Mystery Drives

Remember these drives our mothers and grandmothers used to go on? Often they were accompanied by some of their bairns but not too many.  The men folk left them to their devices and stayed at work or at home.  Working mums in those days were few and far between.

All they knew was that they were escaping the humdrum daily life in the town for the country.  They couldn`t wait for the day.

Invariably the tours were organised by their church or other organisations they were attached to.

The Trip

Arriving at their departure point at intervals  the questions were always posed, "I thocht auld Jeannie wis comin!"  "Aye, she telt me last week she wis.  Oh, look here she is wi Mrs Muchty. They`re aye late they twa."  " Hello Jeannie, I thocht ye wir missin the bus."  " Naw hen, I widna been late if Teenie here hadna to gie the auld yin his breakfast.  He wis still in his scratcher when she left."

All present and correct they boarded the bus that had been standing there for sometime. They included the only male passenger, old Tom Craigie.  A widower, he had no reservations at joining this female company.  He sat behind the driver, albeit the latter enclosed in his cab.  The driver was always polite and helpful.  He was remembering the tips that might come his way at the end of the day.

They were off.  They had no idea where they were heading to.

Soon the old favourite songs were being rendered.  `The wheels on the bus,` A long, long way to Tipperary,`  `By Yon Bonnie Banks`. the repertoire was endless.

“Ah thocht the meenister wis tae com,” remarked Nellie with a sideways glance at her neighbour.   “Ah wis led to believe he wis,” answered Flo.  “ Sumthin must hae com up,” she added.

Once into the countryside, the first time for ages for most of them, they just relaxed and settled back to enjoy the vista.  Some of the `auld yins` were soon dozing.

"Ah wish they bairns wid settle doon. Ah canna hear masel talkin."  “Och Maggie, ye wer yince one yersel," was Tosh`s retort.

After an hour or so the bus pulled into the side in front of a little cafe.

"We`re stopping here for 15 minutes to let you spend a penny. Now don`t take any longer."

"Ma, can ah have bottle o` lemonade?"  "No ye canny, ye`ll be getting something when we get there,"  would be the reply.

                                                  

Fifteen minutes were soon twenty then thirty.  The organiser, Mrs Doich, looked pensive, "Whaes no here?"

The driver, was sitting in his cab impassively, fingers all the time rattling away on the steering wheel.

Just at that Mrs McClatchy appeared pulling on old Maggie.

“Sorry, huv we kept ye back?”

“Never mind,” remarked Mrs Doich.  “Right driver we can get going.”

”Ah wunner whare we`re we goin` tae?”  This question was never far from the minds.

“Dae ye no realise it’s a mystery drive we`re on.  If we kent whare, then it widna be a mystery drive, wid it?

Soon the answer was available to all, it was Peebles.

First stop was at a local hotel where they all trooped in for a bit of lunch.

Nothing startling, for this was soon after the war and rationing still in force.

After lunch, Mrs Doich told them they would have two hours to explore the town and to make sure they were back in time for the scheduled departure time.  “Or else you`ll be left behind.”  No danger but the threat was par for the course.

“Ah hope yev brocht yer sweetie coupons,” enquired Maggie of Tosh.  “Ye canna go back withoot a sweetie fur the bairns.”

Assured all was correct in that respect, they set off at a gentle pace to view the shops.

The shops window displays were sparse and frugal with the war only a year in the past.

Tosh would have trouble exchanging her coupons for sweeties.  Shops were only supplied with enough to meet the demands of their registered customers.  This was the case then.  As previously stated, rationing was a thing of the times.

Time soon passed and each and everyone made their way back to the coach.

Having checked out the arrival of her `flock`, Mrs Doich gave the driver the all clear to proceed.

This time no stops were envisaged on the way home.

"For she`s a jolly good fellow`` rang out as the auld yins showed their appreciation of Mrs Doich.

Pleasures were simple then.

Nearing the end of the trip, Tom Craigie was delegated to seek out tips for the driver. Hat in hand, he went round the bus with donations ranging from coppers to sixpenny pieces with the occasional  threepenny bits.  All soon mounted.  These were then given to the driver by Mrs Doich when they reached home.

Only of few hours duration, the mystery drive was a break to normal everyday life in a town still recovering from the war.  Everything was austere and it would be a few years yet before things improved.