A day at the races… or two… or three…
Not long ago…..Picture the scene: A local female tennis player plus family arrive at the Uckers station…earlyish..
But, they are greeted by a geriatric hippie (his face seems familiar) carrying a rucksack the size of a bingo hall!
He mojo mumbles. They are confused. Has this poor wind- blown dude mistaken the date for the recently concluded Glastonbury? He hauls on a spliff that nearly ignites his pants. ‘Hell no’, he says in a fair imitation of Dolly Parton,’ My bag is Silverrstftoone, ye’all. (Family comprehension of all this proving difficult.) ‘Formulah Warne, you dig?’.
Family were going to town to celebrate daughter’s 22nd. Birthday. They walked briskly to the back of the train. Sighed and settled comfortably… UNTIL. The gentle strumming of an ill- tuned geetah and mouth organ wafted in on a breeze that would strip wallpaper. Ancient hippie rummages in rucksack. ‘Now, lookee here, we is goin’ all de way to Lundun Bridge… bet yo wanna see what I got here’ Desperate daughter says she wants to listen to the Blue Grass band who are getting off next stop to head the bill at the Helluvah Hever Festival. Family follow …….and wait for the next train.
Hippie train trundles into London Bridge. Transport Police summoned. Problems!!
The last three carriages enchanted by the ditty, D I V O R C E which has been transposed down a third and is now R O S B E R G. sung by our F1Boy….. Huge Hit!!!! They loved it!! Great start. Off to Paddington.
Episode 2 to come….arrival at Silverstone…wait for it….