Armed with my cup of tea to drink, an umbrella just in case of rain, flags to fly, and a hankerchief to wipe the wet eyes, I joined my Dad and many neighbours in giving these truckers and their very special passengers the send-off that they deserve.
Wednesday 29 August 2012
It is The East Coast Truckers time again
It is that time of
year again
I was really lucky to be at home again to
experience the East Coast Truckers' trip to Lowestoft —
Armed with my cup of tea to drink, an umbrella just in case of rain, flags to fly, and a hankerchief to wipe the wet eyes, I joined my Dad and many neighbours in giving these truckers and their very special passengers the send-off that they deserve.
The annual trip to the seaside is organised
by the drivers of huge articulated trucks. They have spent the past two years
in negotiations with many of the local and borough councils, and the police, in
order to secure the future of this wonderful occasion. An annual outing that bring smiles of delight to
the faces of children and families with special needs, and brings both smiles and tears of emotion
to the spectators that line the route.
I am especially moved when a child, who looks so tiny
in the cab of such a monster truck, looks directly at me, grows in stature and waves like
crazy.
The noise of all those horns as they travel
the thirty-odd miles to the east coast of Norfolk and Suffolk is almost deafening.
As the convoy, this year with 87 splendid
trucks, begins in the County-Hall car park that is actually right at the end of
Dad’s garden, we can hear exactly when it is time for us to step out on to the
doorstep and begin waving until our arms ache.
In a row of houses with no front gardens and
where there are no buildings on the opposite side of the road, it makes for a great
opportunity for the neighbours actually to meet each other for a change and have an early morning chat.
At the end of the day the tired but happy travellers return from their day-trip just as
it is getting dark and this time, as well as the wonderful cacophony of
horns sounding, there is also a festival of lights on the front of each cab.
Dad, Sis and I all waved just a little bit
harder in memory of my Mum. Mum would never have missed this occasion for the
world. She was always out there to wave to one family in particular, some of my
very early clients who loved her and enjoyed many visits in her amazing garden.
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