{"id":469,"date":"2019-12-28T18:42:19","date_gmt":"2019-12-28T18:42:19","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/gonbys.com\/?p=469"},"modified":"2019-12-28T18:42:19","modified_gmt":"2019-12-28T18:42:19","slug":"liverpool-1953","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/gonbys.com\/?p=469","title":{"rendered":"Liverpool, 1953"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Bintus chain-lit a Senior Service, threw the old nub-end onto the street and rolled up the drivers-side window, creating in the cabin of the Mk I Volkswagen, an instant Brigadoon from the smoke of three-dozen clowns and two avid Wolverhampton Wanderers supporters.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cShould never have happened,\u201d he barked, for perhaps the thirtieth time that day (and we had barely passed Albrighton).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSo speak to da union,\u201d replied Pichirilo from the back seat, in a sardonic Illinois drawl.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAh, da union,\u201d said Bintus, with a dismissive wave, \u201cI\u2019m tellin\u2019 youse, dis ve-hi-cul is fer performances only. Less dan a tousand miles on da clock.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat clock?\u201d said Buba, his head poking through the passenger-side footwell.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At this, an alarm bell rang in the back seat and Voz Vos removed a foam clock from his mouth before secreting it in one of his many pockets.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In the front, Jack Dudley lit a Woodbine and looked over his shoulder towards me, squashed in a row of eight behind the driver, Bintus. Like Voz Vos, he didn\u2019t need to talk to express himself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A tractor overtook us, as we lumbered on towards Tong.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u25a1 \u25a1 \u25a1 \u25a1 \u25a1<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIs that a knocking in the engine?\u201d asked Jack as we neared Whitchurch.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cEngine\u2019s in the back, dummy,\u201d barked Bintus, before pulling up, getting out, opening the \u201ctrunk\u201d and allowing seven or eight clowns to emerge from the front of the car and relieve themselves in a roadside bush. For the hundredth time, Jack and I exchanged weary glances. Bintus climbed back in and slammed the door, which fell off, as did the door on Jack\u2019s side. At this point, a steady stream of cyclists adopted single file to avoid Jack\u2019s door while passing, and I heard a familiar tune being whistled,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For the G.A.P. --\nThe Gallant and Admirable Pedallers are we\nThat's the G.A.P. --\nOn the road to a Wolves game is where we'll always be...<\/em><\/pre>\n\n\n\n
Of course, motorized transport wasn\u2019t a bad idea in itself. When we\u2019d approached Bintus and Bobble (the latter being the latest in a succession of heads to appear in the passenger-side footwell and blow great storms of smoke up into the cabin) about a ride, we\u2019d assumed that the Hal Condor Big Top Circus would be travelling together, in the large convoy of trucks and trailers that we\u2019d spotted at the show at Dunstall Park. We knew they were moving onto Liverpool next and it seemed an excellent way to save money on the outward leg, as long as the terms of our passage didn\u2019t include shoveling anything from the animal cages. It didn\u2019t, but for some reason \u2013 be it the traditional high-handedness of circus owners at the time, Bintus\u2019 obvious taste for confrontation, a mixture of the two or an entirely unrelated circumstance \u2013 when we arrived at the racecourse that morning we\u2019d been shown to the clown car and told to get in, even though it was evidently full.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Following the comfort break we were now back in motion, after a head-count that took a little longer than usual as Bobble had lost his Senior Service and was scrambling under Jack\u2019s seat in search of it for a good couple of minutes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u25a1 \u25a1 \u25a1 \u25a1 \u25a1<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\"\"<\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n
In Chester the Beetle shuddered to a halt. Garbus and Poncho got out (once everybody else had got out to make way for them) and began looking at the rear-mounted engine. Garbus, a hunchback with green wig and dungarees that looked fairly appropriate to the task, hit things with a spanner, while Poncho looked on, rubbing his jowl \u201cthoughtfully\u201d. It was clear no fix was in sight and we left them to it, heading to the nearby Oddfellows Arms to find refreshment.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jack got the first round and I found a seat in the corner. Through the smoked-glass windows the continuous sound of impatient car horns and personal taunts could be heard; I was glad to be in the relative tranquility of a smoke room full of clowns, tripping each other over, falling and pushing their way to the bar. Bintus was philosophical.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIf da baws wants ta use da show ve-hic-les for transportation, he\u2019s gotta know da risks. And da terrain. Goddamn hills in dis country, crazy\u2026.\u201d The little 25HP engine had struggled through Shropshire and all passengers had had to alight and walk while Bintus negotiated the steeper climbs. \u201cYa pays ya money ya takes ya choice. Show business.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Through an intricate series of mimes, Voz Vos suggested Bintus call a tow-truck, and Mr Condor pay the fee on arrival.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDa baws ain\u2019t gonna like dat,\u201d answered Bintus.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Some of the clowns were now juggling with the bar skittles, and the landlord looked testy. I went outside to check on the car.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Garbus continued to hit the engine, louder now. Poncho was simply directing traffic around the obstacle, holding the northbound queue as a steady stream passed south: an Austin A5, an ambulance, three buses all at once and then a big, black saloon with a roaring engine, which slowed and pulled in to the pub car park. Poncho ran into the Oddfellows and within seconds the entire troupe was standing to attention on the pavement, while Hal Condor inspected them coldly in evening wear and a top hat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s wrong with her?\u201d he asked Garbus, who still held the oversized spanner with which he\u2019d been hitting the motor. He shrugged in reply, and Condor raised his voice. \u201cWell? You\u2019re da mechanic, ain\u2019t ya?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Voz Vos tried to intervene, miming somebody driving and then shaking his head.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI get that it doesn\u2019t go, Voz. But why doesn\u2019t it go? You been pushing her too hard, Bintus?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo, sir, Mr. Condor, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYeah, sure.”  Condor surveyed the scene with distain.  “And who are you?\u201d he asked, cigar see-sawing in the mouth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI am Gonby, sir. From Wolverhampton, Staffordshire.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWolverhampton? That two-bit town we played last night? Did you give this clown a ride, Bintus?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bintus lowered his head. \u201cYes, Mr Condor.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSo the repairs can come out of your wages, you big schmuck. Now push her into the car park and you can ride the rest of the way.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
After some pushing, shoving, falling and slipping, the clowns pushed the Mk I around the corner of the pub into the car park. Two minutes later they emerged again, on tiny bicycles, filling the street. Cars honked and drivers cursed, but with grim determination they maintained their course. We began walking, and in a few strides had overtaken the clowns and were jumping onto a bus. We got to Liverpool in good time, had a couple of pints in the King Harry and watched Denis Wilshaw give us the lead before Bill Jones equalized in the second half. All in all, a decent day out, and not too expensive either, for we got a lift back from the Jolly Joe James Empire Funfair who were moving on from Liverpool to Wolverhampton that evening, sitting in the waltzers, drinking Champion Pale, and exhaling Woodbine smoke into the warm late-summer air.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
A trip to Liverpool was much harder in the days before the M6; especially when your ride was a fully-staffed 1947 VW Type 1 Clown Car.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":471,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-469","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/gonbys.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/469","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/gonbys.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/gonbys.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gonbys.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gonbys.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=469"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/gonbys.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/469\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gonbys.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/gonbys.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=469"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gonbys.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=469"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gonbys.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=469"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}