Walking to school

We lived down a lane connecting two villages. I went to the primary school in the nearest village which was about a half mile distant. From the age of 7 or so I walked to school on my own. I have only a hazy memory of taking packed lunches so we almost certainly had school lunches from about 1949.

The route to school was around a small chicane bordered by trees and then ruler straight to the village where the road turned through ninety degrees into the village proper with my school about two or three hundred yards into the village. By the chicane were cottages at right angles to the road. A couple of hundred yards before the road was again open with my house standing in a small group of two semi’s and a bungalow.

I was quite happy walking to school. I wore boots similar to my fathers and I was quite proud of my walking ability. It was emphasised that I should walk facing the oncoming traffic and not accept lifts from strangers. There was little traffic in those days, perhaps a single vehicle during my walk. Through those curious tricks of memory I only remember walking in fine weather but it must have been miserable sometimes.

About  two thirds of the way into the  village there was a potential short cut, across a field and through the churchyard to arrive at school which was next door to the church. This route was only practicable in dry weather otherwise it was too muddy. The field had the ridge and furrow remnants which had been smoothed out so it steadily rose and fell The ridges were perhaps 20 yards or so apart. I thought this very curious at the time and it was only as an adult I have realised this was a residue from the old strip method of farming.   The school was a Church of England establishment nominally although this made little difference in practice. We occasionally had holidays when we had to attend an early service with the rest of the day free. We did seem to have a lot of bible stories and hymn singing at school so perhaps there was more church influence than I realised.

I can’t say it was a good school. I found out later at secondary school what a lot had been missed. There were some fifty pupils in three classes; a small infants and two primary.

Like many children I had imaginary friends and I rather liked to talk to myself ( supposedly to the friends ) while walking. This little boy walking along muttering to himself caused a few curious glances when cyclists overtook and I didn’t realise they were there.

Sometimes leaving the village by the road I would encounter the road sweeper.  Invariably he would stop, lean on his broom and ask how many times I had been caned that day. I was never caned: I don’t think there was a cane at school so I would give a silly answer. This never seemed to worry him and I would get the same question the next time I saw him.

The lane was surfaced by small stones ( chippings ) in tarmac. Sometimes on a hot summers day the tarmac would soften and nearly melt. I learned not to step on it then.

The main change while I was walking the route was that a kerb was added at some time in early fifties. This wasn’t a modern type as found in towns but rather a border of irregular brick shaped rocks laid end to end at the edge. A regular spring feature was that the verge would be mown. Almost all the verges were bordered by deep ditches on the field side.

One day I got completely confused about the time and left to walk home at lunch time. As I left the village I met my father cycling to work on the afternoon shift at the colliery. He was puzzled, put me right, and took me back on his crossbar. Thanks to this I don’t think anyone else knew of my mistake.