Excellent descriptive writing, Matt. This line is a favorite: "The bus would draw its last breath in front of these shops that sold wine and chocolates and comic books and sweets: the real estate bastions of my childhood."
I loved every word of this, Matt. A nostalgic overwhelm that brought back so many of my own childhood excursions. Beautifully detailed! Thank you for getting us out of the house and taking us all along on the 44. Told with the joy of a child - just lovely.
This piece is so good it makes me wish you were in the room, where I'd encourage your best mate to give you a wedgie. Thanks for nostalgia, laughs, and a 'school bus' writing exercise that I'll do (just for myself). My bus ride was an hour long (council estate to the grammar school in the best town hoho) so it might take me a while... Roast Chicken crisps foreverandever!
That school bus ride would pass for a full day's worth of excitement/anxiety today! I'm not sure wedgies had yet become a thing when I was at school?! Roast Chicken Walker's... can you even get those today? (Thank you....)
Time travel … magical … I can still taste pickled onion Monster Munch. Life on RAF bases growing up gave way to a tiny boarding school from the age of 8 so my bus trips were on winding Devon lanes from Oakhampton station to the remote village our school drew its name from. By the time I’d reached Exeter by train from London, the sadness of goodbyes had given way to a nauseous anticipation of that bus journey.
Ah, so much of what I experienced as a kid was buttoned up in smaller boundaries, the bases with their wire fences and everything you need right here and school grounds limiting the ‘new’. Your piece has me reflecting on that. Maybe that’s where I get the travel bug?
That could well be where your bug comes from. And, contrarily, what makes me instinctively someone who likes to stay close to home.
Incidentally, thought of you and your commonplace book the other day with a quote heard on a podcast: “Never mistake a clear view for a short distance” (Paul Saffo). I thought you might already know but would certainly enjoy.
Oh excellent! I assume there’s a lot of people reading this and recalling various incidents, unless they were posh and travelled by car. Our buses meandered through various rival council estates so a trip to the town was half an hour of battling.
Oh dear! We did pass a few rival schools on the way to ours, which always resulted in zipping up our Regatta rain coats that little bit higher up the throat to conceal all of the school livery!
I loved this vivid account of scenes from your childhood. The bus was a mainstay in my life too, carrying me from home in the suburbs to downtown where my piano teacher awaited patiently my unpracticed concert of the week's lesson. I worked with a young woman who knew how to get anywhere in our western American city on the bus. I was in awe of her. I only knew my one bus route. Yet, we were free-range kids getting ourselves anywhere either on the bus or on foot or bicycle rather than pestering Mom for a ride. It's hard to imagine kids doing that today.
Thank you so much, Sue. And yes: no-one in the family could drive, so we went everywhere on foot or that bus or occasionally on our best friend's Grifter bike! That day when we dared to get on the first of those other hundred or so buses that took off in all directions across the city...!
what a lovely little gift each time - your writing1
Ivy: most grateful, thank you so much.
Excellent descriptive writing, Matt. This line is a favorite: "The bus would draw its last breath in front of these shops that sold wine and chocolates and comic books and sweets: the real estate bastions of my childhood."
Thanks so much, K.C.
I loved every word of this, Matt. A nostalgic overwhelm that brought back so many of my own childhood excursions. Beautifully detailed! Thank you for getting us out of the house and taking us all along on the 44. Told with the joy of a child - just lovely.
That's such a lovely generous comment, thank you Sharron. So glad you enjoyed.
Brilliant as ever Matt - 'half-penny chews and everlasting gobstoppers' are two of my favourite things
Thank you, Mark. 'Black Jack tongue' and pools of lurid-coloured JawBreaker saliva two of mine!
Black Jack tongue! Oh my god, yes. I forgot that. And a taffy - peanut butter candy called Abba-zabba, that nearly pulled our teeth out of our heads.
I think Abba-Zabbas might have passed me buy: although sounds like that might be something my dentist will be grateful for!
This piece is so good it makes me wish you were in the room, where I'd encourage your best mate to give you a wedgie. Thanks for nostalgia, laughs, and a 'school bus' writing exercise that I'll do (just for myself). My bus ride was an hour long (council estate to the grammar school in the best town hoho) so it might take me a while... Roast Chicken crisps foreverandever!
That school bus ride would pass for a full day's worth of excitement/anxiety today! I'm not sure wedgies had yet become a thing when I was at school?! Roast Chicken Walker's... can you even get those today? (Thank you....)
Time travel … magical … I can still taste pickled onion Monster Munch. Life on RAF bases growing up gave way to a tiny boarding school from the age of 8 so my bus trips were on winding Devon lanes from Oakhampton station to the remote village our school drew its name from. By the time I’d reached Exeter by train from London, the sadness of goodbyes had given way to a nauseous anticipation of that bus journey.
Your writing transports, as ever, Matt.
Thanks, Barrie. Those first journeys and the thrill of demarcating home and what was new.
Ah, so much of what I experienced as a kid was buttoned up in smaller boundaries, the bases with their wire fences and everything you need right here and school grounds limiting the ‘new’. Your piece has me reflecting on that. Maybe that’s where I get the travel bug?
That could well be where your bug comes from. And, contrarily, what makes me instinctively someone who likes to stay close to home.
Incidentally, thought of you and your commonplace book the other day with a quote heard on a podcast: “Never mistake a clear view for a short distance” (Paul Saffo). I thought you might already know but would certainly enjoy.
Now that is a quote to roll around in my brain as I pedal out today!
Oh yes, I was speaking to the thoughtful encourager but forgetting the wilting cyclist in you! 😂
I’ll be needing some encouragement myself as I set out on my once-a-month 100+ kilometre ride!
Oh excellent! I assume there’s a lot of people reading this and recalling various incidents, unless they were posh and travelled by car. Our buses meandered through various rival council estates so a trip to the town was half an hour of battling.
Oh dear! We did pass a few rival schools on the way to ours, which always resulted in zipping up our Regatta rain coats that little bit higher up the throat to conceal all of the school livery!
Haha, yes, the same here, but I had a black Hartington.
Ah, a style icon even then! Mod or punk?
Oh yea. Punk, and I dyed my hair bright blonde. But because I was tall I looked like a lamp post.
Ahh, a perilous bus journey indeed! 😉
Beautiful storytelling Matt 🌟
Thank you, Emma.
Ooof, this gave me all the nostalgic feels. Lovely.
I love to think there are display stands somewhere today in a parallel world that still spin those same Bib Fortuna and Ree Yees figures...
Loved this piece. Brought back memories of my own childhood growing up in Daventry, Northamptonshire
Thank you, Christine... we were not separated by so very many miles! Maybe you day-tripped into Birmingham once or twice too!?
I loved this vivid account of scenes from your childhood. The bus was a mainstay in my life too, carrying me from home in the suburbs to downtown where my piano teacher awaited patiently my unpracticed concert of the week's lesson. I worked with a young woman who knew how to get anywhere in our western American city on the bus. I was in awe of her. I only knew my one bus route. Yet, we were free-range kids getting ourselves anywhere either on the bus or on foot or bicycle rather than pestering Mom for a ride. It's hard to imagine kids doing that today.
Thank you so much, Sue. And yes: no-one in the family could drive, so we went everywhere on foot or that bus or occasionally on our best friend's Grifter bike! That day when we dared to get on the first of those other hundred or so buses that took off in all directions across the city...!