Hi – a couple of posts ago I left you standing on the veranda of the old Birchenough Hotel; talked about old colonial-style furniture and eager dining room staff. What heady days they were and oh how much I miss them. Some of you may well remember the hand-cranked petrol pumps –two glass cylinders; one fills up while the other one empties?
I guess my being the hotel barman at sixteen would nowadays raise a few eyebrows, but I learned about life. Pouring drinks for thirsty travellers then waving them back on their way – usually with a slight wobble in their walk as well as their motor cars. We knew all the towns, villages and the distances between them. Even after thirty years away I still remember the time it took to reach them; the dips, bumps and twists in the road – can still hear the whine of tyres on hot tar. Nowadays, on those same roads it’s a case of ‘mind the potholes’ or at night, play the game of ‘let’s all drive without lights’ – saves on replacement lamps, I suppose. Guess that’s where the term, Dark Continent springs from...
those were the days my friend. You've just had me staring into space for the last half hour remembering stuff while I absent mindedly patted Wookie my cat.
ReplyDeleteHi G - Nothing like a good stare into space. Good for the soul.
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