The trial run was from London back home to Norfolk, to familliarise myself with the ins & outs, the boardings & alightments, of 'long distance-short distance' (LD-SD) public transport. I took the Central line out to Epping - the end of the line closest to Norfolk - just to get a head start. This was just for the trial, a luxury I will not allow myself on the actual trip.
The firs
t town I stopped in was Ongar. A universally alien sounding name, Ongar. If told, you might be forgiven for believing that its etymological origin was Scandinavian, Sanskrit, Aboriginal or even Martian.
t town I stopped in was Ongar. A universally alien sounding name, Ongar. If told, you might be forgiven for believing that its etymological origin was Scandinavian, Sanskrit, Aboriginal or even Martian. The first thing I noticed as the bus halted in the town centre was this banner: 'Peter the Pleater', a blind maker. Superb. Not enough businesses base their names on crap jokes. It reminded me of a town in New Zealand called Bulls. There, it seems, the whole high street has joined in on this daft punning, with the grocer called Edi-Bulls & the antique shop called Collecti-Bulls. Then there's Dispensi-Bulls, Fashiona-Bulls, Reada-Bulls etc. Genius. So much more individual than Boots, WHSmiths, Tesco & McDonalds.
Incidentally, Ongar is an anagram of Rogan. With which tenuous relevance I note that it is the first town in which I have seen a Tandoori in a mock-Tudor building. Not especially surprising, I know. But I like the idea of the exotic, sizzling Asian cuisine inside the quaint and dainty English architecture. Half the town was made of mock-Tudor houses, in fact. Some of them maybe even not mock. Just Tudor.
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