This picture from the Times Archive was published in the paper on December 29. I scanned it first for reasons of pure nostalgia – remembering what it could be like to be ‘trapped by snow & ice in the unforgiving country of the Derbyshire Peak District, around Chapel-en-le-Frith.'
Even the address on the back of the coach – The Quadrant, Buxton – brings back waves of nostalgia.
Those were the days – 1958 to be precise – when such was a regular occurrence. We used to look forward to visiting our grandparents for February half term because there was a good chance we would have to extend our stay, unable to go home in time to return to school.
It was not good news for grown ups however. When this picture was taken it was only a year after the Train Crash at Dove Holes, in which the driver died as the result of a great act of heroism. The trains lay on their sides, at the side of the track, amidst the snow & ice for what seemed like forever.
Another time my sister & I were on a bus going home – the rail line must have been impassable, since by that time we preferred to make the journey to our grandparents by train, an exciting journey involving two changes at Millers Dale & Buxton, where we had to cross from the now disappeared Midland Railway station to that of the London and North Western, whose line travelled to the north. Despite the snow & ice the bus was still running but as we went over Long Hill, a beautiful scenic route now barred to heavy traffic, the radiator boiled over.
It was not good news for grown ups however. When this picture was taken it was only a year after the Train Crash at Dove Holes, in which the driver died as the result of a great act of heroism. The trains lay on their sides, at the side of the track, amidst the snow & ice for what seemed like forever.
Another time my sister & I were on a bus going home – the rail line must have been impassable, since by that time we preferred to make the journey to our grandparents by train, an exciting journey involving two changes at Millers Dale & Buxton, where we had to cross from the now disappeared Midland Railway station to that of the London and North Western, whose line travelled to the north. Despite the snow & ice the bus was still running but as we went over Long Hill, a beautiful scenic route now barred to heavy traffic, the radiator boiled over.
Some way down the snow covered field to the side of the road a stream was still running, so it cannot have been all that cold. The driver invited my sister & me to accompany him on the scramble down to fill up a can with water to replenish the radiator.
It is only in recent years, with all the scares over child protection, that it has occurred to me to wonder about his motives; not in any way to impugn his – there was not much he could have done, in full sight, in the empty snowy waste – but perhaps he thought we might not be safe left unsupervised on the bus. Or perhaps he just thought we would enjoy the excitement of the adventure.
The last snow related adventure I can remember was in the early 1970s when I had visited, for what was almost the last time, my grandparents for the weekend. The snow made the journey to pick up the London train very difficult, so much so that by the time I made it to Stockport the last train had left, but a very kind man locked me in the Ladies Waiting Room (complete with a well filled bucket of coal for the fire) to await the Milk Train.
That is until Saturday January 2 2010.
The last snow related adventure I can remember was in the early 1970s when I had visited, for what was almost the last time, my grandparents for the weekend. The snow made the journey to pick up the London train very difficult, so much so that by the time I made it to Stockport the last train had left, but a very kind man locked me in the Ladies Waiting Room (complete with a well filled bucket of coal for the fire) to await the Milk Train.
That is until Saturday January 2 2010.
They were forecasting bad weather, with outbreaks of snow, just as the last lot had pretty much melted away but we pretty much got through the earlier bout unscathed & things did not seem too bad, early on.
By late morning local radio was informing us that all bus services, including the one to the airport, were suspended, not just those which have to negotiate the hilly local roads. Within a very short time they were relaying a Police message that all roads in the county, even the main ones, were closed.
We battened down the hatches, thankful that, although I long ago managed to train myself not to greet Christmas as an occasion for laying in food as for a siege, the uncertainty about being able to get out in the run up to the holidays had persuaded me to make sure there was plenty of all essentials in the house.
We battened down the hatches, thankful that, although I long ago managed to train myself not to greet Christmas as an occasion for laying in food as for a siege, the uncertainty about being able to get out in the run up to the holidays had persuaded me to make sure there was plenty of all essentials in the house.
Today, after a very severe frost, conditions are treacherous everywhere under foot, though the main roads have been gritted & if you can reach them, the traffic runs normally.
I was astonished to find that town looks as if almost nothing has happened. The gritters have made a good job of all the pavements, but there is not the deep encrusted icy snow lying in the parts they do not reach. Since we have not even tried to go anywhere since Friday I cannot say whether that is just because they had less in the first place, or if it just never settled the way it does in the country, or if it is because the frost has just been so much sharper away from the heat generated by all the traffic & centrally heated buildings in town.
In any case, I blame The Times Archive editor. They put the hex on us by publishing that photograph.
Links
