The journey

Our predominant long distance car journey is to Whitby nowadays. We are getting into the swing of it. We have settled on a preferred route.

We leave Tamworth along the Ashby Road heading to join the A41 just south of Ashby. This section of single track road is now quiet although when I was young it was busy. As a condition of riding a bicycle I had to promise not to go on the Ashby Road. A friend once led me along a stretch of it and I felt very guilty. When she knew I was with my second cousin, David, mother was not surprised and it contributed to her dislike of him.

We join the A41 dual carriageway leading on to the M1. As lorries jostle to maintain speed there are frequent hold ups to smooth travel as one lorry slowly inches by another. Past Donington with its historic motor racing circuit we join the M1. This is a long stretch up to the M18.

There is a stretch of genuine 4 lane motorway and a longer stretch of so called smart motorway. This is motorway with 4 lanes obtained by using the hard shoulder with occasional refuges. Overhead gantry signs give information and impose speed limits. This has worked very well on the M42 around Birmingham where slower speeds can keep traffic flowing smoothly and avoid the dangerous slow down and then speed up instability.

Up the M1 to just south of Sheffield where we turn on to the M18. We are now used to the rhythm of the M18 with 3 lanes to the A1M, then 2 lanes then 3 past the M181. This is hopefully our first stop at Doncaster services. We try to avoid stopping at the busy M1 services except perhaps for a toilet break.

At Doncaster Services we head for Greggs for a bacon buttie and a  single shared coffee. The shared coffee is not just meanness but the standard cup is far more than we care to drink at one sitting. If the weather is fine we then sit outside. Alternatively we may have a flask of hot water and make coffee and enjoy a snack by the car. Doncaster services is just a little bit off the motorway and is rather quieter than the M1 services.

Then on along the M18 joining the M62 towards Hull. Over the majestic Ouse bridge and immediately afterwards leave the motorway turning left through 180 degrees and backtracking briefly before joining the road to Selby. This is a fairly quiet single track road joining the A19 at Selby heading for York. By the junction is Selby Garden centre an excellent stopping point heading south on the return journey. Here I’m always amused by the Yorkshire books on display such as “Owt, nowt and summat”.

Along the A19 to meet the York bypass which is a fast dual carriageway. Usually free flowing but once a horrendous traffic queue for a reason we never discovered. The bypass ends at a big multi route junction where we take the A64 towards Scarborough. And this is a problematic part of the journey. Out of York is an incredibly busy single carriageway road. There are lots of small junctions and roadside stopping places, pubs, cafes and the like. Traffic entering and leaving can mean slow and halting progress. Later the A64 has a mixture of dual and single carriageway. The dual part gives a chance to pass some of the voluminous heavy goods vehicles.

Past Malton on a fast stretch of dual carriageway we turn onto the A169 towards Pickering.

The turn is just by Eden Camp, a former prisoner of war camp turned into a WW11 museum.. Access to the camp is being improved with a new roundabout . Then steadily towards Pickering. On the outskirts is the Steam and Moorland garden centre. This has a super café with a model train running around it at ceiling height.  A stop here is a minor indulgence as we are not too far from our destination.

We leave Pickering which is a lovely little market town full of interesting shops. It is the southerly terminus of the North York Moors railway. Out of Pickering heading for Whitby swinging along a gently sweeping single carriageway. The first part is through rolling farmland and the second across the North Yorkshire Moors National Park. The start of the moorland is marked by Boggle Hole, a big excavation, with long views over towards a hazy horizon with no habitation in view. There is a car park at Boggle Hole and the eastward view on a fine day is stunning. This part of the road is open with big climbs and descents along the road. Some of the descents are approached by blind summits so it appears you are driving into the sky- eerie!  Jeremy Clarkson lauds it as the best route in England.

The moorland stretch passes the early warning radar station at Fylingdales Moor, now a pyramid shape, The moorland ends with a very steep descent ( I in 4 ) down Blue Bank into Sleights and then a steep climb out. From the top of Blue Bank we see the sea. At the top of the climb out of Sleights we turn and gently descend into Whitby passing its new Park and Ride station. We have arrived.

Driving

I like driving. Although it can be frustrating in today’s crowded roads it is generally both a satisfying experience and an efficient means of travel. Like many I started on two wheels with a Lambretta motor scooter. As a step up from cycling I found this very liberating. It was also very dangerous; I had more accidents in the couple of years I owned it than in all my motoring life since. Thankfully I was uninjured but it gave me a healthy awareness of tyres and road grip.

Only on one occasion was Annette on the pillion when I had an accident, skidding on ice. It was at a low speed and other than slight bruising ( and embarrassment ) little damage was done. Her parents were understandably horrified. The only time her father read me a lecture was just before we went on a scootering holiday.  I think ( hope ) he thought I was trustworthy as I had known him for a few years but he was unhappy about two wheeling.

It was my future father-in-law who sold me my first car for a token sum. In truth it was clapped out and we only ever practiced driving on private roads. During my year in industry I took driving lessons. My instructor, recommended by the girls at work, was David O’Brien ( he had charmed them ). It would be fair to say he was rather idiosyncratic. He would comment on attractive girls or unusual cars as we drove around.

Even so I passed my driving test ( in a strange car new to David and in a strange place ) and soon started work and graduated to a Hillman Imp. Bought second hand in Liverpool it was troublesome but took us overseas to France on holiday. Serious motoring in France came with an Austin Maxi which managed several trips to the south later groaning under the weight of three children and all our camping gear. Not too long afterwards I briefly had a company owned Ford Cortina which I subsequently bought. It was a very satisfactory car which went “round the clock” at over 100,000 miles.

Again for a while I had company cars including a Volvo , Rover 820( until a tree fell on it ) another Rover 820 and finally an Audi 80. The latter I bought when I retired from Castrol. I replaced it with a Volvo V70 estate. This was a splendid car, big carrying capacity but still a mid-sized exterior..

The V70 made a big round trip in France in my last motoring holiday about 15 years ago. I felt that at last I had a car worthy of the autoroute. This feeling was nearly punctured along with a tyre. The car had just a speed limited emergency spare. Limping along at 50 mph was not a happy experience. Otherwise we travelled nearly 3000 miles in style.

I was sufficiently impressed by Volvo to replace the V70 with the slightly smaller V60. The performance is ample for my rather staid approach to driving although I’m disappointed the economy is only about the same as the V70. There are a number of advances, including stop/start, which were supposed to improve economy but it doesn’t seem so. At least the very high gearing makes for relaxing motorway cruising. After my stroke in 1993 I’ve always driven automatic’s, less fuel efficient but much easier.

I took to heart the comment of a former boss when I complained about traffic congestion. Timing is the key he said and he was absolutely right. I always try to avoid rush hour. Experience has also taught peak times on our fewer long journeys so I always try to time driving for the best. Leaving Whitby on a Sunday demands an early start to get past York before it gets too busy. Similarly I aim to get past Nottingham on the M1 either before or after the weekday rushhour.

Kinsey Millhone

For our local book club I’m choosing a favourite book to discuss. I’ve chosen not a single book, but a series, the Alphabet books by Sue Grafton. This long running series which started with A for Alibi and has reached W for Wasted are thrillers featuring private investigator Kinsey Millhone.

Although a private investigator in Southern California Kinsey is miles removed from the tough guy private eye of other writers. Although the books are thrillers they show Kinsey is a thirtyish woman engaged in fairly mundane work and living a frugal life. She doesn’t drive a high powered hot rod but for all the early books a humble Volkswagen Beetle.

The character of Kinsey is thoroughly explored during the books so much so that  two fans have written a companion book, G is for Grafton; all about Kinsey as revealed in the series.

The books are set mainly in the 1980’s and events move slowly ( about a third of real time ) so all cover the late 70’s and 80’s. Although the setting is given a fictional name it is closely modelled on real Santa Barbara, a small coastal town situated north of Los Angeles. The town and area are lovingly described.

Kinsey lives in a specially built tiny apartment described as rather like a cruise ship suite. This apartment was designed and built by landlord, Henry Pitts, and is situated alongside his house. It replaces an earlier garage conversion destroyed in a bomb blast in an early book. Henry Pitts is a lively octogenarian who plays a major part in the books as do his siblings. Although necessarily, because of the gulf in ages, the relationship is a father-daughter one it is made quite clear there is definite sexual attraction. Kinsey often remarks that Henry is something like her ideal man, and he is her best friend.

Sex and violence do not play much of a role in the books. Kinsey who has been twice married and divorced has two or three affairs in the whole series all of which have limited effect. Kinsey can be tough but generally violence plays little part in the books. Grafton takes care to put Kinsey in a carefully and thoroughly constructed background. One of the Pitts siblings is married to her favourite restaurant owner , Rosie, who is Hungarian in origin and dictates to Kinsey what food to eat. This is usually something outrageously Hungarian. A fairly typical evening sees Kinsey and Henry eating dinner in Rosie’s restaurant. Otherwise Kinsey prefers very simple foods such as a sandwich she prepares herself or fast food from a burger bar.

Inevitably Kinsey spends a lot of time driving around southern California. These drives are often described in detail. Also detailed is her jogging route; that is when she goes jogging as she often does in the early morning.

Kinsey is not well off and tends to lead a fairly hand to mouth life. During most of the books her daily bread is earned either by working for an insurance company which grant her an office in exchange for investigations or later with a lawyer where she has a similar arrangement.

I like the books which are straightforward and unpretentious. Kinsey is a very believable protagonist with a well described hinterland of relationships.

Separately a former colleague Andrew Markson contacted me via this blog. My email address is Philip.hall@philiphall.co.uk

Compost heaps ( this time with content )

When we bought the house we inherited three concrete block bunkers. They are quite large I guess about 6x5x2.5 in feet. We have used two as compost heaps. Our original intention was to use them alternately.

The structure of the heap would be the lazy type- that is just pile everything on top of some twiggy stuff for aeration then trying to vary the contents but otherwise just leave and empty every year. I know all the guidance about insulating, turning and covering but I’m just too idle to follow this. As I say I do try and vary the additions, keep soil to just a reasonable minimum and roughly balance the material. Since I’ve been adding shredded paper and sawdust I’ve also added a bit of fertiliser to keep the nitrogen level about right. Although I started by using high nitrogen fertiliser I’ve moved to the easier and cheaper Growmore, reckoning that some phosphorous and potassium won’t hurt and should help a bit.

This year ( well last actually ) we have had a curious phenomena. Both heaps have been hollowed out from the bottom by a burrowing animal. I habitually use front slats to retain the compost but I don’t go right to the ground with them so there is a gap of six inches or so at ground level. The amount of compost removed over a period of weeks has been phenomenal. I have  taken away about 6 barrow loads.

Knowing that animals like to nest in compost heaps in the past I’ve placed  an inverted trough to provide an access. Last year I didn’t.

I’m a bit puzzled what the burrowing animal might be. The most likely is rabbits. We know there are rabbits in the garden. In fact they have been a severe problem taking growing shoots in my vegetable garden. I have also found a large abandoned warren around the roots of large trees about half way down the garden.

We back onto agricultural land via a hedge so access for the rabbits is no problem. Over the years we have adopted a variety of anti rabbit measures. Perimeter wire fencing was a total failure.  A bird cage worked for a while until the fence material was chewed through. This necessitated wire netting reinforcement. Outside the cage we used cloches.

Although we have seen effects of other wildlife in the garden particularly foxes and  badgers, they seem unlikely burrowers. The badger would be too big and untidy. Moles might be a possibility but we have seen no other evidence in the thirty years here.

On the whole I’m not very concerned now. I’ve virtually given up vegetable growing as too much hard work and now focus on fruit and not so much of that as in the past. The compost burrowing is if anything labour saving. It makes the compost accessible without deconstructing the heap.

We are very compost conscious because our first houses were new with rather dodgy top soil. One in particular was in very poor shape. Fortunately the house was near the Port Sunlight Golf course which had just closed. The shelter belt of trees provided a lots of leaf mould which had been quietly rotting for years. It was a lovely soil conditioner although I used to wonder what the neighbours thought when they saw me with wheelbarrow loads along the road. We left before we saw all the fruit of my labour; I hope our successors valued the reinvigorated soil.

Ironically that suburban house had a very vigorous pampas grass by its front porch. We discovered after a few years, when the water feed pipe burst, that it had been leaking and  keeping the pampas grass well watered

The first concert

I had been going out with Annette for about 6 months. We were quite keen on each other- I was certainly smitten. It came to her 18^th birthday. Back then in 1960 the age of18 didn’t have the same meaning as today as one attained majority at 21. Even so 18 was important, and it was the first birthday as a couple so we resolved to do something major to celebrate.

I don’t recall quite how we hit on the idea but we decided to go to a concert by the City of Birmingham Orchestra. In those days, long before Symphony Hall, these were held in the Birmingham Town Hall. Neither family were concertgoers so this was a departure for us. The birthday fell on a weekday so we had to travel in by bus in time for the 7.30 start and back again after the concert. We were allowed to exceed the 10pm curfew time as it was a special occasion and I think her parents had a degree of trust in me.

Travelling in our conductor was George Hartwell. He was my parent’s friend who I knew only slightly. He was always called “Stuffer” because rather than swearing his exclamation was “Stuff it “. He had always had a jocular approach to me, whom he had known all my life. That evening was no exception

We arrived in Birmingham centre and walked to the Town Hall by the main church and the square where “the Floozy in the Jacuzzi” sculpture now resides. As we walked all the many town centre starlings were coming into roost on all the buildings around. It was an amazing sight and sound. I remember all the settling in noises- not raucous, even quite pleasant.

The Town Hall was not an ideal concert venue. The orchestra was on a raised stage and the audience were seated in rows on a flat floor. The only tiered seating was in the orchestra gallery behind the orchestra.

The opening piece was “Susanna’s Secret” overture by Wolf-Ferrari. Susanna’s secret was that she smoked tobacco; something not done by ladies in the 19^th century. I had heard plenty of recorded music but I was blown away by the richness and colour of the orchestra music; so much more grand than the recorded sound.

When I’m listening I involuntary nod my head in time to the music. Ironic as I’m otherwise tone deaf. Annette was both amused and slightly irritated by this. I can only control myself from nodding if I think about it. As far as I know this is mainly during live music and this evening was the first time I became aware of it.

Mother had given me a small box of chocolates to take. This was a signal she approved of Annette. The relationship with my mother got off to a bad start when Annette sent a card from her holiday addressing it to my school nickname. Although the nickname was harmless enough mother did not approve of it. This blip had been countered when Annette visited us for tea, charming my parents. I hope I didn’t commit the sin of rustling paper during the music. I was very conscious of concert etiquette and was careful not to applaud between movements during the major works.

After the concert ended we walked and caught the bus home. I must have indulged in a taxi for the final stage- a major event in those days. I had left my bike at Annette’s home and then cycled back to mine. I was very proud when Annette rested her head on my shoulder and dozed a little during our journey back. I had been anxious the evening should go well and I was pleased it had.

We have been to many concerts since but none had quite the magic of that first one.

The bigots have it

The Prime Minister has now confirmed what many of us suspected. Access to the single market is sacrificed to keep immigration down. Theresa May has made it very clear that immigration has priority over any effect on UK prosperity. There has however been a big development with Trump talking of a free trade deal with the US. This could be a gamechanger for Brexit.

We should be fearful of Trump’s motives. He wants a narrowly nationalistic and racist world and is ready to break up any multi national organisation. The fact this may end up damaging the US doesn’t enter his calculations. He is apparently ready to dump NATO which is the foundation of Western security. Trump is so ready to play Putin’s game we have to wonder if the Russians really do have a hold on him.

We have to be cynical about any free trade agreement as this runs counter to all of Trump’s protectionist talk. Even if it came about it could be a wrenching change for British industry. However in a context of tariff barriers into Europe it might be the only growth prospect around.. Whether British industry could rise to the challenge is difficult to foresee. Certainly business is overwhelmingly deeply worried and fearful. We may well have an even more austere immediate future than that which is already expected but there would be the hope of a recovery

Theresa May is picking a potentially hazardous course for her party. In giving in to the bigots and even racists on the right of the party she risks alienating those more internationalist in outlook. The pretence of the leavers being internationalist in outlook is exposed as a sham. And if Britain is to have any chance it will have to be looking to trade and interact more widely. At least with the US we would have aspects of language and culture in common.

We speak of Britain but it is dubious whether the UK will survive as a union. In both Scotland and Northern Ireland it is becoming difficult to see how a hard Brexit won’t drive them away.

Those of us who believe in tolerance and community in nations can only weep at the prospect of destruction of these values.  We begin to wonder if the supposed adherence to free trade is also a sham. Personally I believe that in the end civilising values will win through despite the hard times now.

Inequality

Much has been made of the suggestion that Brexit and Trump reflect the frustration of those who feel passed over in society. This is not just economic concern but that in some inchoate way the pace of societies change is too great. I feel that isn’t simply the economic decline in some industries and hence in some skills but that society moves too fast for the comfort of some citizens. This isn’t necessarily a matter of education but more of a flexibility in outlook; openness to new ideas.

I feel much of the opposition to plans such as HS2 stem at root from a wish to for things to stay the same. The argument is dressed up in different ways but there is a strong conservative instinct which manifests itself in opposition to any change simply because it is change.

I’ve just been reading a review of lifetime learning. The point is well made that this is likely to divisive. Some people, employers and organisations lend themselves to lifetime learning but some don’t. The example is given of a truck driver. Self driving trucks are predicted by some to eliminate many drivers jobs. Even so how is the solitary driver to make a transition to anything else. He is unlikely to have learnt how to learn, unlikely to get opportunities from employers, unlikely to have the opportunity to practice any newly acquired skill. In short likely to feel trapped and resentful.

There are massive efforts being made but essentially these only apply to those with confidence and support necessary: overwhelmingly those who are already well educated, skilled at learning how to learn and with the right employer.

I don’t have any answer. Clearly the divisions in society are increasing as witnessed by the skew in voting seen in the Brexit referendum. I see any likely outcome as increasing those divisions not lessening them.

Day to day

Looking back at my recent posts I seem to have said very little about my day to day activities. Indeed my activities have decreased quite a lot over the past few months. This was mainly because I was spending a lot more time in Whitby and furnishing and equipping our new flat was taking up our attention.

I have resigned as a school governor at our local primary school and also ceased reading support there. During meetings I find it increasingly difficult to hear all that is said. In general hearing and vision is becoming something of a problem. I have just visited my optician and been referred to hospital for further checks as the replacement lens in one eye is opacifying slowly. I’m assured this is not unusual and easily treatable. I certainly hope so as it is an irritation. Hearing is an issue; Annette says I have the TV too loud. I’m OK on one to one conversations but meetings with several people, some soft spoken, plus all the aside comments are a problem.

Computing and particularly printers have been taking up a lot of time. We have a new portable for Annette which required all kinds of setting up including contacting Microsoft to authenticate the software. I seem to have no luck with printers. I have had several fail over the past few years including both mine and Annette’s recently. One of the WI craft club has given a printer to Annette which after some effort I have got working. The donor had given up on it although it is fairly new. It is as well that new inkjet printers are cheap although cartridges are outrageous.

We like to have an open fire in the winter. This is an increasingly unfashionable thing to have. We have a back boiler linked to our otherwise gas fired heating system so I half convince myself it is fairly efficient. The brutal truth is that even so most of the heat goes up the chimney. I’m also a bit concerned about particulate emissions. We mainly burn ordinary coal as we are not in a “smokeless” zone supplementing the coal with wood. However cutting up the wood into useable portions, while it is good exercise, is also a chore.

I retain my interest in reading and being a glutton I am a member of three book groups. For the moment I’m organiser of our village book group although I’m hoping to step down. I also regularly attend a U3A book group and less regularly a reading group at our local main library. I haven’t yet reached the large print only stage in reading although I do find small print an irritation. E-readers are good for reading the text, it is just that they are subject to a some of the problems of all computing devices. Perhaps I should say that tablets are more incident prone than dedicated e-readers like Kindle. After becoming used to the long battery life of a Kindle that of a tablet is distressingly short.

At long last ( much overdue says Annette ) I’m sorting out my library. Frequent visits to a charity bookshop in Ashby are starting to reduce my collection to a more manageable size. It is slightly ironic that Annette has become a fairly keen reviewer of books and she seems to be acquiring books almost as fast as I’m giving them away. She frequents “Goodreads” and also wins books from Mumsnet and Gransnet.

My literary efforts focused on a book about our village history. I got sucked into this. I wrote a village history for our millennium celebrations. A publisher finding an account of village life roughly1915-1935 wanted more and because he is based in France I found myself editor, salesman and general gofer on the volume we published last spring. As of today we have sold just over half our tiny print run of 128. I am now able to boast I’m a published author albeit on about the smallest scale possible.

Backwards and forwards

This is the time of year to look backwards at 2016 and forwards to 2017. I don’t think there is any time in my life when I have looked at the political world with more foreboding. 2016 was a terrible year for the liberal, free trading thinker. The UK referendum with the narrow decision to leave the EU will be a disaster but the US election could even worse.

It is bitterly ironic that Trump made dark comments about a rigged election when it turned out to be blatantly rigged for him. He is the Moscow candidate and the hacking of Democratic party emails was clearly intended to damage the Clinton campaign. Much more blatant was the FBI intervention. Firstly the Republican head reopened the damaging email investigation only to close it for lack of evidence on the eve of poll when the damage had been done. Trump is simply not a legitimate President- just remember Clinton won the popular vote. Becoming Putin’s toady won’t help.

Not only is Trump a thoroughly obnoxious individual he is set to do a lot of harm through his misconceived policies. This is not my greatest worry as he is thin skinned and irresponsible- just the sort of person to start throwing atomic weapons about if he feels rattled.

Alongside this alarming possibility the UK referendum is a less serious concern. My main worry is economic although other effects are also overwhelmingly negative. Some of the concerns can already be seen. The buoyant economy in the second half of the year is down to consumer spending. People know prices will increase markedly so they are buying now. Despite the favourable exchange rate for exporters UK exports have not risen. So much for finding other markets.

There is also favourable economic momentum. The Cameron led government was doing a decent job. The UK economy reminds me very much of a cartoon character running off a cliff- suspended for a while before its fall. One thing the leavers have forgotten is that Brexit hasn’t happened yet. Having said that the insouciance has been very surprising. Foreign exchange dealers who are unsentimental have seen the pound fall a lot but apart from that confidence( or maybe complacency ) has been high.

I do detect some signs of second thoughts. The result of the Richmond by election must have been an enormous shock to southern Tories. The Lib Dems focused on the EU and ,standing against a supposedly strong candidate who thought he had a vote winner in opposing Heathrow expansion, won decisively. This must give Tory tacticians pause for thought. Outside southern England the picture is more mixed. UKIP’s racism could be a big threat in the north- that is if UKIP doesn’t implode which seems a definite possibility..

The referendum was dominated by Leavers post truths ( lies in bald terms ) We have already seen the collapse of some while others are being quietly forgotten ( remember the 14m Turkish immigrant myth). The Theresa May government increasingly looks to be uncertain. Although David Davies has ingratiated himself with some in industry I don’t trust him or Fox or Johnson. It is as obvious now as it always has been that single market access demands accepting EU immigration. I see a situation where Messrs Davis, Fox and Johnson throw up their hands and say the access to the single market is impossible because they try to impose demands unacceptable to other EU members.

I notice that there are non parliamentary forces regrouping. The parliamentary situation appears that the Tories are split, Labour is lukewarm under a terrible leader while UKIP make anti EU their reason for existence. The SNP bang on about wanting the best for Scotland while the only unambiguously pro EU grouping are the Lib Dems.

Gradually mobilising on social media are various groups trying to reassert some degree of rationality to the whole debate. They have driven me to do something I have never done before in attaching my name to petitions and donating money.

The leavers claque ( Daily Mail, Express and the like ) must be hoping that as the dire consequences of leaving emerge that people will have forgotten the reason. If not there will be an immense backlash. Most leavers believed the fairy stories that their wealth would not be harmed. Finding that was just another post truth lie could easily rip the UK apart.

Toilet Paper and time clocks

When I had been working for Unilever for a while I found myself on the Management Advisory Committee ( MAC ). I was at the stage of being established and fairly well known without becoming, as I did later, one of the “old lags”. The Research Lab, as did all Unilever co’s on Merseyside, prided itself on good labour relations- this at a time when Merseyside unions were notoriously militant.

The MAC was intended to replace an earlier consultative body which had become moribund. The MAC was for the scientific staff as all others were unionised. MAC got off to a very bad start when at an early meeting a throwaway remark was seized upon for immediate action. Someone remarked the ladies toilets had soft toilet paper while the gents had hard. MAC was thenceforth derided as only good for toilet paper issues.

I was very keen on flexible working hours which I felt would be quite feasible in a development laboratory where work was done individually or in small groups. It was agreed that through MAC this would be investigated.

After much discussion a broad scheme was agreed.  It would be tedious to give all the details but essentially the individual had to be at work during core periods morning and afternoon, was permitted to work during other times between about 8am to 7pm and could accumulate time taking an extra days leave per month. There were many additional rules such as no-one allowed to work alone in the laboratory for safety reasons.

Having reached this stage it was frustrating in the first joint meeting with unions to hear them say this was totally unacceptable. We then had further time consuming discussion before arriving back with the broad scheme originally proposed.

There was a great deal of opposition. Firstly it was proposed to use time clocks and many objected on what I felt were rather snobbish grounds to clocking in and out. ( just like factory workers seemed to be a common moan ). The second objection was it altered some customs. It was accepted that time off was granted for such as dental appointments. In flexible working this would come out of excess hours built up.

It was decided the only way to test opinion was to hold a ballot. This was organised by MAC with time clocks on display so staff could see what was involved. When we closed the ballot it was exactly evenly balanced. Suddenly one of my MAC colleagues realised that in all the organisational efforts he hadn’t voted. He cast his ballot and flexible working was thus approved by a majority of one.

This was hardly satisfactory and the laboratory management accepted the bold idea of a trial without clocks using time sheets policed by them being on open display for all to see.  The trial was a huge success and opposition melted away.

Myself, I found it of great benefit and I usually easily managed to obtain the extra days leave every month. This just meant a bit of extra organisation to pre plan the days work for my assistant while I was away.

I remain a great advocate of flexible working and I was very pleased to be in the Castrol Pangbourne scheme ( which actually used time clocks ). It is far more widely accepted these days with so many working from home.

I have often wondered since  whether my colleague wasn’t being a bit disingenuous, and was determined after all our hard work to avoid a tie. If so the successful outcome justified his effort.

Train spotting

I was an avid trainspotter for a few years, roughly 1953-6. I had befriended Anthony in our first day of secondary school. Learning a group from our form went to Station Fields besides Tamworth railway station on a Saturday morning we joined them and were immediately hooked. This was an excellent venue by the West Coast Main Line and by the Birmingham-Derby line crossing on a viaduct.

Frances’s present to me at Christmas was a “Railways, nation, network and people” book  which tells me Tamworth station had banned trainspotters in 1948 which was why Station Fields was the spotters venue.

The West Coast mainline ran quite near our school field but tantalisingly just too far away to make out the engine numbers.

The spotting was simplicity itself although there were a few rules to follow. The engine number was prominently written on the side of the loco cab. The five figure number in our LMS region always began with 4 so it was enough to note the final four digits. The rule was you had to actually see the locomotive yourself,  although someone else could have read the number. Thus you ended the day with a notebook with a range of 4 figure numbers. Then in the evening you transcribed these into underlined numbers in the Ian Allan book which listed all the loco’s in the region plus brief details. Many times you would have spotted the engine on a previous occasion but gradually your book filled with underlined numbers ( called “cops” ).

It would be very unusual to see a locomotive from outside your region which would start with another digit in its five figure number

Locomotives were usually built in classes of closely similar engines. Some important LMS ones included the Patriot class 4-6-0 with many named after British army units, the Jubilee class 4-6-0 with many named after prominent people and the Duchess class 4-6-2 where the  names were of aristocrats. Generally only the larger, more impressive engines were named. The smaller, lessor classes just had their number.

This naming of engines was entirely separate from the naming of trains. The train name carried on the front of the loco usually linked into the nature of the service. Thus the “Red Rose” ran from London to Lancashire. By the mid fifties the practice of naming trains was decreasing and becoming fairly unusual.

By the way those numbers after the class name signified from front to rear the number of leading undriven wheels ( 4 would be on a bogie ) then the number of driven wheels and finally the number of trailing wheels. Thus small goods or shunting engines might be 0-6-0, known to us as a duck-6.

The workhorse type was the black 5, a design of 4-6-0 with none named. These were extremely common hauling freight trains or humble passenger trains. The longer distance “express” trains tended to be hauled by Jubilee, Patriot or Duchess classes. I remember going to London in 1954 pulled by a Patriot, although one sadly unnamed.

Most of my spotting was with Anthony. His parents indulged us by going to Rugby and Crewe where they went into town while we spent a few hours at the station. When we were a little older we made occasional excursions ourselves. I remember going to Dudley just so we could ride on the diesel multiple units then unknown anywhere else in the region.

There was a technique to spotting at a large station. Typically the twin or 4 tracks split into many platforms with often a shunting area nearby. You positioned yourself at the end of a central platform. This meant you were near the loco when stopped and otherwise gave a general good view of all the comings and goings.

Such was my passion that I would often cycle several miles from my home in the evening to the main line just to see a couple of trains through. One of my regular evening spotting places was just across the line from Annette’s home although , of course, I never realised it at the time. Another quick spot was while I was waiting for the school bus at the end of the school day. Our bus stop was mainly to pick up girls from another local secondary. The stop was a couple of hundred yards from the mainline. I would go, keeping one eye out for the bus, then on seeing it pass run back to the stop where hopefully the girls were just boarded and I was in time.

Much has been talked about the romance of steam. I suppose I was as entranced as anyone not realising that Britain had clung to an obsolete technology. Certainly the sounds, smells and sights were distinctive and attractive. The locomotive seemed almost alive and all the complex drive linkage was in full view.

We reached something of a pinnacle one Sunday morning at an obscure branch line in Leicestershire. We didn’t expect to see much but we hoped to see something new ( a “cop” in our jargon ). There was a Duck 6 pulling a few trucks. The driver seeing us watching invited us onto the platform and took us on a short ride to the next station and back. We were enthralled although our account at school the next day was met with some scepticism. Our ride was actually on a part now preserved as a heritage railway, the “Battlefield Line”.