Hi Everybody Joe and Muriel kick-started my memory into gear with their so graphic descriptions of the trams and buses in Coventry. As most of you know my childhood was spent in NW London and we were blessed with some cheerful bus conductors who kept up something of a running commentary rather than a conversation with the passengers. Although it was many years ago I can still remember a couple of their witticisms. The trolleybus conductor who as the ' trolley ' approached Child's Hill would call out "Child's 'ill, call the doctor!" and the conductor on the 28 bus route who, as the stop for West Hampstead Cemetery loomed, would shout "West Hampstead Cemetery! Any more for the Underground!" And the terrifying noise of the trams as they passed under the railway at Cricklewood. As a four year old I hated them and was so pleased to see them replaced with the splendid new trolleybuses. When I was much older and worked in London I came to like the trams and was sorry to see them go. Of course its all right reminiscing but if you had to cycle on a tram route the tracks were a nightmare and having your wheel stuck in a tram rail whilst a noisy, clanging tram bore down upon you was not much fun. The following extract from 'My Story' (a personal memoir for my grandchildren) gives another angle on the trolleybuses. I remember London fogs. So thick that it was hard to see more than a yard or two and so mucky that a handkerchief tied over your mouth and nose became filthy in minutes. Going to school by trolleybus was almost impossible so I would set out to walk going from one lamppost to the next. Sometimes I would come across a chain of perhaps half a dozen ‘trollies’ following one another nose to tail with the leader following a bus inspector or conductor carrying a blazing torch of pitch as he walked a pace or two ahead of the following bus. If I were thus fortunate I would jump aboard and hope that they would keep going until they reached Finchley. I would not get to school any quicker but at least I did not have to walk and there was always the chance that the fog would lift a little as we moved further into the outer suburbs. Hold very tight please! Ding! Ding! Len

In message <111.40e149cd.2f0d3ed3@aol.com>, LenDenham@aol.com writes > As most of you know my childhood >was spent in NW London and we were blessed with some cheerful bus conductors >who kept up something of a running commentary rather than a conversation with >the passengers. Hi Len, Loved the description of your bus trips and their comical conductors. I think the trams had gone by the time I came to live in London (Highbury) at the end of 1959. I did catch the last of the really thick Pea Souper type fogs though. They were scary to me. There weren't so many by that time with the cleaner air regulations coming in. >Of course its >all right reminiscing but if you had to cycle on a tram route the tracks were >a nightmare and having your wheel stuck in a tram rail whilst a noisy, >clanging tram bore down upon you was not much fun. I never did that in London but when I went through Holland Germany and Denmark on my Lambretta in the early 1960's I did. I remember on a very wet day in Holland getting the wheel stuck in a tram line on a very busy road... and of course everything was happening on the wrong side of the road for me. The road bent round a corner at that particular point and I just had to go with it! I saw my travelling companions going on in quite a different direction. I was afraid for a while but was then pleased to find that the road I had got shunted onto re-joined the other one about 300 yards later and I caught them up. Talk about luck! This week I have been reading a book by Pip Grainger called Not all Tarts are Apple. She was brought up living over a cafe in Great Compton Street, Soho. It has been fun reading her tale and remembering my jaunts to the area before I came to London to live. We used to travel up to London from Coventry for the day to eat at Schmidt's German restaurant in Charlotte St... long since gone, to my great regret. We used to wander around the area quite happily for hours.... not sure I would do that now! Because she actually lived in the area her tales are very real. Dorothy -- Dorothy Gibbs (in Hertfordshire UK)