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 I am a traveller when commuting,   most weekends, and for a couple of weeks in GREECE (Whoooooopieee!).  

The word traveller is now used in the UK to describe people that take their home (caravan) with them when they move.   It apears to include the older reference groups (Gypsies,   Romanies,   Tinkers)  that I am more familiar with and may include newer groups that I am not familiar with.  

Recently,   in the spirit of travelling,  I rode bus #20 around Lower Earley.   For fun.   I as able to sit above the driver at the front of the bus and wave at other local Reading people that I knew.    I saw some camper-vans parked on the grass of Cintra park (formerly Sutton Seeds sports ground)  with people picnicing outside.   Get Reading reports that these are travellers that regularly stay in the Park every year,   this year they arrived just before a fence as due to be errected with the specific intent of keeping them out.     I wonder if they come to take full advantage of Jackson’s summer sale?


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2 bits of lovely banter on “travellers”

  1. Mrs Pouncer writes:

    Cintra Park! What memories that name bestirred in my heart! As a tiny child I would be taken to visit friends who lived in a huge Victorian pile on Christchurch Road (now, regrettably, made into several flats) and we would repair to Cintra Park to play rounders, to make daisy chains and to avoid the public lavatories. Always unaccompanied, our parents never feared for our safety, for everything was safe, happy and shrouded in a sort of rose-coloured cloud of bliss. Yes, even in Reading. At about 4 o’clock the great gong would sound for tea, and away we would scamper sure in the knowledge that a pikelet or a slice of lardy cake would be waiting. Golden days indeed. God bless us all.



  2. Stephen king writes:

    Oh how I remember the number 20 bus route.
    I would sit on the balconey outside my flat on Pepper Lane watching passengers aliting or dis-embarking off the bus.
    It was lovely to sit with a cool orange juice and watch the world & his wife go by.

    Just as nice was the cross town trip from my flat to work. A quick coffee in Caversham and a walk up the hill to the residential home I worked at.

    Now life is busy and I drive to work. Buses are crowed with commuters and its uncomfortable on a hot summers day.



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