FORTY TWO YEARS AGO - CHAPTER FIVE.

Forty two years ago Cheltenham was a small town and did not have the Authority to take a Driving Test and issue a Driving License. For the purpose residents of Cheltenham had to apply to the Gloucester County Office. Accordingly, Triloki had applied to them for taking the test but had been told that there was a very long waiting list and he was being given an appointment after about two months. Since we had very limited time at our disposal in UK, Triloki picked up the phone and called up the Gloucestershire Office.

Triloki spoke with the concerned Officer and told him that he had only a little more than two months in the United Kingdom and he wished to tour the country by road. 

"Would it be possible for you to allow me to jump the queue and take the Driving Test as soon as possible, keeping in mind my special circumstances?" asked Triloki.

The County Official heard the full story patiently and then asked, "Mr. Nagpal, do you have a valid Driving License issued in your name by your country?"

Triloki said, "Yes indeed, I do have a valid Driving License issued by the Government of India"

The County Official said, "Good, in that case your Indian License can be used in the UK during your stay of two months and you will not need to take a test here."

Triloki was quite surprised by this information and delighted too.  This was like an unexpected windfall. But then there was one glitch, the Indian driving License had been issued in Hindi. Triloki therefore disclosed this to the County Official.

The County Official said,"Oh Dear that is a matter of concern, but Mr. Nagpal, by looking at the License can one make out that it is a Driving License and not a Dog License?"

Triloki told him that there were a few diagrams on the License by which one could conclude that it was indeed a Driving License.

The County Official then said, "Well then Mr. Nagpal, that settles it. You can use your Indian Driving License here. Enjoy your stay, Good Bye"

So apparently all that drama at the car rental place in Cheltenham and our slow drive down the countryside to Stratford Upon Avon on the Red double decker Bus, had been quite unnecessary. But then these incidents had added to the adventure and excitement of our lives. Besides, I am quite sure that my story would have remained quite mundane and insipid without these stories within stories. Right?  It was actually a case of "Much ado about nothing" and also "All's well that ends well". 

OUR BEAUTIFUL CAR

Armed with our new powers to hire a car legitimately, Triloki approached Budget Rent a Car and chose a beautiful silver coloured Vauxhall Viva for our trip to the Coast. We were going South of Cheltenham to Weymouth and Southampton. We were again going to be five of us, Francis, Sushma, Vishnu Arya a new entrant, Triloki and I.

It was decided that I would be the Navigator. In those days one had never even heard of the GPS and Tom Tom were the drums by which people in Africa communicated with each other, by beating of the drum. Well that is what I had read in Phantom and Tarzan comics! A Navigator had to depend upon a huge Map which had all the roads, lanes, rivers and villages/towns marked in great detail. The map would be of an enormous size and one needed to be quite deft with folding and unfolding the map. One wrong fold would mean a lot of minutes lost as well as a lot of patience lost.

Reading the map was a tough job, one had to watch the road, look out for turnings, keep spotting beautiful areas, NEVER, ever make mistakes, particularly if the car was being driven by the spouse. The war that took place if a turning was missed or a wrong turning was taken can only be understood by much married readers!

I agreed to take the risk so that I could get to sit on an individual seat in front and would not be squashed with two others if I sat at the back. Oh well, never mind, I was selfish, and no one will grudge it now after so many years. What do you think?

On a bright and beautiful Saturday morning all five of us set out to see the wonderful beach at Weymouth. The drive was pleasant, as we usually took the "A" roads which were well known for their scenic drives. We drove past the towns of Yeovil and Dorchester. Thomas Hardy had lived in Dorchester and the town of Casterbridge in the "Mayor of Casterbridge" was actually modelled on the town of Dorchester.

Weymouth is situated at the mouth of the River Wey on the English Channel. The town is very aptly named, isn't it? This port was the place from where in 1635 one hundred people set sail across the Atlantic Ocean and reached the East Coast of  North America. The town in which they settled down  was named Weymouth by them and is situated in the State of Massachusetts. 

THE BEACH, SEA AND ME

The Sea at Weymouth was as blue as one could have imagined it to be. The colour of the sky too matched the colour of the sea. The beach was clean, beautiful and there was no garbage to be seen anywhere. The sand was a golden brown colour and was spread over a large area. As one walked towards the water one's foot would sink into the sand. The waves came in one by one, each one more beautiful than the other. We sat enchanted and entranced by the soothing sea breeze and the sound of the waves as they rolled by. After sometime we decided to take a walk along the beach and find a place to have our lunch. As we walked we saw a huge sea liner anchored at the port and we all stood and gaped at the beautiful ship and took a lot of photographs.

There was a funfair near the beach and as the day went by more people came to the beach, spread their towels, put up their beach umbrellas, applied sun screen and then lay down to read their books, or frolic around in the water. None of us were interested in swimming, so all that we did was watch, watch and watch. This beach was very different from our beaches in India. There was no narial pani wala, no chana zor garam wala, and no balloon wala too.

TRILOKI AND I

Having had our fill of Weymouth, we decided to drive on to Southampton, which was about 61 miles away. Southampton was further towards the East and had been an important port through History. It was the departure point for the Pilgrims, who were actually the separatists, who fled from England to settle in America in 1620 on board the "Mayflower". The RMS Titanic also sailed from this port in 1912. It is a big port and known as such, not for its beach. Southampton is also famous for its night life and all things associated with sailors.

 Being eternally broke people as far as finances were concerned, we did not venture towards any of the money spending events. We just walked past interesting scenarios and buildings and after having our dinner returned to our car. 

Did you think that this journey was going to be uneventful? Of course not, no story is complete without its surprise element. As we left Southampton en route to Cheltenham, we suddenly heard the unusual sound of a car's horn being blown at the highest pitch for a very long time. Yes of course, it was someone shouting at us verrrry loud and harsh. Triloki had taken a turn without putting on his indicator and therefore there was this huge bombardment. Drivers in UK use the car's horn only to let out their steam on an erring driver. I thought it was a very practical and decent thing to do as the tongue does not lash out, no unparliamentary words are used, the Blood Pressure does not get erratic and the end result is the same, the pleasure of having shouted is achieved. 

We were properly chastised and drove back to Cheltenham safely.

If the story so far was good and interesting, then I will look forward to taking you with me on my next journey to the most wonderful city of London. Did you know it's streets were paved with gold? London...the city of the Queen, Lords, Ladies, Dukes, Duchess, scullery maids, Sherlock Holmes, James Bond and what else? Oh yes, Oxford Street, Pall Mall, Piccadilly, Trafalgar Square, the Thames and its Embankment, London Bridge, Tower Bridge and the wonderful Westminster as well as its Abbey. What is London without the Oval and Wimbledon and its numerous parks? 
London is the city from where Great Britain a tiny little country,  became the greatest Empire in the World, over which the sun never set. That I agree, was once upon a time.  Yet, even today, it is the most bewitching city in the whole wide World. I shall take you there with me in my next story.

Dus ve daniya- that was Russian, Namaste, phir milenge jaldi se! Do wait for me... I will be back sooner than you think. 

42 YEARS AGO-CHAPTER FOUR

 After our adventure at the garage at Cheltenham, Triloki did not want to venture again to hire a car without a proper driving license in his own name. He therefore approached the Gloucestershire County Office at Gloucester. He told them that he would like to give a driving test so that they could issue him a license to drive a car in the United Kingdom. There was a long waiting list for giving the test.

Having been bitten by the wanderlust bug, Triloki and I could not let the absence of a license to hire a car stop us from visiting the neighbouring places As it is United Kingdom is a small country in size, but its impact on our minds and lives is immense. We in India have to compulsorily study two languages in school. One language is essentially English. When one reads English Literature, there is no way that one can  avoid the "Bard of Avon". It was therefore decided that Triloki and I would venture out on our own to see this wonderful place which gave to the world "Shakespeare."

No need to tell you that we had to choose the cheapest mode of travel. There are delightful Deluxe buses, the National Express buses and then there are the Red buses which are like passenger trains which halt at every stop. They are slow, stop everywhere and take all the time in the world to take you to your destination. Time was not in short supply and we were not in a hurry. So the Red bus it was that was to take us to Stratford upon Avon. Stratford upon Avon is towards the North East from our base Cheltenham.

On a Saturday morning Triloki and I walked to the Bus Station with home made sandwiches, chocolates and water in a small backpack which in those good old days was called an air bag. We bought our tickets and were thrilled to see that we were to travel on a double decker bus. We quickly climbed the steps and occupied the seats right in the front on the right hand side. Soon the bus left Cheltenham and we were off on a journey across the countryside. The distance was about 30 miles and we expected to reach our destination in an hour.  I soon realised that reaching in one hour was an optimistic expectation. It seemed as if the roadways was bent upon fulfilling my every wish. The bus  instead of rushing, actually ambled along the way. It took a longish picturesque road, and went in to small little villages, drove along the river and went on and on and on.

A VILLAGE

I was delighted to see a small little village approach and our bus stop outside an inn. The inn was exactly like what I had read about in various books. It was a small little cottage with a thatched roof and a garden in front. There was a brook flowing across the road. The only thing lacking was that there was no Stage Coach and no horses in front of the Inn. Suddenly to my utter surprise and joy, I saw the place where the Stage Coach was supposed to halt in olden days,  and also saw the stables where the horses were changed. Oh Wow! so I was actually seeing an inn around which surely some story must have been woven, some time ago.

After the stop at the fascinating inn with an equally fascinating name, the bus had to take a right turn and go on a bridge which was across the small little river. The bridge  was tiny and the turning appeared quite sharp and the bus looked like  a mammoth as compared to the tiny bridge  and the turning.

A BRIDGE

Looking out of the bus from the front I was dreading what would happen next, but the huge double decker Red bus deftly took one turn and we were on the bridge, soon we were across the river and I let out a quick breath which I had been holding on to for dear life. Yes of course I know, buses go on that route everyday, there is no problem for the driver, but then what do you tell an anxious passenger who has nothing but fear written all across her face?

The countryside was beautiful, there was not a leaf out of place,  there was not a speck of dust anywhere, and there were no people to be seen anywhere. The lovely cottages with the English Rose creeper climbing up the slanting rooftops, the tiny little gates and the number of the house written outside each cottage door was a visual delight .

A LOVELY COTTAGE GATE

The bus went on and on and went into more villages, halted, took on more passengers, took more turns on bridges,  and lulled us into a sense of complacency. We had actually set out on a journey to watch the world go by at its own pace. The names of the villages were very quaint. One needed a lot of time to take the name of the village, and yet the names were not abbreviated, the full name was always taken.  How does the name Bishop's Cleeve, Bourbon on the Water, Stow on the Wold sound to you? Yes, they are names of little towns that we crossed on our slow journey towards  Stratford upon Avon. Had the names been abbreviated then the first one would be BC, the next BOW and the third one would be SOW.

Soon we saw that the road became a bit wider, and we were entering the urban town of Stratford Upon Avon.  I got transported from the early Eighteenth century inns and Stage Coach stations with horses  and tiny little bridges across tiny little brooks to the  Twentieth Century, where there were tourists and National Express buses and cars and taxies, and a little bit of noise. The Red bus had brought us to our destination by a lovely memorable road.

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE'S HOUSE

We went straight to the house where William was born in 1564.  His cradle is still kept in the room which was where exactly the Bard of Avon was born.This Cottage is a museum and has been maintained as it would have been in the days of William Shakespeare. There  are many  objects of those days preserved and displayed for the viewing pleasure of the tourists who come in hordes to see the house.

ANNE HATHAWAY'S COTTAGE

We then went to see the house of Anne Hathaway, his wife. It was a little away and the thatch on her house was denser and more brown. It is really amazing to time travel and see these memorials as they were in those days about 500 years ago.

As it is, I am quite fascinated with the name of the place itself. Stratford upon Avon where Strat is actually a street and a ford is a shallow place with good footing from where a river or stream can be crossed by wading or on a cart. Avon is the river upon which this town was built. 

This town was a market town and is about 800 years old.

Shakespeare was a poet, playwright and also an actor. He was born on 26th April 1564 and died at the young age of 52 on 23rd April 1616. He married Anne Hathaway when he was eighteen years old and Anne was twenty six years old.

The journey of 30 miles which took us through beautiful lands, lovely cottages, swift rivers and tiny bridges were like a journey through a story book. The Red double decker bus took me through four centuries of immense natural beauty, peace, calm and literature.

RAMBLING ROSE

It was just a chance decision to travel by this cheapest mode of transport which went slowly around every bend, every bridge and every village. The peace, calm and patience that I felt on that journey perhaps never got replicated.  It was only incidental that we reached Stratford upon Avon and saw the places that we actually set out to see on that beautiful Saturday in 1973. 

This slow bus journey was one of the most beautiful and  memorable journeys that I have performed in my life, and I can tell you that I have been on a lot of bus journeys. Regular weekend bus journeys from Chandigarh to Delhi and back for almost one year and weekend journeys from Dehradun to Delhi and back for four years is a lot of bus journeys , you will agree. This journey was more enchanting than reaching the destination was. Triloki and I were both a captive audience to each other. The bus was nearly empty, at least the top deck was exclusive to us. The view from the window was beautiful, the speed of the bus was soothing, there was no speeding, no rushing, no tension, everything was as if, " All's well with the World". There were no cell phones to take away attention from each other or nature's best view from the window. It was in the morning and we did not doze off to sleep also, as they say in Urdu,"Kharama kharama chale ja rahe thhe". There was not a care in the world, no hurry, nothing but a soothing beautiful slow journey through life.

Thank you my dear friends for being with me so far.

Next week I will take you with me to Weymouth and Southampton. 

"There are stories and incidents and adventures galore, 
wait for them till I narrate them my dear fellow traveller."
Buona Sera, Namaskar, see you later....

42 YEARS AGO-CHAPTER THREE

After seeing our first snowfall at Bristol, we took the scenic "A" road to go thirteen miles South East towards Bath, our  first destination as a tourist in this land of Great Britain. Bath has always had interesting connotations for me. We in India are always obsessed with bathing.  In 26th century BCE which is about 5000 years ago, Mohenjo Daro, the biggest city of the Indus Valley Civilisation, had  a huge granary and a few other massive buildings and structures, and there was a large and elaborate public bath, which is now classified as the ruins of  "The Great Bath". Those many years ago too, bathing was an important part of life. The gigantic size of the public bath may have had some special significance attached to it. This great bath measured 11.88 meters x 7.01 meters and had a maximum depth of 2.43 meters.
All good things for us Indians start with a purificatory bath, in fact our day starts with a bath. Could that be a reason for our choosing Bath as our first destination? Actually no, that was not the reason why we chose Bath. Bath was the nearest tourist destination, had  historical importance and was also known to be a beautiful place.

So off we sped on the A 4 highway towards Bath. I must tell you that while Motorways are known for the speed at which one can travel, "A" roads are well known for their scenic beauty. They also represent the traditionally important radial routes coming out of London. A4 is from London to Avonmouth, it is also known as the Great West Road or Bath Road.

Bath is in the Avon Valley near the southern edge of the Cotswold. It has a range of limestone hills and has been designated as an "Area of outstanding natural beauty". The limestone hills  surround and make up the city of Bath, which is not very spread out. We therefore planned to park our car in a parking lot and then walk around the town and visit all the places of tourist interest. 

We soon reached Bath and started looking for a place to park, where the car would be safe and the parking would not cost us too much. We found a good spot, parked the car and Triloki went towards the parking meter to put in some coins that would take care of the parking charges  for the day.

No sooner had we walked a few feet away from the car, we heard some sort of a strange siren  blaring. We, who had not so long ago heard air raid sirens during the Indo- Pak war in 1971, started wondering what all the noise was about. Could there be an air attack? We were well trained to run for shelter in case of an air attack, so we started looking for air raid shelters. Then suddenly one of us noticed that there was a traffic light which was making all that commotion. The noise was being made to draw our attention to the fact that our car was parked covering a bit of the zebra crossing.

Aha! I was reminded of the saying, "An Englishman's home is his castle". 

In 1763, William Pitt the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom had defined the dictum as:-

" The poorest man may in his cottage bid defiance to all the forces of the crown.

It may be frail,
its roof may shake,
the wind may blow through it,
the storm may enter,
the rain may enter,
but the King of England cannot enter."  

So this was the land where the right of a person on his land was his alone. A pedestrian also is given importance and has the right of way to walk on the pedestrian crossing. In such a land,  we had trespassed over the space meant for the pedestrians walk! This was sacrilege! 
Quickly we went up to the car and parked it properly within the space marked out for parking the car. That was lesson number one that we learnt. We cannot intrude upon the space  of another.

We now marched towards the famous bath which was built by the Romans in 60 AD. This city became a spa, as there were natural hot water springs here which had curative properties. Over time this City developed, an Abbey was founded here in the 7th Century, in the 17th century during the Georgian era, the Royal Crescent, Circus, Pump Room and Assembly Rooms were built. Coming to Bath became very popular and the nobility of England spent a lot of time taking the waters of the spa.

THE ROYAL CRESCENT

The Royal Crescent, which was built between 1767 and 1774 is a very spectacular terrace. While the curved  facade of thirty houses looks very uniform from the front, in reality the owner of every house built the rest of the house behind the facade as per his own specification.

VIEW OF THE ROYAL CRESCENT FROM THE BACK

Therefore, while from the front it looks uniform, from the back the houses are very different with different roof heights and juxtapositions. 

Rain water in Bath and its surrounding  area percolates through limestone aquifers to a depth of between  9,000 to 14,000 ft (2,743 to 4,267 m) where geothermal energy raises its temperature to between 64 and 96 °C. Under pressure, the heated water rises to the surface along fissures and faults in the limestone. Bath is the city built over the fissure where this heated water rises. 

THE BATH

These hot water springs are supposed to have therapeutic value and cure illnesses. I was reminded of our own sulphur springs in India where a lot of people go for curing themselves of aches and pains and joint problems. The amenities that are available in our hot springs at Sohna and elsewhere are really pathetic. What we saw in Bath was majestic and beautiful. No one from our group was interested in getting a cure for anything as at that young age aches and pains were mere words and were non existent for our own persona. 

We saw the spa, visited the Pump Room, Assembly Rooms, walked along the lovely open vista, peeped into the elegant cafe and then reached the quintessential shop for memorabilia. I have always liked this very subtle reminder at the end of a visit to a tourist spot which says "you may like to buy a little knick knack as a reminder of your visit". No one actually says these words, it's not even written anywhere, yet the presence of a curio shop  at the end of a visit gives this message loud and clear. There is no escaping from this message as everyone has to walk through this curio shop to  exit from the building. I, who  can never resist  temptation, paid heed to the message and bought a set of coasters with the pictures of all the beautiful spots of Bath. Yes, you are right,I still have those coasters preserved. I  used them sparingly in all these forty two years and preserved them, so that I could tell you this story with pictures attached.

Before leaving the spa we had to visit the cafe and have a typical English tea. A tea is incomplete without scones, well, that is what Jane Austen said, so we had scones with fresh cottage cream and Earl Grey tea in lovely porcelain cups with the design of the very typical English red rose on them. It's surely not the tea that I remember, what I still recall is the experience of having tea with scones in the late afternoon of a beautiful summer's day in England. Incidentally, Jane Austen lived in Bath for a fairly long time but did not really like the place.

THE TEA CUP

After partaking of the tea and feeling very delighted with ourselves, we went back to our car, the one which we had surreptitiously taken away from the garage, and made our way back to Cheltenham and our humdrum everyday existence.

In my next story my dear friend, I shall go back to the problem of the Driving License and share with you what happened on our journey to Stratford upon Avon. It is indeed an interesting episode and will surely keep you entertained and engrossed.

So that's it for now. 
Sayonara, So long, Farewell, See you soon, Namaste, Alvida, Shabba Khair.