Another day of driving. This time I’m heading south – well south of Glasgow. I’ve ended up in the Premier Inn in Kilmarnock and am very happy to have a room. I’d planned to travel a bit further south than this, but the blocking high didn’t reach this far north. As darkness fell, the rain came down in torrents and then piled up on the side of the roads just right for aquaplaning. So I was happy to see the sign for a Premier Inn although it took me three turns round Kilmarnock and a detour through the hospital car park before I found the hotel entrance. But I’m off the road, in the warm, Strictly on the telly and a nice cup of tea. Who could ask for more?
I’m always sad to leave the Highlands, the landscape is beautiful and the people are a delight. With the Tory conference next week, doubtless there will be lots of talk about the ‘big society’. But in the Highlands society is small and strong. Lots of things are run by the community – the shops, the public loos, village halls – and they seem to work well. It works and works well, but I’m not sure how well it would work in modern middle Britain. There aren’t many people living at the edges of the country and people know one another. People chat, and help each other. Sociability seems to be inversely correlated with shopping opportunity and I still can’t work out which is driving which. Is it working long hours to keep shops open that means people have neither the time nor energy for anything else? Or is it the lack of shopping that drives people to connect with others and spend time on singing/dancing/chatting/doing things?
On my way south I stopped in Fort William. It’s always been a rather strange town, a place where people stop briefly and the gateway to the highlands. It’s never felt like a rich town, but after three years of recession it is looking rather battered. There used to be a number of the chain stores, but most of these have gone. There’s a Tesco metro, Boots and W H Smith, but other than that only the outdoor shops are still there. There are lots of empty shops and the opticians/bookies/charity shop combination that are typical of struggling towns are here.
I skirted Glasgow and came along the Ayrshire coast. Port Glasgow and Greenock were busy with people heading home for the weekend. By the time I got to Wemyss Bay and Largs industry had shifted to leisure. Houses face the sea, ferries and candy floss. But further along the coast and the towns seem to be struggling to find their place. But then darkness and rain fall and I take shelter.
Friday, 30 September 2011
Thursday 29th September
After days of long drives I decided to take the day off and stay locally but I still ended up driving almost 100 miles. Up in the Highlands most things are a long way away. The mobile library arrived in Shieldaig just after breakfast and seemed to be doing a roaring trade. Books and news being exchanged in equal measure. I was still on a quest for a post office and discovered that whilst there is a mobile bank (as well as the mobile library) there is, as yet, no mobile post office. Plenty of places that sell books of first and second class stamps but anything more exotic means a 15 mile drive to find a post office.
I’ve become convinced that the world of work is likely to change for many people. Regular, full-time jobs with regular full time benefits are likely to become a thing of the past. Jobs will be less reliable and many people will have to have more than one job to make ends meet. At the edges of Britain (and on display up here) is the multijob worker. The nice lady who serves breakfast today works at a doctor’s surgery other days/times. Many of the farms also do bed & breakfast or offer smoked salmon, seafood to make their living a little easier. But signs that say ‘closed from 2nd October – Easter’ remind that earnings from a good summer don’t go far when spread across the year. In the winter it’s cheaper to close than keep the heating going. And the ‘big society’ seems to be the norm up here. Perhaps it’s the lack of shopping that means people have more time to give. Shops are owned by the community and run by volunteers. Petrol pumps and jetties are owned by the community. I buy the most expensive petrol I’ve seen in Applecross to help support the project (142.9p a litre), if the market is so efficient why do basics cost more in places where they are most needed?
I find Lochcarron and the post office and stock up on stamps (when travelling I buy books of 100, likely to wipe out the stock of the little shops who stock stamps). There are strings of cottages along the side of the loch, many have satellite dishes all pointed in the same direction. I assume satellite is the best way to pick up the internet as well as programmes. Strangely as I’ve travelled north I’ve seen more and more solar panels on roofs. You’d think there was not enough sun up here, but that can’t be true. I have no idea whether it’s driven by keeping bills down or a desire to preserve the environment. There’s more signs of recycling than in the cities. Perhaps it’s as simple as landfill being close enough to smell it. I have no idea where my waste goes in London. I try to recycle as much as possible, but all I know is that it gets taken away. In rural areas it gets dumped within smelling distance – a real incentive to reduce landfill.
The cloud base is low and I’m not brave enough to take the high road to Applecross (caravans and learner drivers are banned) but the low road is plenty steep enough for me. A close encounter with a fuel lorry is disconcerting but other than making me even more wary about blind summits all is well. There are plenty of sheep and Highland cattle who regard the road as their territory rather than belonging to the motorists. But the real excitement is that Brad Pitt is filming locally. Apparently he’d been into the local pub and no-one recognised him. Now everyone is on the lookout.
I’ve become convinced that the world of work is likely to change for many people. Regular, full-time jobs with regular full time benefits are likely to become a thing of the past. Jobs will be less reliable and many people will have to have more than one job to make ends meet. At the edges of Britain (and on display up here) is the multijob worker. The nice lady who serves breakfast today works at a doctor’s surgery other days/times. Many of the farms also do bed & breakfast or offer smoked salmon, seafood to make their living a little easier. But signs that say ‘closed from 2nd October – Easter’ remind that earnings from a good summer don’t go far when spread across the year. In the winter it’s cheaper to close than keep the heating going. And the ‘big society’ seems to be the norm up here. Perhaps it’s the lack of shopping that means people have more time to give. Shops are owned by the community and run by volunteers. Petrol pumps and jetties are owned by the community. I buy the most expensive petrol I’ve seen in Applecross to help support the project (142.9p a litre), if the market is so efficient why do basics cost more in places where they are most needed?
I find Lochcarron and the post office and stock up on stamps (when travelling I buy books of 100, likely to wipe out the stock of the little shops who stock stamps). There are strings of cottages along the side of the loch, many have satellite dishes all pointed in the same direction. I assume satellite is the best way to pick up the internet as well as programmes. Strangely as I’ve travelled north I’ve seen more and more solar panels on roofs. You’d think there was not enough sun up here, but that can’t be true. I have no idea whether it’s driven by keeping bills down or a desire to preserve the environment. There’s more signs of recycling than in the cities. Perhaps it’s as simple as landfill being close enough to smell it. I have no idea where my waste goes in London. I try to recycle as much as possible, but all I know is that it gets taken away. In rural areas it gets dumped within smelling distance – a real incentive to reduce landfill.
The cloud base is low and I’m not brave enough to take the high road to Applecross (caravans and learner drivers are banned) but the low road is plenty steep enough for me. A close encounter with a fuel lorry is disconcerting but other than making me even more wary about blind summits all is well. There are plenty of sheep and Highland cattle who regard the road as their territory rather than belonging to the motorists. But the real excitement is that Brad Pitt is filming locally. Apparently he’d been into the local pub and no-one recognised him. Now everyone is on the lookout.
Wednesday 28th September
The sun is still shining when I wake and the rabbits are still breakfasting. The fishing boats have all headed out for their day’s work but most people are still asleep. I have a long way to drive and so head off in good time. I follow the A1 north along the coast and admire yet another glorious day. I have foregone socks and returned to sandals and sleeveless tops and it is still too hot. Trusty Ka clocks 100,000 miles after we cross the Scottish border. Sterling service from a small car designed to be driven in a city. It’s taken me up hill and down dale and across rather too many fields. And there are a few hundred more miles to go today.
The Forth Bridge sees the first hundred miles complete and I stop for coffee in North Queensferry, slightly too early for the (gluten free) chocolate brownies which are still baking. I try to check messages but getting a phone signal is elusive and being able to pick up email even more difficult. It may be the 21st century but the internet is for people who stay home with a broadband connection. The weather remains sunny but as I travel further north farmers are still harvesting the crops. In the south, the harvesting is done and everything ready for next year’s crop. Up here there are still combines in the fields and plenty of tractors trundling along the roads.
I take the A9 north and Inverness is 120 miles away – and I’ll have another 70 miles or more after that. So I keep driving. Farmland, moorland, Cairngorms, Highlands, hills, dales, peat bogs, distilleries, more farms, more hills and heather and still the road goes on. Eventually I get to Inverness and stop at Tesco. Here, wonder of wonders, I manage to find a post office and buy a stamp to send a birthday card to the US. I have been carrying this card for weeks but there is a distinct shortage of post offices these days, and those that still exist have long queues. Now the card is on its way – hope it arrives before Christmas.
Then it’s back on the road and now heading west – not such a good idea as the sun is setting and much of the time it’s hard to see anything but how smeary the windscreen has become. Glorious evening but want to get to my hotel in Sheildaig before dark – the last 20 miles or so are on single track roads. This usually means peat bogs and/or sheer drop on either side, no reassuring cat’s eyes and locals who have inch perfect knowledge of the roads. In daylight these are great driving roads, after dark it’s rather more scary. The sun is setting fast and the hills are soaking up the last of the light. I make it to the hotel by twilight and have local scallops for supper. And now to sleep, it’s been a long day and I’ve driven more than 300 miles. Time for a rest.
The Forth Bridge sees the first hundred miles complete and I stop for coffee in North Queensferry, slightly too early for the (gluten free) chocolate brownies which are still baking. I try to check messages but getting a phone signal is elusive and being able to pick up email even more difficult. It may be the 21st century but the internet is for people who stay home with a broadband connection. The weather remains sunny but as I travel further north farmers are still harvesting the crops. In the south, the harvesting is done and everything ready for next year’s crop. Up here there are still combines in the fields and plenty of tractors trundling along the roads.
I take the A9 north and Inverness is 120 miles away – and I’ll have another 70 miles or more after that. So I keep driving. Farmland, moorland, Cairngorms, Highlands, hills, dales, peat bogs, distilleries, more farms, more hills and heather and still the road goes on. Eventually I get to Inverness and stop at Tesco. Here, wonder of wonders, I manage to find a post office and buy a stamp to send a birthday card to the US. I have been carrying this card for weeks but there is a distinct shortage of post offices these days, and those that still exist have long queues. Now the card is on its way – hope it arrives before Christmas.
Then it’s back on the road and now heading west – not such a good idea as the sun is setting and much of the time it’s hard to see anything but how smeary the windscreen has become. Glorious evening but want to get to my hotel in Sheildaig before dark – the last 20 miles or so are on single track roads. This usually means peat bogs and/or sheer drop on either side, no reassuring cat’s eyes and locals who have inch perfect knowledge of the roads. In daylight these are great driving roads, after dark it’s rather more scary. The sun is setting fast and the hills are soaking up the last of the light. I make it to the hotel by twilight and have local scallops for supper. And now to sleep, it’s been a long day and I’ve driven more than 300 miles. Time for a rest.
Heading north - Tuesday 27th September
I started the day in Stamford – it’s a very pretty town that wears its Georgian past well and has been used as the site of many BBC literary adaptations. It looks and feels like an affluent town – lots of upmarket independent shops and gift shops run by expensive looking women in white jeans and extensive jewellery. Little sign of recession here, although who knows how life looks on the edge of town.
Stamford seems to be place for the ‘comfortable middle class’. No-one ever seems to think they are rich – ‘we’re comfortable’ seems to be the way that the rich (not the super-rich) like to describe themselves. Nothing too flashy, just ‘comfortable’. These are the people who seem to be least affected by the downturn. Although there has been lots of discussion about what an easy the Boomer generation have had, it seems to be the generation before who have benefited most and who are most comfortable. They are the people who are on holiday now – older, no kids at home, ‘comfortable’. Homes paid off long ago and worth vastly more than they paid, final salary pensions, savings. They lived through tough times when they were young but as adults their timing was perfect.
My plan was to head north and I needed to make a faster start than the day before. The A1 was close and the perfect road north. By lunchtime I was on Teeside – I love the view as you drive towards Middlesbrough. There isn’t much industry left in Britain, or at least what there is tends to be small scale. But not Middlesbrough – here the scale is still mass. I’m not sure how much is still operating but the scale of the buildings is vast. Still making steel as far as I can tell. Corus with a large banner at the gate saying ‘Passionate about steel’. Owned by Tata and now an Indian company, but that needn’t stop the passion.
I stopped off in Saltburn – a different world to Stamford. The average age is about the same but Saltburn is a Victorian town, one man’s vision of a town built onto a village known to smugglers. There now seem to be lots of retirement flats and nursing homes. Things look a bit tatty but the sea air is tough on buildings and it seems a cheery place. There are plenty of walking sticks, a sign of hips and knees worn and torn by a lifetime of physical work. But there are also lots of chatting and laughter and people walking their dogs on the beach. If the owners are slower than they used to be, the dogs are not. They are doing enough leaping and bounding for everyone.
Back on the road and heading north towards the border. It’s a beautiful autumn day and the coast road seems a good idea. It’s a slowed but prettier drive but it’s a long way and I’m glad to get to Seahouses and find a room for the night. The views are spectacular – I can see Bamburgh Castle, Holy Island and the Farne Islands along the horizon.
Stamford seems to be place for the ‘comfortable middle class’. No-one ever seems to think they are rich – ‘we’re comfortable’ seems to be the way that the rich (not the super-rich) like to describe themselves. Nothing too flashy, just ‘comfortable’. These are the people who seem to be least affected by the downturn. Although there has been lots of discussion about what an easy the Boomer generation have had, it seems to be the generation before who have benefited most and who are most comfortable. They are the people who are on holiday now – older, no kids at home, ‘comfortable’. Homes paid off long ago and worth vastly more than they paid, final salary pensions, savings. They lived through tough times when they were young but as adults their timing was perfect.
My plan was to head north and I needed to make a faster start than the day before. The A1 was close and the perfect road north. By lunchtime I was on Teeside – I love the view as you drive towards Middlesbrough. There isn’t much industry left in Britain, or at least what there is tends to be small scale. But not Middlesbrough – here the scale is still mass. I’m not sure how much is still operating but the scale of the buildings is vast. Still making steel as far as I can tell. Corus with a large banner at the gate saying ‘Passionate about steel’. Owned by Tata and now an Indian company, but that needn’t stop the passion.
I stopped off in Saltburn – a different world to Stamford. The average age is about the same but Saltburn is a Victorian town, one man’s vision of a town built onto a village known to smugglers. There now seem to be lots of retirement flats and nursing homes. Things look a bit tatty but the sea air is tough on buildings and it seems a cheery place. There are plenty of walking sticks, a sign of hips and knees worn and torn by a lifetime of physical work. But there are also lots of chatting and laughter and people walking their dogs on the beach. If the owners are slower than they used to be, the dogs are not. They are doing enough leaping and bounding for everyone.
Back on the road and heading north towards the border. It’s a beautiful autumn day and the coast road seems a good idea. It’s a slowed but prettier drive but it’s a long way and I’m glad to get to Seahouses and find a room for the night. The views are spectacular – I can see Bamburgh Castle, Holy Island and the Farne Islands along the horizon.
Monday, 26 September 2011
On the road again
Monday 26th September 2011
I have set off on a trip around Britain. It's been awhile since I was able to get away and see what is happening around the country, but if all goes according to plan I've got two weeks to travel.
I'm heading north and despite leaving rather later than planned today I'm now in Stamford. I arrived as it got dark so haven't had a chance to explore. Last time I was here I had been travelling for so long that Orange told me I was 'lost from the Birmingham hub' and spent much of the day in a phone box trying to discover why I had no mobile connection. Hopefully that won't happen again.
Because I was late setting out I didn't have much time to explore. I did stop for a very late lunch at Bicester village. It's a shopper's paradise - one of those strange collections of discount stores where the architecture seems to have come straight from the US. Although it's called a 'village' there is nothing of the village about it, it is entirely suburban in its structure. Everything is provided, parking is plentiful and spending power is the only power that counts.
The shops are more luxurious than I remember - designer labels aplenty. Although most of the designer products are last year's - this is obviously where they come to be transformed into bargains. And there are plenty of people wandering around with armfuls of smart carrier bags. Little sign of recession here - there are plenty of coaches in the car park. People are shopping en masse. There doesn't seem to be a recession here - but it's hard to tell. There are quite a lot of empty units but the signs talk of 'exciting new opportunities to open soon' - perhaps that translates as 'no-one to rent this shop'.
It did remind of the need to rely on public loos. The loos in Bicester village are very nice - more like a smart hotel. This is a luxury. When I travel I have to rely on public loos much of the time. This is not always a pleasant experience. Public loos reveal all sorts of things about a place. Metal mirrors that can't be broken, needle bins in towns you wouldn't expect to have a drug problem, occasionally there are flowers.
I have set off on a trip around Britain. It's been awhile since I was able to get away and see what is happening around the country, but if all goes according to plan I've got two weeks to travel.
I'm heading north and despite leaving rather later than planned today I'm now in Stamford. I arrived as it got dark so haven't had a chance to explore. Last time I was here I had been travelling for so long that Orange told me I was 'lost from the Birmingham hub' and spent much of the day in a phone box trying to discover why I had no mobile connection. Hopefully that won't happen again.
Because I was late setting out I didn't have much time to explore. I did stop for a very late lunch at Bicester village. It's a shopper's paradise - one of those strange collections of discount stores where the architecture seems to have come straight from the US. Although it's called a 'village' there is nothing of the village about it, it is entirely suburban in its structure. Everything is provided, parking is plentiful and spending power is the only power that counts.
The shops are more luxurious than I remember - designer labels aplenty. Although most of the designer products are last year's - this is obviously where they come to be transformed into bargains. And there are plenty of people wandering around with armfuls of smart carrier bags. Little sign of recession here - there are plenty of coaches in the car park. People are shopping en masse. There doesn't seem to be a recession here - but it's hard to tell. There are quite a lot of empty units but the signs talk of 'exciting new opportunities to open soon' - perhaps that translates as 'no-one to rent this shop'.
It did remind of the need to rely on public loos. The loos in Bicester village are very nice - more like a smart hotel. This is a luxury. When I travel I have to rely on public loos much of the time. This is not always a pleasant experience. Public loos reveal all sorts of things about a place. Metal mirrors that can't be broken, needle bins in towns you wouldn't expect to have a drug problem, occasionally there are flowers.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
