Some time ago I discussed the advantages and disadvantages of living without a car.
It so happens that I’ve been — at first unwittingly — involved in a pilot project for that very eventuality. You see, Caroline, my 12-year-old Volvo 850 saloon, has gone to our local garage for a service and MOT test. For listeners abroad, ‘MOT’ stands for ‘Ministry of Transport’, and the test is a compulsory annual survey of roadworthiness for all cars more than three years old.
That was exactly three weeks ago.
The MOT, you see, includes ever stricter rules on emissions, and Caroline, a gas-guzzler from an earlier and less less PC more carefree age, keeps failing them. Dave the Mechanic and his indomitable apprentice Kayleigh keep trying various things, replacing this part and then that, and re-testing, but no joy so far.
In the meantime we’ve been living without a car and … well, it’s not too bad.
Cromer contains most of what the human frame requires, and for the rest, there are taxis, which are plentiful and cheap round here. Given the large population of nimbyist bungaloid curtain twitchers elderly people who clutter up the aisles in Morrisons blissfully oblivious that anyone else wants to get past, or even exists live here, the private hire trade is the second most important industry after tourism. And there are buses, too, and trains.
What carlessness means is a lack of spontaneity. You can’t just get in the car and go somewhere. We haven’t visited Felbrigg or Sheringham Park, our local National Trust properties for a while, nor the Norfolk Wildlife Trust at the wetlands near Cley. We haven’t been able to whiz off to the marshes at Stiffkey. It also means that you can’t move big loads around, which might put a damper on my musical activities.
In some ways we’re beginning to return to an earlier era. Rather than going out shopping, the magic of the internet means that we can have things delivered. In the past week we’ve taken delivery of a huge bale of straw, the most gigantic bag of dog food you have ever seen, and a saxophone stand. All without leaving the privacy of one’s computer keyboard.
So I’m not at all distressed by Caroline’s extended vacation. Mildly irritated, perhaps; maybe even slightly inconvenienced. But the fact that we’ve lived carless for three weeks without the world coming to an end suggests that we might be able to keep this up indefinitely.
Maybe you could diversify your entrepreneurial skills by bringing to Cromer something along the lines of Streetcar….? Using hamster-powered Eco-cars perhaps?
You could hire a car for the occasional day or weekend for those outings.
I lived for many years without a car, as using the occasional taxi when I did not want to cycle, and hiring the occasional car when public transport wasn’t an option, was highly cost-effective.
I have to admit I did not have children then, and cycled to work which would be hard to do from Norfork.
You could hire a car for the occasional day or weekend for those outings
I hadn’t thought of that. … actually, thinking about it, I had thought about it, but found that the nearest car-hire outlet was in Norwich. Though I expect some companies would deliver the car to your door.
Using hamster-powered Eco-cars perhaps?
Well, now we have, through no fault of our own, acquired eight (8) guinea pigs, all I realistically need is a pumpkin and a fairy godmother and …
Henry – with two blogs to feed, and this sudden spurt of postings (plus really important stuff like walking the dog, and Mallorn)… how can I put this. Do you ever, well, work?
Maybe one of the bungalow-curtain twitchers would contemplate a job-share: half-time bungalow twitching and half-time chaufferring for you?
@ Brian: with two blogs to feed, and this sudden spurt of postings (plus really important stuff like walking the dog, and Mallorn)… how can I put this. Do you ever, well, work?
Yes.
@ Maxine: Maybe one of the bungalow-curtain twitchers would contemplate a job-share: half-time bungalow twitching and half-time chaufferring for you?
It’s a thought. Cromer is a rather depressed area and people tend to have two or three part-time jobs rather than just one full-time one.
Alain and I seem to be a lot happier without a car. Aside from the other good suggestions that people have made, I would like to add that my life was sig. improved when I bit the bullet and bought myself a little shopping trolley (the kind that pensioners seem to use). It is not the solution to the “enormous” load, but I am able to do a decent shop and glide effortlessly home.
Speaking of pensioners: In my experience, these “bungaloid curtain twitchers” are often the best people to ask about how to go on outings using public transport.
I bit the bullet and bought myself a little shopping trolley (the kind that pensioners seem to use).
Yes, we have one of those. Now effectively carless, it saw action at Morrisons last week, and will do again.
Also useful for plonking little Protocollus or Protocollina in, Bronewen, when his or her little legs get tired.
wow Henry, I hope you keep feeling ok with it. I am not surprised about the feeling about “not being as spontenaous” with travel and outings, I do think though that it is the transition… personally I find it very free not to worry about parking or that you have to return to your car but can start at A and move to B without having someone to walk back to A… but sure, it is nice not to have to make sure about the bus schedule.
Anyhow, renting a car or maybe if someone would be interested in “co-caring” so you could have a trip one a weekend or so?! Maybe there is a car pool in the lovely town you live in?? good luck!!
Åsa – you’re right. It’s all a matter of organization. My next task (after writing another couple of blogs and taking Heidi for a walk) is to print out all our local bus timetables which are of course in the internewt. After I while I guess you just learn them and know which bus is going where, and when. It is, as you say, just another way of living.