The Greasy Spoon...

And the best place for a fry-up! Whilst I'm using Port Appin and appropriate transport for a 60's cameo this scene was replicated across the country in those days.

In my mid-teens I was hitch hiking around Britain and eating in these places regularly. I don't recall any menu being much more than a perm of around seven or eight fried items and they all included chips! (Although there was a cafe on the A19 near Thirsk that did great mince and chips and apple pie).

Transport cafes served reasonable food at cheap prices and I had favourites. Jack's Cafe near St Neots was always good for a lift into London, The Oak Tree on the A1 near Bedale provided me with many lifts back up to the north east whilst a massive place on the A74 near Beattock was good for just about anywhere in Scotland!

I think my pic might have captured the feel of a transport cafe in the 60's. Lorry parking was provided on little more than flattened earth, no tarmac! In the summer they were dry and dusty and at any other time they were a quagmire. I've spent many hours standing around the exits to these places waiting for lifts and the noises don't go away. You might hear a lorry engine on a low tickover and see a cab light on while the driver filled in his logs. There weren't many aircon units like today so there was usually silence - only broken by a lorry firing up and a cloud of blue smoke as it barked into life. There'd be a grinding of gears as first was engaged and you'd see one crawl out of a line up. I used to carry a large card with my destination written on it and I'd wave it in front of the approaching vehicle. It often worked.

Traffic was quite sparse in the early hours so the sight of lorry lights to a hitch hiker was always welcome. You'd often hear the gears changing down long before you saw who owned the vehicle - often a clue as to where it might take you - and there was great anticipation as it approached. Would it stop for you? If it was BRS the answer was usually "no". Sometimes the big companies would pick you up but mainly it was smaller operators with owner drivers that took the chance.

My parents never knew where I was! We had a pub and they were otherwise 'occupied'. One night I came home at around 8pm from a trip to Birmingham. They thought I'd been staying with a friend in a nearby village. I crept in by a flat roof and an open window and went to my room. Unusually, my father came up to see me to tell me there was someone downstairs wanting to see me - "a friend". Aw heck, it was a lorry driver that had given me a lift earlier in the day near Doncaster (100 miles away) and wanted to know if I got home OK! What happened next is best left to your imagination.



Note, there were none that I recall called 'truck stops'.