I’ll be leaving this
town sometime soon, but I’ve lived here longer than anywhere else in my life,
so I’m going to record some of that.
Apart from passing through, and a gig somewhere in Reading
in 1965 just as my band was turning professional, I first came here in early
1988. Viv and I met through a dating
agency. I lived in Chesham, she lived in
Reading, we met up half way (Marlowe to be exact) and rapidly decided that it
made sense for us to live together, and the choice of location was
obvious. I was commuting to London, it
didn’t much matter where from, whereas her work was here, so we mutually agreed
with her judgement. But it wasn’t that
easy.
The first time I visited Viv at her home in Blenheim Road
was easy – she drove us there. The
second time was a bit harder, as I had to find my own way. I knew I had to come along the A4 as far as
Cemetery Junction and bear left at, as I remember clarifying on the phone,
‘that pub with the funny name’, which was the Jack of Two Sides. (It’s long been closed.) Due to one-way systems, I then had to turn
left into Addington Road, left and then left again into Blenheim, and then find
a parking space as near to 17 as I could manage. This became easier with practice.
For some months, though, I was bilocating, which was
unsustainably complicated. I’d usually
catch my usual Met line train from Chalfont and Latimer, driving there from
whichever of my homes I happened to have slept in that night. Other times I’d walk to Reading General
station and buy a ticket to Paddington then take it from there. This pattern was obviously quite expensive as
well as ridiculous. We had to find a
house together, and it had to be in Reading.
'It Had To Be Reading' would be a good title for a novel, Tim. Maybe a novel, anyway?
ReplyDeleteYes, if you say so, Martin. I'll leave it to you to write it.
DeleteBear in mind, in Yagnub, Cemetery is pronounced Symmetry :)
ReplyDeleteI never discount folk wisdom, Z.
Delete