Wednesday 24th March 2010
Archway Road on London’s fringes. Monday tea-time. Ferocious dual-carriageway with goodly fence down the middle. Some schoolboys, aged maybe twelve, trying to catch a bus. Shall I mention that they are black? I think I will. Only drawback – they are on the wrong side of the road. Bus is almost at the stop. Two of them impala across, leap the central fence, legs horizontal, the full splits. The third is on crutches. Takes his side of the road in about three huge crutch-driven arcs. Comes up against the fence. What to do now? I see from my official self-driven car approaching, first one crutch, then the other, flung onto the opposite carriageway, followed by the boy scrambling over. Then he is hop and skip, dot and carry one, several times nearly falling flat on face, with crutches tucked under the arm, careering towards that bus.
Whether he catches it or not, I could not say. My car passed by.
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I hope your doors were locked? Between Highbury Corner and the turn-off for Highgate on the A1, I advise full motorcade with outriders!
How right you are! I once saw Majesty herself being driven down Archway Road after lunch at Haringay Town Hall. That was in Golden Jubilee Year.
A remark once made to someone about to board for Mauritius by a lady greatness applies. ‘You really must take the helicopter from the airport to the Royal Palm. I assume you’re staying at the Royal Palm. Otherwise you’ll see the most frightful poverty.’
You may have noticed that the air over Archway and Holloway is thick with helis