Social Scene 321
Allan Jezzard Writes:-
The sun struggled to make itself known through the early morning mist.
At the car park meeting place, there were ghostly images of little cars and pairs of people shuffling around and slapping their sides in attempts to generate some warmth.
Ribald comments seemed to be the order of the day. Apparently, folk were being persuaded to go “topless”. Much scurrying ensues and the shape of the cars begins to change. Latecomers arrive to be welcomed by much catcalling. Eventually a very assertive driver called Gee-el orders everyone to start their engines. Most do. Some try. A few fail.
Those that fail to start are mainly those who are referred to as “fivesnsixes”. I’m not sure, but I think there’s a bit more to it than that. Suddenly, amid clouds of acrid smoke and much coughing and popping all the “fivesnsixes” roared out of the car park leaving all the other drivers (who had got out of their cars to help) to rush back to their own cars and roar after the fivesnsixes.
After half an hour or so, we had left what most people regard as civilisation behind and were snaking through the pleasant East Anglian countryside. The sun, now operating at almost full power, was not only warming the air but also glinting off what I could now see was multi-coloured and immaculate bodywork and chrome. I was expecting bird song but what I heard was just as pleasing, a symphony of pipe music accompanied by wafts of delicate perfume!
Every now and then, there is a pause in progress. Everybody seems to know the moves, the line comes to a halt, drivers jump out, one bonnet is raised and several heads peer into the warm and ticking interior. Meanwhile, passengers alight slowly and gather in groups, I believe discussing the previous night’s question time or an interview with Robert Peston. The gathering under the bonnet has grown in numbers now and someone is waving around an octopus like “creature” whilst others juggle with what, at first, I thought were hot chestnuts. In one such incident, it appeared someone was sampling fluid from little spouts. Accompanying this was a tinkling as the liquid seemed to need encouragement to dribble into a jam jar. Was this part of preparation for elevenses later in the morning? Eventually, everything was replaced and once the brains trust, still engrossed with last night’s telly, had been encouraged back into their cabins, the convoy continued.
The rest of the day was spent most pleasantly, eating, drinking and burnishing the cars to within an inch of their lives. Everybody enjoyed the company and the friendliness, and I awoke on the sofa at home listening to the latest distressing news of something called Coronavirus!
Keep your eyes on the website, Chris has finished his record of our last five years and changes the music every Monday. It will help pass the time during “lockdown”