Guest Blogger

Well since I seem to find myself busy with other things and don't get the time to update the blog, I think a guest blogger would be more than welcome to fill my size eleven boots for a while. So folks a big welcome to local celebrity and well known radio DJ cum Taxi driver Bill Clark.
Come on bill lets hear whats been going on whilst you have been out and about on the highways and byways of this corner of the UK.

Feathered Fare

Ive learnt that sometimes it's best not to ask whats in boxes when folk load them into the boot.
But the strange noises coming from a box that a passenger gently placed in my trunk today got my curiosity aroused. During the ride I asked about the strange clucking noises coming from the boot but my amused fare wouldn't tell what was in the box until we reached our destination.
Lifting the box out of the boot he took the cover off to reveal a pair of plump chickens. After I had snapped a photo of our feathered travelling companions I suddenly thought about the fate of the hapless pair, and said that I didn't want to be the one delivering them to their eggsacution. But my fare assured me that the birds weren't due for the chop just yet and were to be kept for their eggs.

Seasons Greetings

Hi Folks! Sorry to have been neglecting you for such a long while but I have been busy with other things. I seem to have hoodwinked myself into the management side of the taxi business and boy does it keep me busy! I have been spending less time out on the streets and as a result don't get to spend as much time gathering tales about our wonderful local characters. Bill another local cab-driver sent me this photo of "our Molly" who is without doubt the favorite fare of every local taxi driver. It seems that Molly is also a bit special to the many local town centre shopkeepers and market stallholders that she visits every day. They treat her like royalty and even took the time to decorate her much needed walking frame with sparkling Christmas decorations. If you look closely at the photo you may just notice that the twinkle in our Molly s eyes outshines the brightest tinsel. Things should quieten down in January and so I hope to be posting a bit more often then. Meanwhile compliments of the season and best wishes to everyone, and for those of you that have sent comments asking after me, sorry for not getting back sooner and thanks for the concern.
Cheers folks!

Lost Doggy

A rather mysterious large bulky brown envelope arrived at out taxi office this week. At first we were a bit nervous about opening it because of the strange shape that could be felt inside. When we finally decided that it probably wasn't a bomb our brave boss felt inside the package. He went a shade paler when he felt something slightly furry. But taking a deep breath he fearlessly hauled the unknown beast out of it's hiding place and we were confronted with a small version of the nodding dog mascot which you see on some folks car parcel shelves. Attached was a handwritten note which reads "This belongs to one of your drivers. Sorry!" So far he or she hasn't been claimed by any of our drivers and rumours are rife about the adventures of the lost doggy. Has a dog napping taken place, and the villain had a twinge of conscience? Has someone picked up the wrong dog by mistake or maybe a child took a fancy to our driver’s lucky mascot. The lost doggy is being held to ransom by the boss until the £1:50p shortfall that wasn't paid on the postage is handed over.

Grand and Petit Taxi's

This battered old Chevy is a more unusual example of the Moroccan Grand taxi, most seemed to be battered 70s vintage Mercedes. The Grand taxi can seat up to six passengers and has no meter, fares can be negotiated before you hire one. The other type of taxi of which two can be seen in the background is the Petit taxi, they can carry three passengers and have a meter fitted. The Petit taxi is only used within the city limits and are amazingly cheap,anywhere in town for about £1.80p.



The example below is a Grand Taxi spotted on a dusty highway way up in the Anti Atlas mountains.

Snails in Morocco

Well Morocco certainly turned out to be a bit of a culture shock in more ways than one.

 Firstly to witness the poverty and hardship which is endured by most Moroccans with a smile is a humbling experience. Some rural folk out in the desert still live as they did in biblical times, eking out a meagre living with herds of goats and making the trek to the distant water well by donkey. Looking out the window at the pouring down rain, which everyone has been moaning about here in Barrow is a stark contrast to a country where a lot of children have never even seen rain, the last decent downpour was nine years ago!

 Then at the other end of the scale we were told of an Arab multi billionaire who was spending tens of millions to move a giant cement factory, lock stock and barrel, ten miles up the road just because it spoils the view from his newly constructed huge luxury palace.

 Wondering down the beach promenade at night was at first a bit daunting even at one or two o-clock in the morning crowds of twenty or thirty thousand local folks were wondering about. After a while we noticed that most people were in family groups ranging from grandma down to young babes, all simply enjoying themselves. The very idea of even one family walking about late at night like this in Barrow town centre particularly down our infamous Gaza Strip just doesn't bear thinking about.

 What makes the big difference of course is that even though it is available most locals just don't touch alcohol. It really is refreshing to walk down the street at night and not have to dodge the pools of vomit and suffer the intimidating behavior of aggressive drunks.

 Walking down the prom on the last night I spotted something which brought back distant memories of trips to Walney beach and gathering winkles. A street vendor was selling freshly cooked bowls of the delicacy complete with the obligatory pin to tease them from the shells. After eating a half dozen or so it finally dawned on me that they weren't winkles at all, just common garden snails cooked in brine. The missus always said I would eat owt. I guess she is right.

Mystery M

For the last few weeks or so mysterious red stickers have been appearing on lampposts, windows and buildings etc the length and breadth of Barrow. The stickers consist of a red background and a curious white design which looks like the letter M scrawled by a drunk.

But finally I have gotten to the bottom of the mystery stickers; a source in the local nightclub scene has given me the low-down. He tells me that the long closed Martinis night club on Barrow's notorious Gaza Strip is undergoing a massive revamp and will open shortly in a new guise as Club- M. So the sticker campaign is a form of cheap and cheeky advertising campaign, 

I say cheeky because they have also been sneakily slapping them all over rival night clubs and bars.

The other sign which has appeared along the length of Barrow's Abbey road tells us that major road works are about to begin. I believe that bit and I believe the bit that tells us to expect long delays. But I really am having a hard time swallowing the outrageous claim that the road works will only last for ten weeks. Long suffering local motorists know for a fact that this optimistic claim is stretching credibility. We all know from the previous history of many similar signs that have appeared on our over excavated roads that this is nowt but a fairy story, with not a happy ending in sight.

Another Tin Shed

Now that Barrow's Mall frontage has been completed after its thirty year overdue renovation I have been asking my fares what they think of the new look. The vast majority like me think it’s a cheap and nasty bodge up. Comments from my fares include “It doesn't go with the red brick and sandstone of the surrounding buildings" and "It looks like a giant washing machine or fridge" or "It's just been covered with cheap and tacky white tin sheets."

 I suppose anything is an improvement over what went before but Barrow folk deserve better than yet another tin shed, we seem to have cornered the market with those already. What makes it look even worse is the nasty splodge of badly laid cheap tarmac masquerading as a pavement outside the front.

Railway Club Hits the Buffers

After over a hundred proud years Barrow's oldest social club is to finally close its doors for the last time. The Railway Club on Barrow's St Georges Square was originally formed as the Furness Railway Employees Sick Club and Benefit Society. The club was in existence even before Barrow Central Station was opened in the 1880s.

 It was then accommodated in part of the building that was the railway offices in St.George’s Square and the present premises were those of the departure station of the old Furness Railway company, which date back to 1864.

 After surviving two world wars and the decline of the railway industry the club has finally hit the buffers.

 Ursula the club secretary tells me that unfortunately along with a lot of other local working men’s clubs the place just isn't paying its way.
She tells me of a photograph in the club taken of some of its members in its heyday back in 1963, amazingly after 45 years one of those members still pops in for a pint every evening. Lets hope the building itself is preserved, it would be a crying shame to lose this important part of Barrow’s history.

Too Pink?

A local Barrow taxi driver has had a serious complaint made about her car. She was told to take it to the Town Hall where the evidence was photographed for a decision to be made by council licensing officers. Pretty serious stuff huh! But what was the complaint, which was made anonymously direct to the Town Hall by someone all about, to justify being taken this seriously? Was the car filthy or smelly or worse still, in a dangerous condition? Were the tyres bald or the steering faulty; did a spring from the upholstery pierce some passengers butt? Well surprisingly it was none of those. The person had complained because the taxi was in their opinion TOO PINK! What sort of miserable sad sack would go to the trouble of writing and complaining that a taxi was TOO PINK? Maybe someone with way too much time on their hands or maybe some macho type guy who didn't like the idea of riding in it because it would make him unsure of his own masculinity. The taxi in question has been personalized by one of our lady drivers, who has a soft spot for the Pink Panther cartoon character. Pink accessories inside include a steering wheel cover, seat belt protectors and furry dice. Most folk wouldn't find it over the top or too garish in any way and lots of her fares, especially the young and the young at heart love to ride in the Pink Panther.
We drivers spend the majority of the day in our taxis and some like to add the odd personal touch to the cab to brighten up the place and make it feel more homely. In my opinion anyone who can seriously object to this must surely have big problems in their own sad grey little lives.

Whose First?

This is just some of the taxi's waiting for a fare at Beijing Airport. Looks like a heartbreaking job to me, this is only the queue for terminal three.

Small Change

Sunday morning lived up the usual expectations of strange folk doing what they do best; acting strangely. 

The silliest by far was when instead of any passengers getting in the cab I was handed a crate of beer and asked to take it to a local address. Fine, no problem nowt to do with me if someone was desperate for beer at 9:30 on a Sunday morning. At least I knew that the crate of beer would be quieter than a car load of drunks. But when I got to the house at the other end that's exactly what awaited me, a load of drunks. Problem was that none of them had the cash to pay the taxi fare for the eagerly awaited booze. I had just decided to head off and claim the beer in lieu of the fare when one of the party goers shouted that he had the fare. He disappeared for a few minutes and returned triumphantly holding up a jam jar full of small change. "There’s more than the fare in here, you can have the lot" he said.

 Ahh well,- I thought a load of two's and ones is better than no fare at all, and agreed. That’s when he told me the bad bit "his mom wanted the jar back," with that several hundred grubby coins were poured onto the cab seat. He hurried off to claim his share of the beer with me staring in disbelief at the mountain of copper coins. Half way back into the house he turned and shouted "oh sorry do you want to count them first” You can probably guess my reply!

Summer Storm

This Sunday winds hit over 60mph and we had to contend with roads full of flotsam and jetsam blowing all over the place, including the odd tree, like the one in Barrow’s Hartington Street which toppled up against some poor soul’s house. Luckily not too much damage seemed to be inflicted to the house, but I bet they got a heck of a shock.

 The road was later closed and the tree carefully cut up and removed. When we do get storms like this I am always on edge when folk get in and out of the cab because of the danger of the wind catching the doors. Most folk are cautious but some just don’t care and a few seconds of carelessness can cost a few hundred pounds in repair bills for a buckled door. One fare was a woman with her two kids going to do what most folk do when it’s a wet and windy weekend- supermarket shopping. She was a bit worried about her house roof and kept saying “I hope my roof tiles are OK.” Of course I couldn’t resist eventually coming back with the old chestnut “aye someone told me you had a slate loose.”

Her kids howled with laughter but she just looked at me blankly, the joke just blew right over her head.

(Check out Two Steps Back for more photos)

Hoss

Well it seems that the folk up in Barrow's wild western Ormgill estate have figured a way of beating the fuel strike. Seems like a good idea eh! environmentally green, friendly,quiet, and produces a by-product that's useful in the garden. The way things are going I may get one myself. Photo by Andrew Carling.

Custom Roller.

Myself I think this is sacrilege, a Rolls Royce should be left as it should be, not turned into some sort of fake Batmobile.

Toothless Tub

Well the destroyer which visited Barrow over the weekend for the festival of the sea has made the headlines for all the wrong reasons. HMS Exeter in an attempt to save cash has been stripped of it's main armament, the Sea Dart ship to air missiles. The missiles, which have a range of 40 miles, have been used to protect HMS Exeter against air attack. Without the missiles, it is believed the ship is defenceless against enemy planes. The toothless tub also hit the headlines recently when protests were heard about the use of the ship and RN helicopters being used to launch the new James Bond novel"Devil May Care" written by Sebastian Faulks.

Cool Bus Stops

Why cant we have cool Bus Stops like these instead of the drafty urinals that we have now.

Salthouse Mills Fire

Barrow residents in the Roose & Salthouse area were treated to another huge dose of toxic smoke and lung fulls of carcinogenic chemicals again on Sunday night. Every week we seem to be subjected to a blaze of one sort or another from this dangerous hell hole called Salthouse Mills. Sunday's huge blaze started at about 9pm and lit up the dusk sky with noxious smoke raising hundreds of feet in to the air and spreading towards the town centre. Lives were put at risk, by what sounded suspiciously like gas cylinders and petrol tanks exploding every few minutes. This place is a risk to our health, our children's especially, and as I have been saying for years needs to be demolished now.

Up North

Whilst Barrow suffered the wind and rain all Whit week, I headed north to Scotland and basked in the glorious sunshine. A trip to the Isle of Arran in particular seemed more like being on one of the Greek isles. Its strange how most folk head south when they go away for a UK break, there's a lot to see and do up north if only they would just give it a try. Despite driving for a living, I was a sucker for punishment and did quite a few miles around Scotland. Two things I noticed on my travels are soon to be introduced down here anytime soon. The first is the dreaded average speed camera; this differs from our fixed speed trap camera, in that it consists of two cameras which can tell if you have broke the speed limit anywhere between the two cameras. The two cameras can be miles apart, so rule out the usual trick of slowing down to go past the camera and then putting your foot down again. Whatever your opinion of them good or bad, you can’t but agree that they are definitely a lot more effective than our present speed traps. The other thing I saw was lots of examples of the thing which is causing lots of controversy here in Barrow at the moment. It seems that whether we want it or not we are going to end up with a new academy school here in Barrow sooner rather then later. But let’s hope that the design for the new building is a lot better than the examples I come across up north. Without exception every one of them could be mistaken for a cheap factory building, something like smaller versions of our own local submarine factory, the D. D.H. Some folk might argue that’s exactly what these large academies are “factories for kids”

Bench for Sale

Recently a letter was published in the Evening Mail complaining about drinkers and smokers spilling onto the streets outside local town centre pubs. Word must have reached the joking jester landlord of Barrow's Victoria Hotel in Church St, known locally as the Little Vic (just to save confusion with its grander namesake.) The letter writer had complained that a bench had been placed outside for punters to rest whilst they refilled their lungs with fresh nicotine. Next day a big sign in the pub window tells us in bold red writing “Bench for Sale"