Wokingham

WOKINGHAM lies in the county of Berkshire. It is accessible by the A329 London to Reading road and by the M3 and M4 motorways. There are good bus and rail services linking it to Reading, Bracknell and Camberley. Rail connections from Reading extend to all parts of the country and there are direct services from Wokingham to Waterloo, Guildford and Gatwick Airport. London Airport Heathrow is easily reached via the M4.



The first thing that greets one as one enters the Wokingham area is the sign that denotes the town’s twinning status with its German counterpart Erftsadt.

And whenever I see it, it sparks off a chord of memory in my mind. For I myself went on a trip to Erftsadt on one occasion. And the recollections that the name evokes are particularly memorable.

I myself have never lived in Wokingham but I was delighted when I was offered the opportunity of visiting Erftsadt. Frequent trips to the German twin town were being organised on a regular basis in Wokingham at the time – the organisers being known as ‘the Wokingham Erftsadt Twinning Association’. And the committee’s objective was to foster friendly relations between the people of Erftsadt and the people of Wokingham. Certain Erftsadt residents volunteered to play ‘hosts’ to the visitors from Wokingham – with this hospitality being invariable reciprocated in kind when the people of Erftsadt elected to visit Wokingham.

It seemed to be an excellent arrangement, and involved the minimum of financial outlay. ‘Minimum expenditure’ also embraced the travel arrangements, which involved boarding a coach at Wokingham, which took one to the port of Dover, and then boarding a boat that crossed the channel and took one on to the Belgian port of Zeebrugge, and then re-boarding the coach when one reached Zeebrugge, and afterwards travelling by coach across to the German border, and then continuing the final part of the journey to Erftsadt itself – which was based 16 miles west of Cologne.

Erftsadt itself constituted an amalgamation of small towns of various sizes – and we would be heading for Lechenich which was situated in the centre of Erftsadt. In those halcyon days of air travel it did seem a somewhat ‘round-about’ route – but it also involved the absolute minimum of financial outlay.

And it even represented a ‘mini holiday’ for the coach driver who would also be an invited guest at the home of an Erftsadt resident for the duration of the ‘long week-end break’! To complete the whole journey in the course of one day demanded an ‘early start’ and the coach left Wokingham on the stroke of 5.00 a.m.

We reached Dover seemingly in record time, and, leaving one’s luggage on the coach, boarded the boat for Belgium. The ‘crossing’ was relatively smooth and I spent most of the time up on deck – making the most of the fresh air before being incarcerated in the coach once again.

We sped through Belgium without incident, and I noted with interest a sign that denoted the ‘turn-off’ for Brussels. I even saw the distinctive contours of the city’s skyline in the hazy distance. We encountered our first problem when we reached the German border. For some reason we were being regarded with a measure of suspicion. Most of the travellers on board the coach were of mature vintage.

None of them looked like ‘drug-smugglers’ or ‘potential terrorists’! None-the-less all our passports were minutely scrutinised, and even some of our baggage was searched. Perhaps the border security guards thought it was a rather strange - or even a suspicious – phenomenon for anyone to choose to travel by coach when the sky was alive with planes that could complete the journey in a fraction of the time……

Our driver, who, like the majority of his passengers, was also of mature vintage, and seemed to have been somewhat unnerved by the border-crossing incident. We were now on the German motorway, which appeared to stretch ahead of us in one long continuous line. And it was thronging with hooting vehicles – ‘hooting’ being a pre-requisite for ‘overtaking’ on a German motorway at that time. However, our driver studiously stayed in the same lane the whole time and we continued to move at a steady pace.

The journey seemed to be going on for ever, and I glanced out of the window and studied some of the signs that bordered the motorway in the hope that the name Erftsadt might materialise. And, to my horror, I saw the name ‘Berlin’ emblazoned on a signpost! I knew that Erftsadt was based near Cologne. But Berlin? Surely it wasn’t within striking distance of Berlin?

The driver too noted the sign – as did the majority of the passengers. And the driver’s voice reached us over the intercom. “I’m afraid I must have taken the wrong turning somewhere!” he declared in a miserable tone. “We seem to be heading for Berlin!”

We now made a detour into the nearest motorway junction, where everyone set about scrutinising every available map. It seemed that we were ‘miles off-course’ – but eventually we set forth again and proceeded to retrace our former route….. It was well after midnight when we finally reached Erftsadt. And we had been travelling for more than 19 hours! Our potential hosts were all waiting for us in Lechenich Square – and they did not look a happy band of people!

The leader of our group apologised profusely for our delayed arrival, explaining that we had found ourselves mistakenly heading towards Berlin! While looking profoundly bewildered by such an admission, our hosts responded graciously, and on of their members gave a warm speech of welcome.

Then our names were called out and we were introduced to our respective hosts. I found I’d been allocated to a young couple who had a one year old baby son. They greeted me warmly and led me to their house, which had been divided into three apartments, with the wife’s grandmother occupying the top floor and her brother occupying the ground floor, while she and her husband and baby son were ensconced on the first floor.

I was told that having their grandmother living on the top floor ensured that their baby had a resident ‘baby-sitter’ actually living on the premises – with the grandmother also being able to be totally independent at the same time. There was obviously a ‘strong family feeling’ in existence in Wokingham’s twin town! By the time we had chatted and drunk numerous cups of coffee, it was almost 2.00 a.m. when I finally got to bed!

I had been allocated a very pleasant room and slept very soundly indeed. In fact, I would probably have slept all morning - but my hostess came into my room at the early hour of 8.00 a.m. bearing a ‘morning cup of tea’ in her hand! At any rate I’d had a few hours’ sleep!

Erftsadt proved to be a fascinating place, and it resembled Wokingham greatly in many respects. There were even occasions when I found myself blinking in disbelief as I stared at certain sections of the town – momentarily convinced that I was back in Wokingham……..

Everyone was most hospitable, and included among the many functions that I attended was a ‘Beer Festival’ staged at the newly completed Parish Community Centre.

Here the beer flowed freely – as did the Schnapps! And one group of avuncular German men seemed particularly impressed by my ability to ‘knock back’ such concoctions without any obvious sign of inebriation. They all insisted on buying me a succession of ‘Schnapps und Beer’! It seemed impolite to refuse such generous gestures of hospitality, but, while I ‘drowned’ the fiery ‘Schnapps’ with the utmost ease, unbeknown to them I relegated all the ‘Beer’ to a ‘pot plant’ that resided beside the chair on which I sat! Not that I dislike German Beer – for in my opinion it is one of the best beers in the world! But a single pint of beer is about all I can absorb at any one given time!

Sausages too proved to be a focal feature of that particular ‘Beer Festival’. And I was presented with generous platefuls of boiled sausages, grilled sausages, and fried sausages. And, like German Beer, German Sausages are in a ‘league of their own’………..

‘Twinning’ seems to be a highly successful European venture, and I thoroughly enjoyed my time in Erftsadt. And – who knows – there may well be other ‘twinning’ opportunities in the future, for I note that Wokingham is now also ‘twinned’ with a French resort…………

Roberta Crookes has worked as a newspaper journalist throughout most of her life, writing news stories, editorial features, advertisement supplements, and reviews. And in the course of her work she has interviewed many famous people from all walks of life. She has also managed to combine parallel careers in both journalism and acting, and, being Welsh speaking from North Wales, her main television featured parts have been Welsh language roles with BBC Wales.