The Big Freeze - Weinheim 1963

I doubt many who might read this as I post it in February 2017, will believe a word of it. However, this BBC documentary will give some idea of the two-month-long freeze with even fears of the English Channel freezing over.

The Blip is of a postcard I wrote today to my father. I was in Weinheim near Heidelberg in Germany with my mother for the Christmas school holidays.

In September 1962, my parents had deposited me at my first school in the UK at the age of 8 and 2 weeks. A private boarding school All Hallows at East Cranmore, near Shepton Mallet in Somerset.

My father then returned to our home in Trinidad, my mother stayed on in the UK to visit me at half term and then in December to drive together to Weinheim and stay with her mother.

The snow arrived at Christmas/New Year and a wonderful time for the children. Although in the town, it took days before a snow plough arrived or any salt was put down. The best part, the relatively quiet road leading to the house was on a slight slope and ideal for sledging. As can be read in the postcard, I borrowed a toboggan from my Gran's neighbour, Mrs Lanz.

I guess it must have been that week that we set off back to the UK, with my Uncle Jochen volunteering to join us because of the difficult weather conditions.

We set off in our brand new Ford, a model few will know, a Ford Consul Classic. Sadly have no photos of it. My parents had picked it up in September at Southampton when we arrived by ship from Trinidad. The plan was that my mother would take it back to Trinidad by ship when she returned in January 1963. The thing was so awful that it was sold in the UK.

150 odd kilometres after starting we approached Saarbrücken on the French border and the Ford gave up the ghost. The local Ford dealer had no parts for this new model and with the weather conditions, it would be a few days before the spares arrived. Luckily Jochen had student friends in the city who put us up for the duration.

Eventually, we could move on but with now much-shortened timetable which meant driving on ice roads at night in France. Twice my mother managed to do a 360° spin on the roads, one caused by a hitch-hiker jumping in front of the car in an effort to force being picked up. Jochen was quite good at French but I didn't recognise most of the words he shouted at the person, they weren't in my school vocabulary book.

Eventually, we reached Calais. I think Jochen then took the train back to Germany while we did the crossing and then drive to London's Paddington Station and the train for me to Frome.I think we managed to get the chartered GWR school train but I can't be sure. It was the last time I saw my mother until the summer holidays in August.

I don't remember much about life at school during the freeze except for all the reports of dead sheep buried under the massive drifts that hit the West Country so hard. I do know that only the 12+-year-old "senior" boys were allowed long trousers in winter. The rest of us were in shorts and knee-high socks!

On the map, the street we tobogganed on.

PS The "ILU" on the card was my SMS version of "I Love You"