It was our ‘wax’ wedding anniversary last week – sixteen years and counting. We’ve already got enough candles to light a small chapel, so they were off the gift list, and since we’re not part of the huntin’, shootin’, fishin’ set, waxed jackets were out too. So, we went for a celebratory bite instead. Our venue was the Unthank Arms, a traditional boozer in the heart of Norwich’s ‘Golden Triangle’ – a popular residential district west of the city center. The Unthank is noted locally for top-notch pub grub, and we used to be regulars before we emigrated to the country.
As we tucked into our meal, I looked up and clocked this old enamel sign above the entrance to the loos.
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" data-orig-size="4000,3000" sizes="(max-width: 1024px) 100vw, 1024px" data-image-title="oppo_0" data-orig-file="https://perkingthepansies.files.wordpress.com/2024/04/37-bus-route.jpg" data-image-description="" data-image-meta="{"aperture":"1.7","credit":"","camera":"OPPO A72","caption":"oppo_0","created_timestamp":"1712337378","copyright":"","focal_length":"4.71","iso":"228","shutter_speed":"0.03030303030303","title":"oppo_0","orientation":"1","latitude":"52.620969444444","longitude":"1.27915"}" width="1024" data-medium-file="https://perkingthepansies.files.wordpress.com/2024/04/37-bus-route.jpg?w=300" data-permalink="https://perkingthepansies.com/2024/04/20/red-bus-rover/oppo_0-2/" alt="" height="768" srcset="https://perkingthepansies.files.wordpress.com/2024/04/37-bus-route.jpg?w=1024 1024w, https://perkingthepansies.files.wordpress.com/2024/04/37-bus-route.jpg?w=2048 2048w, https://perkingthepansies.files.wordpress.com/2024/04/37-bus-route.jpg?w=150 150w, https://perkingthepansies.files.wordpress.com/2024/04/37-bus-route.jpg?w=300 300w, https://perkingthepansies.files.wordpress.com/2024/04/37-bus-route.jpg?w=768 768w" class="wp-image-36706" data-large-file="https://perkingthepansies.files.wordpress.com/2024/04/37-bus-route.jpg?w=700" />I’m fairly sure the sign refers to the old 37 bus route in London. Memories of my misspent youth came flooding back. The 37 was my main ride back in the seventies when my dad ran a ‘Bottle and Basket’ convenience shop in South London, making a decent living out of booze and bread. Back then, the 37 bus plied its trade between Hounslow in the west to Dulwich in the south. I rode the 37 to school in Battersea, my Saturday job in Feltham, my youth club in Richmond and my bestie’s gaff in Clapham.
The 37 still runs but the route’s changed since my teen heyday. The iconic Routemasters, famous for their open rear platforms – just right for jumping on and off at red lights – and the (sometimes hunky) conductor and his clickety-click ticket machine, ding-ding to the driver to move on and ‘move down the bus please, plenty of room inside’ mantra have all been pensioned off, more’s the pity. These days, it’s all-electric vehicles that barely make a sound, bored-stiff drivers and bleep-bleep DIY card readers. More efficient, I’m sure, but unlike the seventies, not much of a ride.
