Kerouac in a Squareback

At a constant speed of 70mph and with a steady nerve it is possible to watch an episode of Coronation Street being shown on the TV screen mounted in the rear of the headrest of the car in front.

I know this to be a fact because I have witnessed it on the M62 motorway.

At first I noticed how close the two vehicles were as they accelerated down the on ramp undertaking me on my nearside . They were almost kissing the rubber and chrome of respective bumpers. The follower of the posh executive saloon and obvious Coronation Street fan was leaning forward with his forehead almost against the windscreen and with chin on the apex of the steering wheel keeping up with the events on his favourite soap opera.

Just recently I found myself behind the new coupe shaped Range Rover at a set of traffic lights. The rear seat passengers, two children were obviously engrossed in watching a movie on eye level screens and not at all aware of, interested in or stimulated by the surroundings which in that particular part of the City of York included the imposing Roman Walls and magnificent Gothic Minster.

I felt sad for these two motorised couch potato siblings particularly as my own fondest childhood memories were heavily based on the experience of motoring.

As a family we always seemed to be on the move. We were not desperadoes, in a leaky witness protection scheme or travellers but just living some distance away from relatives and other places to go.

Those were days of lower volumes of traffic and statistically a lower risk of accidents and collisions. This was surprising as we are told in retrospect that motor vehicles of that time were poorly built to withstand an impact, seat belts were not compulsory and average speeds on less congested roads were higher.

The key factor in reducing road rage and stress was the fact that occupants of cars were singing, spotting things, collecting facts and generally making an event of the journey to get somewhere, whether a momentous trip such as going on holiday or just out to the shops.

Being a family of five children we were almost of choir proportions. Our repertoire was quite varied from the ever popular ' One man went to mow' and 'This old man ,he played one, etc' to an ambitious harmonised rendition of 'By the light of the silvery moon'.

If we had fallen out with each other in disharmony then there were plenty of selfish single pursuits. I was fascinated by the numbers and letters on number plates. Combinations making up a potential curse or just suggesting a rude word brought on a fit of giggles.

In the late 1960's  it was a matter of great excitement to see a number plate from another county let alone another country, such was the parochial nature of the car registration process.

A million zillion points could be earned from being the first to see a white horse. You had to be quick though as sighting but not announcing the fact stood for nought if one of your siblings had a verbal claim to the fictitious treasure trove of points. The quest for the white horse was a spin off from the 'I Spy' books which were quite an expensive luxury in a large family on a budget.

My father really got me started on my love of car spotting when he took me to the Earls Court, London, Motor Show at the very young age of 6. I would by all accounts amaze my fellow car passengers by being able to identify every motor vehicle on the road at that time. This was not, I think too difficult as there was very little in what could be called exotic european models with the strong dominance of British marques showing the massive output of the UK based industry at the time.

We soon outgrew the green Morris Minor although it could easily accommodate a dozen unrestrained small children if the boot space was occupied for short journeys.

As passengers in a subsequent VW we would wave at other owners of the brand which was fun and not too tiring, again as a VW was quite a rare vehicle to see on British roads. I was too young to have seen a salute from a smart uniformed operative of one of the main motoring and breakdown organisations upon seeing a member displaying a radiator or windscreen mounted insignia.

If stopping for petrol or a wee-wee at a service station, usually a small attended forecourt type, there was a chance to collect freebies. Esso, I think it was, had sets of collectable silver coins embossed with the history of aviation or space travel and in 1970 the England World Cup team . These later progressed to busts of players. There were also small booklets called Squelch packed with information and facts. If we exhausted our other means of entertainment then we just looked out and observed where we were and what was around us.

We soon recognised the landmarks on our regular trips to see grandparents, aunts and uncles or family friends and these are still very familiar on a journey today, although strangely much smaller in scale than originally perceived as wide eyed children on sweaty vinyl car seats, the backs of our legs red raw and sore from friction burns and heat rash. Still, happy times.