A TRIP TO THE NORTH

It got decidedly colder the further we went North (I consider Birmingham North). There was a distinct chill in the air, the atmosphere seemed to bite! Oh, it's because they didn't have any heating on in the service station we stopped at. There was just the coldest weather since 1955-56 winging its way in from the East, snowfall expected. Why would you not have the heating on? A sign on the wall opposite read 'We want to make it better' followed by an apology for inconvenience caused during improvement works which were under way. 'Make it better? Just put the bloody heating on!'.

'I'm just off outside to warm up!'.

Well, as the day wore on, the snow came. It swirled ad whirled and ran ahead of the chill wind that ran at its heels. It was a numbing cold that threatened to make bits of my body so cold they were in danger of being snapped of. Important bits!




In the grip of the snow, the threat of more snow, the threat of ice and the threat not getting across the Pennines, we pushed on. Across the Pennines! But not before braving the deepening threat and trekking out to Old Trafford.

On this cold, cold day the curving cream wall etched with black letters played circumference around the white hospitality tent roofs.






The red rose (oh how it galls a Yorkshireman to even mention it - only joking) blooms between the railings. Both belie the sport to come in a more conducive weather forecast under a hopefully blue sky. It was a fleeting visit as we had to press on but I hope to visit again someday and watch play at this Test ground.



Crossing the Pennines, the hypnotic falling flakes of snow danced at the windscreen like silent sirens, tempting you into a false sense of security. You could have been forgiven for thinking you were watching a television screen with only one channel. It drifted onto the left side of the road, trying to get a hold on the dark grey and fill the gaps between the the white lines. Few people were about and those that were were driving the other way. As we got nearer our destination the snow got stronger, bolder and deeper. The wheels span and we passed spinning cars and queueing cars but inched our way into the heart of South Yorkshire.

We made it with minutes to spare before the weather closed in further and effectively closed down the county for the night and most of the following day. It was where we stopped, we stayed. I never made it to Headingley, the roads would have been to treacherous and we had to get back before more 'weather' closed in. It will have to wait for another day.


On the way back down to Wiltshire I did get to listen to England's opening at Sabina Park, a slooowwww beginning but serviceable, workmanlike.


RP


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