Probably Not the Next Samuel Pepys

I had to write a one day diary for a local history project that I am involved with so I thought that I would share it on the blog too.

Saturday 22nd September 2012

I really must be mad! The insistant bleeping of the alarm clock woke me at 4.30am, I reached out to turn it off and then remembered that I had moved it out of reach the night before to make absolutely sure that I woke up. I sat up and reached down to silence the alarm clock, Robbie was still sleeping soundly so I gave him a prod and told him that it was 4.30am and if he wanted to catch his train he needed to get moving right now, then I dashed off to beat him to the bathroom. When I got back to the bedroom he plodded off to get ready while I sneaked back under the covers for ten minutes, after all 'normal people' would still be fast asleep. The next thing I knew it was almost 5am and he was back in the bedroom showered and almost ready to go. It is surprising how fast you can get ready when you really have to. 

When I got downstairs he was just packing his lunch into his rucksack and by the time he got outside I had already started the car and we were all ready to go. The car knows the way to the railway station, we do that journey so often. On weekdays we are usually up at 5am so that he can catch his train to Birmingham just after 6am, so I look forward to a more leisurely start to the day on Saturdays and Sundays. Unfortunately the lure of the railway gets the better of him and he just can't keep away. Today he is going to the Deltic Gathering at the East Lancashire Railway, he is absolutely passionate about Deltics, especially his favourite Royal Scots Grey. I would have gone with him because I like Deltics too, but I have a terrible cough at the moment, it is exhausting and I haven't been sleeping very well, so I just don't have the stamina to cope with a long day on the railways at the moment.

He waved as he slammed the car door and walked towards the station. I felt a sense of relief, I had fulfilled my promise and got him there on time, now the rest of the day was my own and if I wanted to I could go back to bed. I clicked the radio on, radio 4 is the soundtrack to my life, I always have the radio on at home or in the car. I only half listened to the discussion about TB in cattle and the pros and cons of culling badgers to limit the spread of bovine TB, as I drove up the hill away from the railway station. I was thinking that my ancestors were closely linked with this part of the town. My great grandfather was orphened when very young, he grew up in the work house, but he when he was sent to be an appentice to a cordwainer in Leicester Street, he found a trade and a family and he spent the rest of his life in Leicester Street. His daughter my great grandmother grew up there, had her first home as a married woman in the next street and she brought her large family up just a couple of streets away. The area as they knew it is now long gone, but there is still one landmark that they would recognise, the spire of Seps Church still points heavenward, the clock still measures the relentless march of time in hours and minutes. The church which for centuries has witnessed the joys and sorrows of the people, stands strong and defiant amid the 'here today gone tomorrow' buildings of our modern town, reminding us of lasting values that are too easily forgotten amid the demands of modern life.

When I got home I put the kettle on for a much needed cup of tea and while I waited for it to boil I sorted the laundry into piles and put on the first load of the day. I was too awake to go back to bed and sleep, but I felt bruised and exhausted from all the coughing so I took my cup of tea and my laptop up to bed. I may not sleep but at least I could sit quietly with the radio and my laptop to occupy me. I enjoyed a couple of hours catching up with email and facebook and I began to write my diary entry for today. I must have fallen asleep at some point because it was mid morning when I woke up. I enjoyed a long relaxing bath while listening to Radio 4, a shower is fine most of the time, but there is something special about a nice hot bath. I wish this cough would get better, it is so exhausting.

It is unusual to be at home on my own, but today was very quiet, my son stayed at his friend's house last night, my older daughter had gone to Milton Keynes with her boyfriend and my younger daughter was shut in her room writing up notes in preparation for her post graduate course at Leicester University which begins on Monday. I like my own company and I never struggle to fill my time. There was a whole list of jobs demanding my attention today, but I only did the laundry and the routine tasks, I decided that the peace and quiet was too precious to waste, the other jobs can wait until I feel better.

The only problem with doing nothing is that you have too much time to think and this was one of those days that provided a lot to think about. Nine years ago today I sat with my first husband Eric in the Three Shires Hospital as the last hours of his life slipped away; then I went home and told my children that their dad was dead. Life goes on but those memories don't  fade, it is not something that you forget despite the passage of time, the details of that day are imprinted on my mind. I found myself wondering how he would feel about the way our lives have changed. I hope that I have done a good enough job as a parent, it hasn't always been easy. Eric didn't want me to be on my own if the worst should happen, but it must be hard at times for Robbie, living with a ghost. Perhaps it helps that they are very different. 

My son came home and my daughter emerged from her room, she had finished her work and was ready to fulfill her promise to paint my nails with crackle nail varnish, silver base with black crackle on top. It looked very nice. I hardly ever wear nail varnish, but it is nice to spoil myself once in a while and it is lovely to share moments like this with my daughter.

Time went on, we ate early because my daughter was going out later. My daughter went to get ready and I left my son to feed the cats while I drove to the station to pick my Robbie up. On the way back we popped into Morrisons for a printer cartridge and one or two essentials. I was glad to get home, but I had to go straight out again because my daughter wanted a lift into town. She looked amazing. We picked her friend up on the way and I dropped them both off at The Goose. By the time I got home again Robbie had a cup of tea waiting for me and I chatted to him about his day for a little while, he'd had a lovely time. 

Later on Robbie wanted to watch a film, it wasn't really my sort of thing so I decided to head up to bed with my laptop to listen to Radio 4 Extra and catch up with my friends on facebook. The cough was impossible, I couldn't stop coughing and I couldn't get my breath, it was a very frightening feeling, I was exhausted but I knew that I had another sleepless night ahead of me. Thank goodness for the internet and friends who stay up late and are happy to chat at 2am. How different from my childhood when my mum considered it very bad manners to make a telephone call after 9pm. 

Pigs Might Fly

My charm bracelet is one of my treasured possessions, I have had it since I was about nine and it has lots of charms which remind me of various events and special times in my life. I had previously told my friend about the bracelet and when we went to see her last week I took the bracelet over to show her. She was fascinated by all the charms especially the ones that opened, but the one she likes best was the flying pig. I told her that that was a fairly new charm, I chose it because it reminded me of Robbie. I worked out long ago that there is more chance of me seeing a whole heard of flying pigs than there is of getting Robbie to change. I think he will still be train spotting and listing to loud indie music when he is 90 - but by then I will be too old to care!


On the subject of flying, the other day I told Robbie that I had evidence that a flying train had once visited Northampton. He was convinced that I was trying to trick him and he thought up all sorts of explanations, but he couldn't work it out. He was most impressed when I showed him the photo of a  Thomas the Tank engine balloon flying over the rooftops of Northampton in 1996.

Full Length Mirrors!!

The alarm woke me up from a rather confused dream, I don’t recall the detail of the dream but I know that the alarm became part of it. I must have spent about 20 minutes pushing the snooze button in my sleep before I woke up properly. I realised that if we were going to fulfil Robbie's plan for the day we needed to get moving – so I kicked him out of bed to go and make the sandwiches and I rolled over and went back to sleep! After all he is the one that wanted to go, so the least he could do was to make the sandwiches. He woke me again with a cup of tea and I grudgingly agreed to face the day. To be absolutely honest he wanted to go to London on a Chiltern Service and I didn’t want to go. I’d travelled on a Chiltern service from London to Birmingham last year and it was a very bad journey, so I wasn’t keen to repeat the experience, but if it was so important to Robbie I couldn’t very well refuse to go.

The omens were not good when we arrived at the station car park to find lots of empty parking spaces, but the pay and display machine wasn’t working so Robbie had to run around the car park looking for one that worked. When we finally got that sorted out we walked to the station building to find that London Midland had taken poor service to a new low. The queues at the ticket office were longer than the queues for the Next sale! According to the man when we finally got to the front of the queue this was because they were one person short on the ticket desks. It was impossible to hear what the man at the ticket desk was saying, so that added to the time taken by each customer and caused general confusion. For those that survived the car park and the queues the man on the ticket barrier was ‘cheerfulness personified’ I am not sure if he was there to check tickets or to repel all boarders!

I thought things would get better from that point but I was wrong. It was almost time for the train to go and it was almost out of sight at the far end of the platform. It was so far away that it was practically at Kings Heath!! Robbie made me run, we caught the train but it set my asthma off and left me struggling to breathe. Undeterred Robbie marched me through carriage after carriage in search of exactly the right seat. When we were finally seated and I had recovered the power of speech I begged Robbie not to make me run anymore today. His suggestion that I should keep my inhaler close by did not fill me with hope, so I told him in no uncertain terms that my running days are over.

Usually the London Midland train managers are good, but we got the exception that proves the rule, she looked a mess and she was inarticulate. Announcements matter to people, they need to be clear and easy to understand, but she failed on both counts. This became more important later in the journey when it was announced that the train would be terminating at Birmingham International. This left a lot of confused and upset passengers who didn’t understand what was happening and were worried about missing connections, so Robbie did his best to help the people around us.

To be fair, he didn’t make me run between platforms at Birmingham International, it was more of a trot, but it wasn’t a good experience. I guess it was worth it because we completed our journey to New Street on a Virgin Pendolino with an excellent train manager. Robbie was getting very wound up because the points failure near New Street that had interrupted our journey had made us very late and we were in danger of missing our connection at Moor Street. When we arrived at New Street Robbie left the train like a greyhound out of a trap, weaving around people, dodging obstacles (there were plenty of them) and generally making a quick getaway. I was left to trot along behind trying not to lose him. When we got outside I had to beg him to walk more slowly even if it meant missing the train, he was not a happy chap, but he did slow down. We didn’t have time to admire Moor Street, it looks like a pleasant station, but we did make our connection with a whole minute to spare!

We were travelling to London Marylebone in the Business Zone on a Chiltern Railways mainline loco hauled service. All I really cared about was being able to sit down and get my breath back. I must admit that the seat was quite comfortable; at least my legs didn’t dangle in the air like they do on an HST!  It was a fairly pleasant environment except that the p.a system didn’t work, properly, it sounded very faint and you couldn’t hear what was being said. It didn’t worry me too much because I was getting off at Marylebone but it would have mattered more if I had wanted to get off at one of the other stations it stopped at.

To be fair there wasn’t much else to complain about except the tea which was almost as putrid as Cross Country tea, surely a decent cup of tea is not too much to hope for, it is not rocket science! There was one other unnerving aspect to the journey, the toilet. It was clean enough, and it was certainly big enough, but it must have been designed by a man. The toilet roll dispenser would be within easy reach of the right hand for a person standing up, but a person who is seated has to reach behind over their left shoulder to reach it, not the easiest manoeuvre. Even worse there is a full length mirror which gives a full view of you seated on the ‘throne’ – unnerving to say the least! A man would be able to turn his back on the mirror but anyone sitting can’t avoid the view.

There is not much to say about Marylebone Station except that the toilets were seriously grim. I know that part of London well enough not to get too badly lost, so as we only had about an hour in London we went for a walk to have a quick look at 221b Baker Street.  Then it was back to the station in time to buy a coffee and head for our train. We had the same train manager on the on the way back, she was very good, but despite her best efforts she couldn’t do much with the internet connection which was patchy to say the least. 

When we got back to Moor Street I made sure that we walked back to New Street at a manageable speed. I couldn’t run for another train if my life depended on it! We had plenty of time before our train was due to leave, so we paid a quick visit to WH Smith to buy a magazine. Then back to the platform for the best part of my day, a Virgin Pendolino to Rugby, a perfect journey despite the mad man swearing at the top of his voice in the quiet coach!

The final part of our journey to Northampton on a London Midland service was uneventful but noisy; Robbie said that he is longing for the children to go back to school! Northampton Station was calmer, but no more welcoming than when we left this morning. There is one part of the station that deserves praise, the toilets. They are always clean and well looked after and they are free!

Tea to the English is really a picnic indoors - Alice Walker

Today didn't start quite as well it should have. The alarm went off at 5am and I jumped into action, I shook Robbie awake and told him that it was already 5am and if he didn't hurry he would be late for his train. He turned over and said that he was getting up, there was no further action for a few moments, then he sat up 'zombie style' but he seemed to be still asleep. In those few moments my brain managed to catch up with the situation and I realised that it was Saturday! I told him that it was Saturday and I was very sorry for waking him up, he said "yes dear" and still in zombie mode he settled back into bed; he was instantly asleep. When we woke up at a more realistic hour for a Saturday Robbie had no recollection of the 5am episode.

A favourite pair of Robbie's Shoes

He came back to bed with a cup of tea for me (and a coffee for him) and announced that he wanted to show me some Dickies. I wasn't entirely sure what he was suggesting until he picked up my laptop and logged on to his favourite shoe website. Apparently the 'Dickies' in question were a particular type of canvas boots. Being Robbie he couldn't just look at one pair of shoes he showed me a whole selection of footwear that he would love to own. I guess he could be doing worse things than lusting after shoes, but our house isn't big enough to accommodate all his footwear.


Looking at the website led to a (very long) conversation about shoes he has known and loved. To be honest it was more of a monologue than a conversation. We had worked our way back to 1980s but I was spared further 'time travel' to his earlies footwear memories because he sent himself to sleep! I can't say it was the most exciting start to a Saturday morning, but seeing Robbie happy and relaxed makes me happy.  I was left feeling that some things are just meant to be. Robbie came to Northampton because of me, but what better place for someone with a passion for shoes, a bus ride away from the shoe museum and a stone's throw from the Doc Shop! 

From the Top of the Bus

A few weeks ago when I was writing about Robbie's passion for old buses I remembered catching the bus to town with my aunt when I was very young. Usually she would allow me to go up to the top deck and sit at the front. I liked this because I was high enough to see things that I couldn't possibly see from the pavement. If  we walked into town we would stop on the bridge close to the station and my aunt would support me as I scrambled up to look over the wall and down on the station below. I wanted to stay there to watch all the comings and goings at the station, but I was never allowed to. The top deck of the bus allowed me to take a longer look at the station below and if the bus drove slowly enough and had to queue at the junction, I could look across and get a glimpse of the goods yard. The station yard always fascinated me because I could hear the trains from my home. The noises seemed more noticeable when I went to bed at night and I often asked my mum what the trains were doing. Her answer was always the same, shunting, it was probably the only railway related word that she could think of. When I asked what shunting was I got a very sketchy answer, so I was always keen to see the goods yard and see this mysterious 'shunting' with my own eyes.

Thinking about those days so far back in my memory prompted me to look for pictures of the station back then. Oddly I remember the sounds and smells better than any visual memories of the station at that time. It was redeveloped in 1964/5 (vandalised would be a more accurate term) so it is hardly surprising that my memories are not so clear, I was only 4 in 1965! I can remember feeling very cross with them for what they were doing, I felt as if they were spoiling everything. When the new station was built I still loved to look down at the comings and goings on the platform but I disliked the unfriendly new building. To me it looked as if someone had dumped some ugly farm sheds in the middle of the town. It was probably the first building that I actively disliked.

Looking at the pictures I can see that my childhood instincts were surprisingly accurate. Taking away the old station building and replacing it with little more than a tin shack was an act of vandalism and deeply disrespectful to the town. I travelled by train many times during my childhood and teenage years, and the station was cold, ugly and unwelcoming, the sort of place that you would avoid if you possibly could. It is a little bit better theses days because they had to modernise it some years ago, but there is much truth in the old saying - you can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear. The only good thing I can say about Northampton Station is that the toilets are adequate and well looked after. 


Now plans are afoot to redevelop the station building and the surrounding area. West Northampton Development Corporation are working with Network Rail on the new development. It is hard to think of an organisation more disliked and distrusted than Network Rail, but West Northamptonshire Development Corporation is 'it', it is loathed and distrusted by locals because of it's high handed ways and the horrible things that it has done to our town. The plans for the new development are horrible, the buildings are ugly, soulless and impractical. They certainly haven't planned it with the needs of local people in mind. It only we could travel back to a time before the old station was demolished and start again, then perhaps we could get it right.


A camel is a horse designed by committee. - Alec Issigonis.

On The Buses

George Row, Northampton

It's Heritage Weekend, many buildings and places of interest in Northampton were open to the public, but the highlight for Robbie was the old buses. They were taking people on tours around the town via an assortment of interesting places. Robbie didn't seem to mind that some of the buses had never been used in Northampton or even Northamptonshire, but it mattered to me. It was nice to see a couple of our old red buses, but it would have been lovely to have seen one or two of our old green (county) buses. 

This is the bus that Robbie travelled on today

This bus is rather like the one that I used to catch to get home from school it brings back a few memories. I often travelled by bus in those days but I have probably only been on a bus about twice in the last twenty years. I don't really have good or bad memories of buses, they just took you to where you wanted to be and if you were very lucky they were on time. 


As a very young child, I often travelled on the bus to my aunt's house and back. I liked that because our journey took us past Castle Station and my aunt usually let us sit on the top deck so I could look out of the window and see everything going on at the station. There was much more going on in those days, and the bus paused at the traffic lights I could look across towards the goods yard. So I guess for me buses were just a means of seeing the things that I wanted to see!

This is the bus that took me home from school

A Northampton bus conductor

The conductor used to have a little machine with different coloured (and different priced) tickets on rolls, so when you paid your fare he or she just pushed a lever and produced the correct ticket. Most conductors were reasonably cheerful, but when someone decided to modernise the world and change to one man buses the drivers seemed to be as miserable as sin. I disliked one man (or should I say person) operated buses and for me that was when bus travel took a turn for the worse and became something to avoid if at all possible.

Northampton bus tickets

I lived and worked in Sheffield for a while in 1983 and I liked their buses very much because the drivers were not miserable and payment was simple. They had a hopper thing to drop your coins in and the ticket that was produced had an imprint of the coins that you had put in. As far as I recall it was called a videmat ticket machine. I haven't seen that system anywhere else but there again I don't go out of my way to travel by bus. 

So for those like Robbie who are interested in anything with wheels, here are some pictures of the other buses that were out and about in Northampton on Saturday. Robbie is so obsessed that he will be back 'on the buses' on Sunday

A Pride of Lions

Why don't lazy people ever get out of the house? What are they afraid of Lions?

Proverbs 26:13 (Good News Bible)

From time to time sightings of a big cat are reported in Northamptonshire (the beast of Bodmin Moor on his holidays perhaps) but this is the first time that Northampton has been invaded by Lions. 40 beautifully decorated life size lions and 25 smaller lions have taken up residence at various places around the town including the railway station. They are part of a 10 week public art exhibition and they are amazing, there is even one called Alion Carr made to look like Alan Carr who is from Northampton.

We visited a similar exhibition in Norwich a couple of years, but they had elephants not lions.

A World In White

In the last year we have had more snow than usual and it has lasted for longer than usual. It makes our ordinary daily routine so much more difficult and everything takes longer than usual. Often we don't stop to admire the beauty of our snow covered world so here is a collection of photos of snow in and around Northampton.

Thanks to Sean Grammer for the photographs taken in and around Harleston Firs.

To Birmingham and Back Again

Yesterday passed me by in a blur of agony. Clearly I insulted my flu bug by referring to it as 'just a cold' on the blog on Thursday, and it decided to show me exactly who was boss. By Thursday evening everything ached and my thermostat had gone mad, and by Friday morning I was ready to curl up and die. It is now Saturday evening, I am still feeling fragile and breathing is a bit of a challenge, but at least I can face the bright lights of the computer again. So rather than dwell on my aches and pains I will write about something completely different instead.

Last week Robbie took me to Birmingham for the evening. This may not sound very exciting but it is a big event for me because it involves passing through that God forsaken place known as New Street Station – I really hate it and I avoid it at all costs. Our journey started at Northampton Station, it is a while since I have been there and it will be a while before I go there again, the parking charge is a rip off! I hoped it would be a more pleasant experience than when it was in the hands of Silverlink. The best thing about the station was the hot chocolate from the coffee shop. The station staff seemed a little more cheerful and they has swapped the severe 'border guard' look of the Silverlink uniform for the 'slept in look' of what must be the most boring uniform ever. The station itself looks more unloved and shabby than ever, I'm not sure anyone could love a building that looks and feels like a farm shed, but I feel sad that this is the first impression that travellers get of my home town. Oh well, it could be worse, Coventry station takes 'grim' to a whole new level.

The journey to Birmingham was good, we travelled on a 350, it was surprisingly comfortable and it was a pleasant journey. I can't complain, but however perverse it sounds I miss the good old 321's and I miss the Silverlink livery that always reminded me of a Cadburys Dairy Milk wrapper. So there you are you have proof that Robbie is not the only weird one in our family when it comes to trains. All good things come to an end and all too soon I found myself in New Street Station. It didn't seem to have changed, there were the usual announcements about platform alterations and breathless and confused passengers with a demented look in their eyes sprinting from platform to platform in search of their trains. I know they have to announce platform changes, delays and assorted misery, but why do thy choose someone with such a grating voice that it sounds like nails being dragged over a blackboard?

We made our escape from the gloom of the station to the grim reality of the street. I never feel safe in Birmingham and I struggled to keep pace with Robbie, nothing would slow him down because he was heading in the direction of food. He took me to The Big Wok because he was sure I would like it – I didn't really, but to be fair I was probably coming down with the flu by then. Robbie made up for my lack of enthusiasm, in the interests of good taste I will not detail all that he ate but I can't resist mentioning the beef curry. I watched him polish it off incredibly fast, it looked as if he was melting like an ice cube in the sun, but he said he enjoyed it. I am sure that man would eat absolutely anything!

We enjoyed our evening out at the theatre, but afterwards we had to head back to the glories of New Street Station. The 'welcoming committee' defending the ticket barriers looked distinctly unapproachable and uninterested. Their uniform also had that 'slept in look' - obviously London Midland are a bit lacking in the imagination and style department! We had a while to wait for our train but I was happy enough on the platform watching the train dispatcher (he was rather nice) and having a good look at the 323 that was waiting to depart. The London Midland livery was hideous, the world should not have to endure that much green, but as soon as the engine started I cold tell that under all that war paint it was still the loveable, quirky 323. I love the way it sounds like a slot machine when it pulls away, you can hear it best from inside the train, but even from the platform there was no mistaking the sound.

Finally our Pendolino arrived and we were safely settled on board. For the first time that evening I felt safe, I'm not sure what it is about Virgin, but I love travelling on their trains. Unfortunately we had to abandon the Pendolino at Rugby in favour of a smelly old coach. Virgin failed to announce that passengers for Northampton needed to leave the train at Rugby, but at least they had a couple of friendly looking 'care bears' on the platform to point us in the right direction. Rugby Station looks like a bomb site, hopefully it will all come good in the end, but it is hard to imagine it happening in my lifetime! The coach journey was cramped, uncomfortable and scary, the driver threw it around as if his sole intention was to scare us to death. We arrived at Northampton safe but shell shocked, and I can honestly say I have never been so glad to see my car and to feel in control once more.

Back to 'Normal'

The trains from Northampton were back to what passes for normal on Tuesday so I didn't have another trek to Kettering. I'd already seen rather more of Kettering station than I wanted in the last few days. The previous evening I had taken Emily to Kettering to catch the East Midlands Trains service back to Leicester, it is quite a good service - as long as you don't expect a seat! Usually it is a Meridian, but on this occasion it wasn't hr usual train. Emily sent Robbie a text to say that it was a very old train and she found his reply so funny that she forwarded it to me.

"Hellfire! You've got an HST then. 27 years old this year and still OUTSTANDING! You lucky girl!"

That man is so sad!

Running Late

I nearly had to put Robbie's dinner in the dog yesterday evening, he got delayed at work - again! Just being an hour later throws our whole evening into confusion, it gets very complicated to try to provide the whole family with a meal at the same time, usually there is always someone who has to eat later, it drives me mad.

When he finally got home Robbie got a bit huffy because I had bought myself a book, it was about railway history in Northamptonshire, it's really interesting, but he seems to think that all train books in the house have to be chosen by him. He was bursting to read it, but he wouldn't because he kept stressing that it was my book - what nonsense!

We overslept this morning, I remember waking Robbie up, but he must have gone back to sleep because he was racing around on 'fast forward' trying to get out on time to get his next train. He rang me later to say that he got the train with 2 minutes to spare. I am used to him giving me a detailed account of all his journeys with accurate timing, but it wasn't until this morning that something triggered a distant memory in my mind. Reginald Perrin! He used to entertain the women in his life with mind blowingly boring detail about his daily journey's to and from work. At least Robbie is rather less predictable than Reginald Perrin, but he is irritating sometimes, I have to beg him to stop talking!

Miracles will happen.......... 20.06.07

it was another late night again, but not due to me missing my train (yes I do occasionally miss a train...lol..), but due to OHLE problems between Long Buckby - Rugby with CT starting/terminating at Rugby, which only meant one thing... BUS REPLACEMENT! Its daunting enough catching a CT train let alone a CT replacement bus service as you never know what to expect! So as we as we arrived into Platform 6 at Rugby (the Up Bay Platform....also a new platform for me that I hadn't scratched before...LOL..) we all eagerly headed off towards the front of the station. To my surprise there was two coaches and one minibus, the minibus was for Long Buckby and the two coaches were for Northampton ONLY. Well to put it mildly I was AMAZED! CT do have a habit of doing things on the cheap so to have three different coaches was a miracle to sat the least! So at 18.31 we departed for Northampton and 40 minutes later... we arrived at Northampton.......it must have been fastest replacment coach I've ever been on!!!!