats as my lunch time pals had commented about me to others. To be honest I find that - if one has travelled widely - one can always find a point of contact with the others around. We continued to Salisbury and Janet informed me that I must see the Cathedral. I excused myself saying I'd lost count years ago of the numbers of Cathedrals I'd seen and recalled "Old Sarum" for my background to the place. I had the most incredible piece of luck though for as I wandered around I spotted the replacement sphyg I needed for a tenner . The previous week I had not been able to produce accurate records for my Doctor as the wrist variety meter had died on me. Here I was able to remedy the omission and had saved more than £30 which meant the outing and lunch was thereby a freebie. Salisbury is a place of character which I had not previously visited, so that omission was remedied. During the route home Janet produced a pile of street maps of the places we had passed and began to give detailed Guide Book information about street names, shops which had closed down and famous people who had once lived there. After half an hour of this I surreptitiously removed my hearing aid and had a little nap. As we left, several of the passengers gave me a pleasant farewell and hoped to see me on the Coach in the future. I have booked two outings in the next few weeks. The first is to Saffron Walden as I have never previously been, but had a long association with an American lady who used to commute there annually from Seattle The other is to Osborne on the Isle of Wight Osborne as my previous trips to the Island omitted Osborne. This form of travel seemed to be almost entirely for the female - there were only 3 men on the coach apart from the driver. Perhaps they hang on to their own driving wheels longer. First published in VISA issue 72 (Apr 2007) |