Seven day rover

As a parent now, I can't believe I was so willing to deceive our parents in such a blatant way and in an age before instant mobile phone communications. 

We had it all planned out, I had purchased a book of all the train timetables for that time of year and worked out a rather complicated route. I then typed this into my father's work computer and printed our itinerary on a roll of printer paper. I also dreamt the connections and the possiblitity of failures for months beforehand. 

The route was something like this

Day 1 Thursday

Portchester to Exeter

Exeter to Penzance (past the Royal Navy basic training school)

Penzance to Bristol

Bristol to Crewe

Crewe to Bangor

A very wet Bangor overnight to London Euston

Day 2 Friday

London Liverpool Street to Norwich

Norwich to Birmingham

Birmingham to Chesterfield (to meet a girl I fancied and who never turned up)

Chesterfield to London St Pancras 

London Euston to Carlisle 

Carlisle to Newcastle 

Newcastle to London Kings Cross

Day 3 Saturday

London Euston to Oxenholme

Oxenholme to Windermere

Overnight stay in a youth hostel 

Day 4 Sunday

Windermere to Oxenholme

Oxenholme to London Euston

Then it should have been London Waterloo to Clapham Junction to pick up a train to Liverpool, but the guard didn't turn up. 

London Euston to Stafford

Stafford to Edinburgh

Tried to sleep on the station but frequently moved on by police 

Day 5 Monday

Edinburgh to Inverness

We did plan to go to Wick, but we had a few hours in Inverness instead

Inverness to Edinburgh 

Edinburgh to Bristol (to sleep)

Day 6 Tuesday

Bristol to Crewe 

Crewe to Bangor

Night in a youth hostel

Day 7 Wednesday

Bangor to Cardiff 

Cardiff to Portchester

I was sick on the second day, either due to the contents of the pasty in Penzance, lack of sleep or eating my day old sandwiches for breakfast

We met some very interesting people, we were offered chewing tobacco, cigarettes, beer and on one occasion, we were offered someone's wife. 

On Edinburgh station we were offered a night with a very strange man, which we declined quickly and ran away. 

We arrived in the Lake District in the pouring rain and awoke the next morning to glorious sunshine and a wonderful view over one of the lakes. 

We walked a bit around Crewe, Norwich and Inverness, mostly we played cards on trains and slept in train seats. In all we covered over 3,000 miles on a seven day all areas rover ticket. 

Staying in Bangor, Leo phoned home to learn his exam results. They weren't as good as he expected and he wasn't very willing to go home the next day. The fact that he was willing to run away and leave me on my own, came as a big shock to me. In hindsight I should have been ready for the next time he did it

Pete and Leo

There have been many stories about how the three of us met, I can't remember which ones are true, so I will keep to the facts. 

Our school year group went to an activity centre near Calshot Spit for three of four days where we all tried windsurfing, canoeing, track cycling, climbing and other sports. Part of this "week" away was a nighttime disco. This event was compulsory and our sleeping quarters were out of bounds during this time. 

I didn't like the idea of a disco, I had never been to one and didn't intend to go to this one. I don't know why Pete and Leo were trying to avoid it. I have heard that at least one of them didn't like the music and there has been talk of avoiding a breakdancing competition. 

Pete and Leo knew each other from their primary school and I knew Pete from our tutor group. We managed to avoid the disco by taking a walk in the dark and chatting about such deep subjects as space and time travel. This allowed us to approach the bedrooms from an unexpected direction and sufficiently late to find the doors unguarded. We then spent the rest of the evening quietly keeping our heads low and talking rubbish. I had found my kindred spirits. 

At the time Pete would spend his spare moments drawing fire engines. He could also draw dustbin lorries, as long as they looked like fire engines with dustbin lorry rears. Pete was the short broody quiet one. He was reasonably intelligent, but never seemed to push himself. 

Leo was gregarious. The product of an academic father and a mother who was wild at heart. He soon found a reputation for being around when things became broken. No one could say these breakages were always his fault, he just seemed to always be there. 

I was the dreamer. Some of my ideas were good, some very silly. It was up to the other two to filter them and sometime we got it wrong. 

Some time later we had taken to visiting each others houses and playing darts. Each of us had access to a dart board at home and our own set of darts. Then we would walk the streets of Portchester talking nonsense and exchanging private jokes. 

It must have been an Olympics year. It was a warm sunny evening. I don't know who had the idea of having a javelin competition in a deserted play park near my house and using darts, but we started. 

The first throw was Pete (we only had three darts that day). It went up in the air into the grass of the park and lost. 

Leo's throw went high and to the left, into someone's garden. 

I had just decided not to throw when a policeman arrived on a bicycle. He was very interested to know why the three of us were in the park looking in the grass and carrying a single dart. 

On another occasion it seemed a good idea to ride our bikes on a field near Portchester Castle and pretend to be the Red Arrows. We tried riding three abreast with the two outer bikes pealing off to return crossing in front if the leader.  We tried cycling head on and passing each other as close as possible. It was all going so well, until a forth person on a bike arrived and Leo tried to involve them. This resulted in a collision and the most buckled wheel I have ever seen. 

We spent many days and evenings together. We shared our thoughts and our concerns. We spent one evening laying on a children's roundabout gazing up at the full moon convinced it was getting bigger and about to fall on us. 

We all had secret crushes on girls and tried to egg each other on to actually talk to them. We would walk the streets of Portchester covering miles each night, passing the houses of these girls and hoping for a glimpse of them at home. 

In the three or for years that we were in school together none of us went out with a girl (at least that's how I remember it)

We had other friends on the outside of our threesome. 

Simon Brown was an oriental looking boy. He was a font of knowledge on many scientific and engineering subjects and in hindsight, although we were partly in awe of him, we didn't give him the credit he deserved. He also seemed the most grown up person and most stable person we knew. The last I heard from him, he had applied for a job in defense research and I wouldn't be surprised to find out that he was a leading professor in that field. 

Jim Cronk in my mind is filed alongside Simon. He was studious and worked hard, but didn't seem to have the natural gifts that Simon had. In later life Jim formed part of a five-a-side football team founded by Leo and Pete. We played in a league on indoor pitches on a Fareham industrial estate. The Piano Players included myself, Leo, Pete, Andrew (Pete's brother in law), Jim and our star player Riccardo, a friend of Leo's from work I think. One night a week we would dress in similar coloured clothes and play two or three games of football. Each half was about 5 minutes which was plenty of excercise for us in our late 20s and playing against kids in their teens. The team name came from a slang term Pete would use "That's pianos" meaning "not very good". The team eventually was taken over by a younger, fitter group and after a while we were no longer asked to play. 

Nearing the end of our time in Portchester Community School, we were unsure of where we were going next. We had a poor view of life in Portchester, considering it as a place full of old people and no prospects. Pete decided to join the Royal Navy, following in his father's footsteps. I decided to tag along to a number of Royal Navy careers presentations and considered that joining as an Artificer in the Royal Navy would give me a paid job close to home with the same qualifications as if I had gone to college. Pete joined for similar reasons and we were all set to join up on the same day. 

In order to qualify to join as a Royal Navy Artificer, I needed O level or high CSE grades in Maths, English and a science subject. If I was to join straight from school, my exam results would not arrive in time. I was given a series of MOD exams which I passed and was given a joining date of 31st August 1987. 

Pete also passed the same exams, due to an administrative problem with his medical exam, Pete's joining date was delayed until January of the following year. 

I was very young and didn't know much of the world, so I thought if I was going to defend the United Kingdom, I should know what it looks like. I have always had a keen interest in railways and rather too much interest in timetables. Somehow I persuaded Leo to come with me on a seven day tour of the UK by train. Pete either didn't fancy it or couldn't afford it. 

We were told by our parents that we had to stay each night in a bed, so we joined the Youth Hostel Association, with a view to using these establishments on our journey. 

The spring before our mamouth trip, we took a trial run of youth hosteling by cycling around the perimeter of the Isle of Wight over 3 days. I remember that we took the car ferry from Portsmouth, so I assume we cycled to the car ferry. We could have taken the train to Portsmouth Harbour station as that would have made sense. The reason why I remember we took the car ferry, was that one of us chained our bike to the barrier at the front of the car deck and couldn't get it unchained when we arrived, stopping the cars from leaving. I think that may have been me.   

The ride was harder than I expected, as the Isle of Wight has a lot of hills in a small area. With the support of Leo I was able to finish it. 

For the seven day train journey I had completed two schedules. One for our families which included overnight stays in youth hostels and hotels each night and one that only included two overnight stays. Both involved taking the first westbound train from Portchester station on the first day and both ended on the same train on the seventh day. 

Portchester School

I had nightmares of joining this school (I still have nightmares of being lost in that place with no idea where I am supposed to go). 

It was at the end of our road and therefore very convenient. On my first day I was in fear of meeting that bully again (I never did, but I met others like him). Wicor school had about 120 children. There were about 300 just in my year at Portchester school and of course there were 5 years. 

I became a shy kid desperately trying to find the friendship that I had experienced in my previous two schools and overwhelmed by the size of the school. 

I was in class 1K, the classes in each year being named alphabetically from A, we were the tenth and last class in the year and seemingly as an afterthought our tutor room was in the music and woodwork building. Our first tutor was Mr Bennett, a short balding man in his early sixties, who taught music. He retired within the first two years and our tutor for the rest of our time in the school was William Walker. I idolised that guy. Maybe it was the brown leather jacket, maybe his relaxed attitude, or maybe because he taught us to sing Beatles tracks. More than likely, it was that he trusted me to work the antiquated stage dimmer board for the school play two years in a row. 

Teachers that stood out for me were Mrs Richardson, my set 2 maths teacher, who promised herself new shoes for every O level C grade, hats for every B grade and dresses for every A. She wrote to me after my results to thank me for the hat. 

Mr Wendes was our chemistry teacher, a bit too close to some of the older looking girls, but a great teacher. 

Mrs Mullis our English teacher, who taught me to appreciate the First World War poets. 

Mr Cunningham who tried to get us interested in the materials and techniques of woodwork and seemed to be absent from the room just long enough for chaos to ensue. 

A rather rotund German lady, who was fluent in Japanese and tried to teach me French for 3 years. 

Finally our physics teach for his wonderful practical experiments. 

I was pretty infamous on our regular cross country runs for being very slow, getting lost and usually quite dirty. It was never a subject that I enjoyed. If I had brains I would have done what my little sister did and pop into our house, which was on the route, have a drink and a snack then join the route somewhere near the school. 

In the end, I made two very good friends at that school. 

Wicor School

In Wicor County Primary school I felt like a big fish in a small pond and I loved it. From memory, I had lots of friends, I was resonantly able to handle the academic side and I could talk freely to girls. 

Having said that, I had two or three very close friends (Paul Fleet, Jeffery Hill and ?) and I would occasionally walk one girl home (Jennifer Fornton (now Frost). 

I would walk to school with my mother and Sister and certainly in the last couple of years, I would walk home on my own. This sometimes involved walking along the gutters of the side streets looking for nuts, bolts, the occasional coin and on hot days, tar bubbles popping through the loose stones on the road. 

It was so long ago that I am not sure which memory was from which school. I do remember a grumpy maths teacher and a classroom that was no more than a large wooden hut. He had a wooden ruler with plastic bands spaced every 10cm or so to re-enforce it when striking children by the palm. I was hardly ever in trouble except for one occasion. 

I was asked by my teacher to get something from a cupboard and no matter how hard I looked I could not see it. The teacher, in desperation I suppose, grabbed me by the neck to point my nose to whatever I was supposed to be getting. 

The same teacher asked me what word would describe an equal score, as part of a piece I was writing. She said "tie" and all I could think of was a piece of cloth round my neck. She  "how about a draw?" And all I could think of was a sliding box to keep things in (drawer). She left exasperated and I learnt that the English language is strange. 

I was heartbroken when Jeffery moved away as we were very close and regularly walked home together. 

Although I am sure I was popular at that school, I do remember spending a lot of my time pretending to be a steam engine walking up and down the running track marked on the school field. 

When I moved from this school to "big school" I had a big shock. Partly because most of the kids I knew went to another school, mostly because of a boy that Jane and I met during that school holiday. 

I regularly cycled the area with Jane without a care in the world. On two occasions that summer we met the same boy (a year or two older than me, stocky and rather disheveled). On both occasions he and his mates cornered us and laid down some threat of physical violence, ending in a threat to get me when I started the new big school. 

Move to Portchester

In 1979 Dad took a job based on top of Portsdown Hill. Jane and I were taken along to a second viewing of a house in Portchester and I loved the place.
When we moved in Jane and I had to decide which bedrooms to have. She chose the larger room nearer the stairs and I chose the small room attached to it. It meant I had to walk through her room in order to reach mine, but I did have a great view of the entrance to Portsmouth Harbour.
I loved that house. I loved the view, the days we watched storms sweeping over the sea towards us, the New Year Eves paddling in the sea and the openness of a sea horizon.
The house is located no more than 10 metres from the shoreline of Portchester Creak. It was built slightly higher from the surrounding garden than usual, because on some occasions, when the tide is high and the wind is right, the sea will flood into the garden. It would be accurate to write that the house is a "stones throw from the beach." As my first car once had the rear window broken by a stray stone whilst parked on the road outside.
Jane and I made fair use of the location. We swam in the sea on hot summers days, threw our fair share of stones into the mud and tried to catch the crabs that occasionally visited the beach.
Opposite the house there is a rainwater outflow pipe encased in a small concrete pier. On days with a spring tide it was always fun to walk on top of this triangular monolith as far out as we dare. Some friends found to the cost of wet clothes, that this wasn't always a safe thing to do.

Corsham continued

Between our house and the shops was a big field. There were trees at one end and football pitches marked out. Bordering the field was an indoor swimming pool and a school or college. I remember that on at least one occasion we walked from school past some horses in a small paddock, past the bigger school to the swimming pool.
I think this field was used for fairs and other events. This is probably where my sister and I entered fancy dress contests as various characters created by our mother, Jackal and Hyde, Lady Diana Spencer, Women's World and others. It was on our way to one of these events that I accidentally shut my sister's thumb in a car door.
Summers in Corsham were wonderful and endless. We played in the back garden with toys made from empty cardboard boxes, we sat in a padding pool warming in the sun watching the grass change from green to yellow to light brown. Dad grew vegetables in the part of the garden furthest from the house. I remember the runner bean poles. I can't remember the inside of the house, the memory seems to blend with other houses I have visited.
One day we went to Bath to see the Queen. There were lots of people there and I was given a pistachio ice cream which I liked the colour of, but not the taste. I did catch a glimpse of the Queen as she went by.
On another day we went towards Bristol to see a classic car rally. The car stereo was tuned to a station presented by a man with a St Bernard dog. There was a hypermarket near Bristol, I think it was a Carefor, we would occasionally go there to buy a one month supply of food, some of which must have ended up in a chest freezer in the garage.
I also remember going to Bristol Parkway railway station car park with my father, sitting in the car, eating sandwiches watching (or perhaps "spotting") the trains. For some reason I think my mother and sister were shopping.
I have been told and shown picture evidence of me at the age if 5, standing on my chair at an older relative's birthday party in Bath and singing "happy birthday" solo. I don't remember this. It seems that I try not to remember such incidents.

Corsham

My other memories of Corsham are that I was friends with most of the children in the cul-de-sac. The family opposite us on the road were the Philpotts, they had a boy about my age called Paul. The family next to us had a slightly older boy who seemed very intelligent and at the bowl of the cul-de-sac was Peter (I think). We played in each other's gardens, along the footpath by the cow field and on the clay bank at the end of our garden.
The game foremost in my memory was only played once. At the entrance to the Close are two grass covered banks rising from the pavement to the hight of some back gardens. We thought it was a great idea for some of us to hide in the grass shooting pretend guns onto a fearless few left behind at the bottom of the bank. This was going well until someone had the bright idea of using large stones found at the bottom of the bank as grenades. These were duly lobbed in a high parabola to land vertically near the intended victim. Unfortunately for me, I moved and a sizeable stone cut my forehead around the hairline. My parents were met by apologetic children and a son with blood pouring down his face.
On another occasion it was so cold that the water trough in the cow field had frozen. I don't know why I decided to try and tap dance on it, but I did and of course, the ice broke, leaving me waist deep in very cold water.
I don't know if we were trespassing or not, but my father would occasionally take us for a walk around these fields , on one occasion I learnt about Scotch mist (a light ground fog that appears constantly at a distance and that dissipates before you can walk through it).
The earth bank at the end of our back garden was mostly mud. At the time I didn't know why it was there, during my last visit, I found that it now holds a road. Interspersed in the mud were strips of silver grey clay. These strips proved to be wonderful slides, however the down side of this adventure was that my trousers would become covered in the clay. I expect this was very hard to wash out and also I seem to remember it may have been the end of one washing machine. I am sure that on at least one occasion I was in trouble for using one of these slide whilst being prohibited to do so.
At the end of that new road is the entrance to Box Tunnel, part of the main railway line from London to Bath. Sometimes Dad took us for a walk to the tunnel entrance, sometimes along a small road that ran towards an army base on top of it. I remember investigating one or two pill boxes (small cement fortifications to position a machine gun) along that road and a football pitch. I also remember structures built to allow smoke to escape the tunnel.
Somewhere between there and the Close was a small forest, I think there was a footpath from there alongside the cow field and further into other housing developments. I remember having a toy pistol that could be loaded with bits of potato propelled by caps. I shot my sister with that gun on that path and got into trouble for that.
I had a bike from about the age of three, so by the age of six, I must have been a competent cyclist. So that explains my confidence to ride a bike much larger than myself, then falling off and having to be taken to hospital after hitting my head.
I went to a school that seemed to be the other side of town. I can still clearly remember the walk there. Out of the Close, through a subway under a main road, along a path overlooking more houses being built, over a smaller road, through a cycle path between some terrace houses, left turn up the hill past these houses and right turn would eventually bring you out on a main road opposite the school. I think the school had flints built into its walls and consisted of an infants and juniors school. I remember my first girlfriend was Clare Bailey. Though mostly I remember the drawer that she kept her pens and pencils in. I remember one year it was so cold the playground froze into one sheet of ice. I remember that our classroom was opposite the assembly hall and that the other side of the hall was a road which needed to be crossed in order to get to the school playing fields.