Mr B
and his Jaguar

When I was in primary school there were no buses to take us into town so a group of parents from our village worked out a system so that they all took turns taking us in and picking us up. We all went to the same school so it worked perfectly.
I don’t remember all the cars the parents had except that I do remember my parents had a boring and bumbling Morris Minor while Mr B had a sleek and speedy Jaguar. Our favourite was the Jag, naturally. In those days - I’m talking about the 1960s - there were no rules about how many children you could get in a car, nor were there seat belts or special children’s seats. We just jumped in the car, 5 or 6 of us in the back, a couple in the front, plus the driver, of course.
There were two reasons why we liked to go with Mr B. (We always called adults Mr or Mrs back then). The first reason was speed and the second was adventure.
He was a local farmer and didn’t mind being bullied by a bunch of screaming kids in the back seat and our objective was to get him to drive at 80 mph across Abberton reservoir, the only place a Jag could show off.
It wasn’t a simple thing to achieve, conditions had to be perfect. First of all, no rain or snow, so it had to be in the summer. Second, no cars in front of us, none behind us and definitely none coming towards us. Third, no cars parked on the reservoir belonging to blinking and binocular-festooned bird watchers. Fourth, no ducks or swans or moorhens wandering across the road. Fifth, no policeman anywhere close by. What that meant was that we had to be completely on our own and every time we came over the slight rise (Essex is as flat as a pancake) before descending the short distance to the reservoir we all checked out the conditions. Most of the time we were bitterly disappointed.
But the day did come. We came over the rise, looked down at what in Formula 1 terms would have been known as The Straight, realised that not a car nor a human nor an animal was in sight. We started screaming GO GO GO! FASTER! FASTER! All of us yelling from the back seat, standing up and hanging over the front seats, around Mr B’s neck and watching the speedometer rise up to 80. We screamed and the Jag bucked like a bronco and shot us down The Straight until Mr B had to stop accelerating and slow down before the road ran out. But we did it, that magic speed was achieved, and it was totally thrilling. When we saw cars coming towards us we realised how lucky we had been.
The second thing that we always implored Mr B to do was to drive through a ford. This was a different route that we could take to get home, we would go through Friday Woods - which we inevitably called Fried Egg Woods - and came to a river which had a very respectable bridge over it. To the left of the bridge the old ford just beckoned to us and so we would force Mr B to drive down to the edge of the water, leap out of the car, look at the current, Mr B would scratch his head and say, nope, not today kids, too much water. We’d all pile back in the car and wish it would stop raining.
The day came when the level of the water was acceptable, we were not likely to get washed away and the Jag was probably not going to take on water, so Mr B did it, with all of us screaming of course and jumping up and down on the back seat. Another thrilling moment as we realised the current was actually quite strong but we got through it and the Jag had done its best, once again.
I always loved primary school, and the journeys to and from school were great fun. That Jaguar has always had a special place in my memory.
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What memories do you have of travelling to and from primary school? Do comment and share this. I will be very grateful! Thank you for reading.



Lovely memory! The total absence of health and safety is part of my memory too. Sitting on someone’s lap in the front seat.
Road a school bus that picked us up around 8. But the part of your story that grabbed me was the boring Morris Minor! I had one for awhile when I was a junior in college. I loved it bc in US they were unique and looked like a cartoon car. I learned how to drive a stick shift on it and ever so glad I did. Just good to know. Your adventures with Mr B sounded like fun!