Fifty years ago: Thursday, 27th May 1976
(Sedbergh School, Age 14)
After the morning bell, I gave it ten minutes before I got dressed. As I’m out of school for the day, I have to wear a tie and a school tweed jacket.
Breakfast.
I had someone coming to pick me up at 8:15am, before school. It was Dad’s car, a gold coloured Mercedes SLK, but not Dad. It was Chris, who runs the farm, which is part of the Appleby Estate.
I didn’t recognise Chris at first – he had a beard.
We got talking about jobs and careers: he told me about his music ideas and writing. I’d just got some stuff from the RAF.
Chris ran me up the M6 to Carlisle and dropped me at the station. I’d get the train across to Newcastle and meet Mum there.
I read the stuff on the RAF on the train. It was a short-lived fad, this idea that I’d join the RAF. Both my grandfather and great-uncle had served in the RAF when it was first formed in the First World War – it had come on a bit since then!
I saw Mowden from the train window. Well, in the vicinity as we went through Stockafield.
Mum looks at my hair and says, “Oh, it’ll grow back”. Had it been thoughts of the RAF that had me cut it short?
The views coming into Newcastle by train from the west aren’t the prettiest.
Mum makes me a coffee—Nescafé instant with a lot of milk—no sugar.
The garden looks superb. Is it late September or early summer?
My sister gets in from school. She’s had a haircut, too! It used to be long. I think it’s much nicer short.
Dentist. All he does is tighten the brace.
I have a bit of time at home, so I planted some veg: seeds that should come through before I’m back at the end of June.
I took some cassettes from my room and a squash racket.
I read on the train.
Once again, I’m picked up at Carlisle, and I’m back in school in time for Prep.
It shows that a day trip is possible with some coordination of lifts. You can’t do it on public transport alone.
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