California drawl; you can’t miss it, especially when attached to a tall man kitted out to look like the tramper-fisherman. At Carlisle train station he started talking to two men about how you can walk down the train lines and it’s perfectly safe as long as every few miles you rest your boot on a rail to feel the tremor of an oncoming train. Now that theory would make any train driver shudder, and the man’s wallet if they caught him.
Unfortunately he selected the same carriage as me, but a few rows down, facing an unsuspecting victim. ‘These seats are designed for Vietnamese, don’t you think? A Pacific Islander would never fit in here. They’re big fellows.’ He didn’t seem to hear the gasp from fellow passengers. His booming voice continued, praising UK as a hiking and fishing spot, with all it’s history, adding ‘It’s so old. USA doesn’t have history 2000 years old.’ Um… the Red Indians?
Two, maybe fortunate, things happened just then. Firstly, my station came up, and secondly, a lass of about twenty (seeing my intention) said to me ‘don’t bother, he’s not worth it.’ I was going to call him out, loudly. There would have been a scene. I regret not doing it. Better coming from me than anyone still riding on the train, and I can get away with stuff, being nearly old.
The UK is a delicious pot pourri of cultural backgrounds, and has been since before the Roman’s arrived. And the story continues. The Romanian stewardess on a Lakes district cruise boat first came to the UK as a housemaid for a nearby hotel, but quickly gained her dream job, outside, helping people and with great views.
And what views!
Walkers, boaties, and picnicers; with two pound bus fares, everyone can enjoy the area. They may not be able to afford to stay, or eat take-out though. Gold-rimmed prices that come with a free view.
Though this sign confused; which of the two categories does the pictured boat come into?
Bus drivers in the Lakes district have magic wands to suck their monoliths sides in through narrow lanes and past less-skilled motorists. Next time ride on top, for a better view of every village they wind through. These local buses may seem slower, but so much more rewarding.
Maybe they feel the same pride as the builders of the steep stone walls which disappear into the clouds.
Lancaster. 4.30pm on a Sunday afternoon. The public toilets at the packed bus station are locked. It’s not the bus company’s fault; council operates the toilets. Sainsbury’s toilet provides an opportunity, but by the time you’re done they’ve closed the checkout.
The Royal Kings Arms lovely staff and bedroom barely make up for the moldy ensuite. Their lift has two vintage metal slide doors which you open by hand, then close by hand behind you. If someone hasn’t shut the doors after use, there the lift will stay, until a staff member runs up the stairs to fix it. There are five floors. That’s five above the ground floor.
Down the road, a Thai (?) Wok place offered chow mein. Tall, skinny, 20’s Jason was front of house. Hair back in a short pony tail, and clothes suited to most front of house, he looked the part. But poor Jason’s mind was elsewhere. He didn’t see the dirty dishes on table six until his mother pointed it out. Loudly. She was tiny, busy, with eyes not just in the back of her head. She spoke in Thai, or broken English, and genuinely seemed to struggle with English when responding to a customer who was asking about the ingredients in a dish before ordering. But then, not two minutes later, when taking an order from a sit-in larger group, her English was perfect.
Williamson Park… check out what’s special:
The Pavillion is nice enough, but what’s special is the man in the purple shirt. Retired now, his story is so familiar. Didn’t get on at school; physical education teachers in particular were masochists with clipboards, gleefully watching boys sweat it out for a pass, or more likely , a fail. After leaving school, this man, and several of his ‘failed’ peers, went on to become successful businessmen, builders, company owners etc. Five years on from retirement, he’s set in a regime of twenty times up and down those steps every day. Twenty times. Grit, sweat, determination.
Unlike the frog, who resembled a plastic toy until he took a breath:
And then there’s this bloke, from Asia apparently:
He’s safely tucked away from local flora and fauna, just as New Zealand is trying to keep unintended species like koi from entering our biodiversity. The koi examples at Williamson Park are bigger than NZ trout, and capable of decimating native waterways forever.
A ticket seller under pressure at Lancaster station handed over a ticket for Liverpool that said via Preston , but he said change at Wigan. In a crowded train it’s harder to spot the person who might be able to help. Wigan. Rush along the platform, down the lift, under the tracks, up the lift, and into the train leaving immediately for Liverpool. However, so nice to be back in the calm of a local train that stops everywhere.
A young 2nd-generation taxi driver proudly showed off parts of Liverpool as we go by. Passion creates enthusiasm. Then came an exploratory comment; the area we’re going to is heavily middle-eastern. It scares some people, but just remember these are folk like us, just trying to get on in the world, with families and community intact. Wise words from a young man. He’s right. A stroll to the store revealed a pot pouri of ethnically-based stores with foods strange to the western tongue. Yet so much is the same; tinned peaches from ‘The Babylonia food store’ tasted exactly as any other.
Stories for you - Enjoy! 