Sir

Two years ago this week, the best teacher I ever had passed away, aged 68.

Mr Dare was simply referred to as 'Sir'. He was the one who nurtured my passion for cars, and would often take me and a few friends away to see buses, trams and cars of yesteryear. Indeed, he was highly active, being the founder of The Reading Transport Society (now the British Trolleybus Society) and Sandtoft Trolleybus Museum. As a famed author on buses, he was always dressed in his favourite attire - bright red socks! (This was the colours for Reading Transport). One Christmas, he came in wearing red socks and shoes - a real sight to behold!

For me though, Sir was inspirational. I can remember the day he gave me the lead role in the school play. Because Sir was well-known throughout the area, a school play also meant that you would go to other schools and nursing homes and perform it.

"I'm not ready", I pleaded, aged 10.

"Nonsense, young man," Sir retorted. "You are playing the lead."

If I was aware of swear words at that age, then I probably thought one right then.

So, there I was, Christmas 1990, playing Mr Fitzwalter, a miser who learned the true lessons in life. On the first night, I thought I had given an amazing performance, despite being so nervous that I was having trouble not to shake. Yet the buzz was the best I had ever experienced. I felt alive; I felt that I was on the crescendo of a new wave.

Even when I had to 'donate' some money to the local hospice for the homeless kids, and dug into my pocket only to discover that I had left the most important prop at the side of the stage. On one of the tables, there was a pen and paper, so I grabbed them and wrote the hospice an 'I owe you' note, adlibbing the whole time. What was supposed to be a serious moment had turned into a sketch a-la Fawlty Towers.

Still, I thought I had rescued it.

Not so.

Sir gave me the biggest bollocking of my life, and said that unless I improved, I would be dropped! He gave me the Fergie hairdryer treatment, for which he was well famed, in front of all the entire class. Of course, I didn't want this again, so the next time I went on, I remembered my props!

The subsequent performance (and the next 20!) went very well indeed, and we were even invited to perform the play at the Reading Hexagon in 1991. Sir was convinced that I had a future in the business. So he made me dress up in funny clothes and join his new boyband 'The 3 Boys' with two other school pals. Again I protested - I felt that my inability to sing and hold a note may play a crucial role in the failure of this latest venture. But again Sir would have none of it. So there the 4 of us were on each and every lunchtime, practicing our singing, with Sir playing the piano and orchestrating the entire event. And back on the road again, too, entertaining the elderly war veterans on the 11th November 1991. Then came the surprise - he had entered us in a Battle of the Bands contest that went across the South of England. I think we ended up finishing third, with a mixture of hymns and Beatle songs!

But I really remember him for his compassion. At the time, I was really struggling with my school work and it was truly terrible, way off my usual standard. One day, I arrived home after school to find Sir in my front living room caressing a small whisky and chatting with my father. I knew I had to be in some serious trouble this time. I was instructed to sit down and explain why my grades were so poor. Sir explained that he thought I might have Bipolar, where I experience 'highs', where everything I do is to the best of my ability and play like a world-class player in the big matches, and then 'lows', where my performance wouldn't warrant selection in the pub team. Of course, within these stages, there would also be ecstatic highs and miserable lows, which could be triggered by the smallest things. Sixteen years on, I think yet again, Sir was right. Thankfully, he took me under his wing and helped me to 'manage' the situation. When I eventually left for Big School, I was back to being near the top of the class.

However, I'm not saying that Sir was faultless. If you annoyed him or couldn't get along - and there were quite a few that didn't understand or co-operate with his methods - then life could be hell. It was reserve team football for them, all the way.

I popped back to my old school a few years ago, to see some of my old school friends and catch up. Sir was still there, but now on the brink of retirement. All of the other teachers had been and gone, with some unfortunately passed away, and Sir remarked that he didn't quite understand this newer school world, where kids could shout and swear at him and other teachers and not give two-hoots. He felt 'out of his time' and said that we were the last of 'His Generation'.

At his funeral, his coffin was carried to the crematorium on his beloved Routemaster bus, with the museum's Trust giving his coffin a guard-of-honour send off, with the buses lining his final route. His ashes were interned in the Trolleybus Museum at Sandtoft’s Garden of Remembrance. Although he has gone, I think there is still a bit of Mr Dare left in all of us who knew him.

Goodbye, Sir.

Somerset's bid for 'The Worst Road in Britain'

Back in early August, another top transport blogger - Christian Wolmar - labelled the Devon/Somerset A396 Tiverton to Minehead road as being the worst in Britain.

He cited that Dunster has the "worst traffic management system" in the country, as the narrow streets "encouraged" drivers to see "how quickly they can accelerate up to 40 MPH.

"Since there is virtually no other way to get from one side of the little town to the other, pedestrians therefore have to cower in doorways as the traffic, which never seems to slow down for them, hares past," he wrote.

Ok, on the face of it, this may seem a fair point. I often agree with most of Wolmar's post, but this one I couldn't support.

In counterance to his argument that it is showing the need of the car is above all else, perhaps it is in reality, the opposite - the town is winning the battle against the car. If these streets have been like this for over 400-odd years, why change them now? And how exactly are you going to alter the Grade 1 Listed properties that overhang the area in question? Cut them back, or demolish them completely?

In addition, the competiton to see who can reach 40mph the fastest simply doesn't exist. With myself having actually lived on this section of road, all of us locals know two things - that drivers actually intend to set their quickest time from the top of Dulverton Hill to Minehead, and that Dunster is a mere inconvenience - and secondly, that the grockles actually cause the problems, as rather than "cower" in shop passageways, they really wander all over the road, in complete oblivion to the cars who may actually want to occupy the same bit of space. Therefore, local drivers are able to rack up a very high score in Hit the Grock, when assuming that it is 50 points per individual. Incidentally, we all know that the quickest ever time set from point-to-point is unlikely to be beaten - 12 minutes 42 seconds to drive the 18.8 miles, which was set by a Radio Rentals engineer in 1997, in a Vauxhall Astra estate equipped with the 1.7 turbo diesel engine from Izuzu. And yes, it was white.

Wolmar also indicates that the area around the Yarn Market is "terribly difficult to walk on", because of the cobbled streets. Is he really suggesting that we should actually have the Edwardian cobbles ripped up in the name of political correctness?

Instead, maybe Dunster should be simply demolished and have a nice dual-carriageway put through it. At least we would then be able to set faster times and finally beat that stubborn old record.

eBay Car of the Week

Fancy a new 'Tina?

Yep, that's right - On the 'bay this week, is a delightful Mk5 Ford Cortina 2.3 Ghia of 1981 vintage.



But the best bit of this little beauty is its mileage - a stunningly low 2250 miles from new!



The car was purchased on September 9th, 1981, from W. Harold Perry Ltd, the local Ford dealership in Edgeware, Middlesex. After a service at 1500 miles, the owner was taken ill, and parked the motor in his garage, where it would remain for the next 25 years.



The seller - lovett1969 - reckons that this example is probably "the best and most original Cortina available for sale today." With the original tyres, number plates and tax disc from 1983 still in place, this car is a must for the serious Ford collector.



I would urge you to place a bid - when will you ever find a unique Ford such as this again?

Details: eBay Item number: 290168258080.

Current bid: £2300 (5 days, 20 hours remaining)

Top Gear is back!!!

Hurrah!

After a summer of heightened controversy that the Beeb's best show was to be no more, Top Gear finally coasted back onto our screens tonight.



With more double-entendres than a classic Carry On movie, Clarkson and Co were back on form as if they had never been away.



Aside from "pulling off in a service station", we were treated to a glorious film of a snot-coloured Porsche 911 GT3 RS, an overpriced Lambo, and a bizarre and rather naff (no this is not a mistake) Aston Martin DB9 racing car writhing their ways through Monte Carlo, the Alps, Italy and Switzerland in search of the perfect road.



The only problem was, it just wasn't that interesting, in comparison to previous editions. Who cares that the boys didn't stay in a crummy old hotel near Verona after all? Where was the speed from these supposed super cars? And why were there no challenges on the way? Simply a 25 minute film of them driving around some countryside and going on a shoddy ferry rather randomly, was a tad boring.



Admittedly, the show is now starting to look a little old, although The Hampster's new-look barnet was a delight all of its own. Despite King Jezza admitting that he "thought of lots of new ideas for the show, but in the end, we just couldn't be arsed", TG still thrills. Just about.


My only worry is that it may soon start to look a bit like James May - lots of intricate syntaxes woven into a hairy blamonge. With custard on top.