After travelling up by the overnight train from Euston, watching dawn break over the Southern Uplands from the train window, we met up with Ron Johnson, the lecturer who was in charge of the trip. "Tomorrow - urban survey. You'll be dropped off in pairs. You'll note down land use, date of buildings (estimated), any history you can discover. You'll be given a map. You'll fill it in. I'll meet up with you during the day. Any questions? No? Good."
Next morning was greyer, wetter and colder than anything ever experienced south of Hadrian's Wall. Phil and I sat at the back of the coach as each pair were turned out into the freezing Airdrie rain. We were the last pair to be evicted. We stood shivering beneath a bus shelter. The windows in the shelter were all broken allowing the wind and the rain to unleash its full fury on us. "We can do the survey from here," enthused Phillip, "Date of buildings - old. Land use - derelict. Interesting historical background - deserted by Picts in 8th century!" Eventually we took the map out from the plastic bag, thoughtfully provided to keep our work dry, and wrote down a few sparse details, estimating the date of the pub opposite as about 1850 and noting down some of the shops we could see through the veil of rain without getting ourselves drowned.
A terrible coughing sound came from the pub door and was closely followed by a grey-faced man unlocking the doors for the morning. "We could always..." I said to no one in particular: Phil was already half way across the road. We bought a pint each and sat at a corner table. Three men came inand stood at the bar. Number One: a huge, brawny man with a face like an over-mature Stilton cheese. Number Two: a tall, angular man with greasy hair and a scar. Number Three: a small man of advanced years with an even more experienced cloth cap. "Ye don't come from roond here" stated Cheesehead in a menacing tone. We explained we were from London. "Why would ye come here then?" asked Scarface. We tried to explain about the survey, field trip, geography, maps, that sort of thing. "Show me" demanded The Cap. So we did.
"Pub was built in 1847, not 1850" said The Cap as if he remembered it well. "Rest of this street is bookmaker's, tobacconist, pet shop, chip shop, grocer, pawnbrokers, then Mackay's car repairs. Used to be owned by his dad, Angus, mended bikes. And before that his father, also Angus, shoed horses." Scarface and Cheesehead also helped out filling in all the adjacent streets and after an hour, and a beer or two, our map was complete, with a fine collection of anecdotes about every boozer, bookie, barbershop and baccy-shop within a two mile radius. In fact Cheesehead had continued our map by drawing with spilled ale in the dust on the bar and he strategically placed beer mats, ashtrays and crisp-packets to represent pubs and other important buildings which our map could not accommodate.
We hurried back to the bus shelter to meet with Ron Johnson at the appointed time. Ron whistled, "My goodness, you've done brilliantly; everyone else is soaked to the skin and their maps are all sodden." "We used this" said Phil, brandishing a completely dry plastic bag. "We sprinted from one doorway to another" I added hopefully. "Lets convene to the pub" said Ron. It seemed a splendid idea till we realised that we were heading back to the bar we'd just left.
Our new friends looked up as we entered. They'd never been to university, but I bet they'd bunked off school a time or two and with an instant grasp of the situation they turned back to their drinks without a word. Our mentor never said anything to suggest that he'd suspected anything amiss either. "It's supposed to brighten up this afternoon," he remarked, "if you'd like to explore the area further....." We remembered that a football match, Airdrieonians v. Berwick Rangers, had been mentioned in the course of our morning researches, the afternoon suddenly looked a little more promising.
In a tutorial a year later, when another student was discussing some of the difficulties of doing surveys, Ron turned towards me and winked, "More than one way of doing surveys though, isn't there, John."
Take care.
Great story. One of the best reads on a blog in a long time for me. Thanks!
ReplyDeleteEnjoyed reading this - you got very lucky in that pub. There's nothing like a bit of local knowledge though:)
ReplyDeleteOne of the great sociological classics, Street Corner Society by William F. Whyte, used this exact same methodology to gain inside knowledge of the young men hanging out in the neighborhood. Great story.
ReplyDeleteJohn; A witty bit of recollection. As 'outlanders' here in Kentucky we've found the best way to learn about our neighborhhod is the chance encounters with some of the 'old boys' who become quite garrulous with vintage gossip. As to the truth of some of it---who knows?
ReplyDeletegreat writing and reading John; made me chuckle, I could just imagine. You remembered this like it was yesterday; I loved it! Your characters are indelible in your mind forever it seems. I'm sure the stories don't stop there, that there's a book in you.
ReplyDeleteBrilliant, John, and the little twist at the end was perfect. I agree you have a book in you, and this story can either be a chapter or a stand-alone, publishable short story. Jim
ReplyDeleteToday's post is an instant classic, John. I enjoyed it thoroughly.
ReplyDeleteThese blogs are great fun because people are creative in such different ways. You are a master in my category of "story tellers."
Lovely story John - shows he was not as daft as he made out to be.
ReplyDeleteWhat a brilliant story! I love the descriptions you gave of men and what a genius idea to save yourselves a soaking, hehe!
ReplyDeleteGreat story ...I love the willow photo on the earlier post ...stunning.
ReplyDeleteThis is a story for the ages! And your character sketches are priceless John :^)
ReplyDeleteGreat story, peopled with wonderful characters.
ReplyDeleteWhat a fun little story. I really like your line drawings - can't help but smile when I see them. Hope we get to read more tales written by you.
ReplyDeletenicely written and wonderfully illistrated
ReplyDeleteHa! Love your tale! How fortunate the lecturer agreed there's more than one way to do a survey.
ReplyDeleteThank you all for such positive comments. I could certainly never have the patience and resolve, never mind the ability, to write a book! But there are other tales inside this addled brain which might just escape from time to time.
ReplyDeleteA great yarn
ReplyDeleteI'm going to "follow" you after that one, John. It was great. I wish I could draw, but my drawing skills are hopeless.
ReplyDeleteWhen I attended a professional conference in Liverpool in 1999, I met a representative of the Border Forest Trust, an organization in the Southern Highlands that is restoring native forest to the Carrifran valley east of Moffatt. I became a member and supporter, and receive their newsletters regularly. They sponsor a lot of tree planting forays, and I'm frequently tempted to hop a plane to Glasgow and pitch in--until I read follow-up stories about the planting conditions, which are usually exactly as you described in your story.
John, reading your post and admiring your clever sketches has been a delightful way to start my day. Thanks for sharing this entertaining piece of nostalgia - please keep them coming!
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed your story and sketches very much, John! I think you should publish a book--it would definitely be a hit!
ReplyDeleteJohn, that was a great story!!! I like the stories that run around in your "addled brain"!!! They are very entertaining and make me remember my school days!! I wish I was as clever as you and Phil were!
ReplyDeleteSounds exactly like the best way to do a survey to me : ) Great story!!
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