John Edward Cooper’s Notes

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Sunday 21 July 2013

[Saturday 20 July 2013]

10:44 Manchester Airport
13:50 Cleethorpes


As I was showering, Janet went down for a bottle of Diet Coke. We checked out ca.9am, paying the rather “steep” £7.20 for two bottles of Coke, boarded the shuttle minibus, which had at that moment arrived, and asked for the railway station. The weather was cool and grey, but I was warm enough with my jacket on. I had a sandwich and a 350ml bottle of Appletiser in the station-platform buffet. In contrast to the disgraceful chaos last time we travelled this route, the train had plenty of seats available, though the luggage space was limited and we lined our cases up on the side of the aisle just by the luggage rack. This didn’t attract any comment from the conductor, though, as it might have done, and probably would have done on that previous overcrowded train. My right hand had recovered considerably, so I was able to type this while on the train with no difficulty and only minor discomfort. When a space on the luggage-rack became free at Sheffield I lifted the cases up into it, before any passengers got on there. A kind passenger helped me to shove the second case up. When the train stopped at Barnetby I phoned to book a taxi to meet us at Cleethorpes station. He asked if I wanted it opposite Bootleggers, and I told him “the back of the station”. He said that that might be difficult because there were works going on. I thought the agreement therefore was to meet the taxi as near as possible to there. When we got to the junction of station exit and public road, though, outside the №1 pub, there was no car waiting. I left Janet there and strode up towards the “double arrow” sign denoting the station pedestrian entrance opposite Bootleggers, and while some distance away saw some people get in a taxi and drive away. I phoned the firm, and indeed that was our car, which they’d let the other people have because we weren’t there. I arranged for another taxi to come — “It’ll be five or ten minutes” — specifically to the “№1”. When I’d phoned from Barnetby, I couldn’t remember which pub was the №1 and which the №2, or I’d have specified it then. Anyway, we got home not long after 2pm.…


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