Nottingham & Bradford
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4th May
I got on a City Bus, which started at 10:01 a.m. at Stratford and arrived at about eleven a.m. at Birmingham. The bus for Nottingham started at 12:35 and arrived at a little before three p.m. at Victoria Bus Station.
My first impression from the sight out of a bus window was that Birmingham was big, but sooty and dull. This industrial city seemed to provoke an appathetic feeling in my heart.
When I was waiting for a bus for Nottingham, I got acquainted with a Pakistani aged about 60. He was now on his way to Glasgow. I went with him to Nottingham. His family came to England in 1961 and live in Peterborough.  His right hand was bandaged. He told me that his hand had been caught in a conveyor belt and the root of his thumb had been cut deep. He was now on recuperative holidays. He would return to his work in September.  I supposed he lived on accident insurance. He said he paid 60 pence a week to his labour union.
Nottingham seemed to be stout, and bigger than Birmingham. These cities must have given me quite a different impression from those I had ever seen in England. I had been in a gloomy mood. My state of mind was somewhat queer at Victoria Bus Station.  Did I get worried about the Pakistani's journy? After I parted from him, I was walking around with my heavy luggage. Why didn't I ask anyone where Information Bureau was? I became too lazy to utter any words.  Indeed I didn't feel familiar with the town yet. I was very tired.
At last I found the Information Bureau. I was given a cool reception for the first time in this travel. The woman looked inhospitable. She showed me a list of hotels and guesthouses and told me to telephone. I tried several times, but each reply was "full" or "sorry". For the sixth or seventh time, I could reserve a room at a guesthouse. £3.78 per night. P&J GUESTHOUSE, 177 Derby Road.
When I was looking for the guesthouse, I became aware that odd numbers and even ones of the house number were on the opposite sides of the road.
My room was big for family. It wasn't bad.


5th May
[Writing on the night of the 6th of May. I couldn't keep my diary last night because of my sleepiness.]

I went out of this guesthouse, and I walked around in the city.
There was a large park, which used to be the site of a castle. The castle was now a museum, which I didn't enter.
D.H.Lawrence was born at Eastwood, Nottinghamshire, the child of a miner. I wasn't inclined to visit his birthplace. I bought some food for supper and came back. When I was reading a book after eating, I fell into a doze for about two hours, perhaps because of tiredness after the long walk.


6th May
I got on a bus at Victoria Bus Station.
I asked the driver about a ticket, for that driver punched a ticket when I got on the bus for Stratford at Oxford. He said, "You can get a ticket at that office." I supposed that those ten minutes till departure was his tea break.  Besides me, several persons got their tickets there.
Starting at 10:10 a.m., the bus stopped at Sheffield, Wakefield and Leeds on the way, and arrived at 12:40 at Bradford.
I was given a list of accommodations at the Information Bureau in the City Hall. I had to reserve a room by telephone as at Nottingham. It seemed that I was dealt with more hospitably. I was also given a list of hotels at Haworth when I said I would go there.
I could reserve a room at BALMORAL HOTEL: Blenhelm Mount, Manningham Lane. The room into which I was shown was for twin and looked dirty. I found rubbish scattered about in the room and a rubbish bin not cleared yet. Worst of all, the keyhole was broken. I was told to pay £13.20 : 3 nights B&B (£12.00, 10% Service Charge £1,20). I said, "Why? In this list, I find a single room £3.50 : a night B&B, Vat and service charge included". The landlady told me that this room was for twin.
I couldn't feel great security because I couldn't lock the door. So I demanded hard that I change the room. The landlady showed me into another room, which had been prepared for a guest and looked more pleasing. Of course I could lock the door.
I wonder I could make myself understood in my English. I said to a girl whom I supposed was a daughter of the landlady, "I'm going to stay at Haworth tomorrow. So I mean 3 nights : tonight, the night after tomorrow and the night after that." I handed her 20 pounds. She fetched me 7 pounds change. I wondered for a moment whether the landlady had calculated the charge as 4 nights, but I thought I was wrong. She didn't look pleasing to me.
Coming back from the sightseeing in the city, I wanted to take a bath. But hot water didin't flow out. I went downstairs and asked about that. The reply was "I don't know." The landlady had gone out. I didn't have anything to do. So I began to write in my diary as aforementioned.
It's 8:20 p.m. now. The sun hasn't set yet. There's much noise in the street. I remember that the landlady said 'loud' or something, when she showed me into this room. You hear a loud noise in this room. You can use this room if you are all right.  She might have said so.

Looking out of the window of the bus for Bradford, I was surprised at Sheffield first. Such industrial cities as Sheffield, Leeds and Bradford seemed to have given me a different impression from Birmingham. They seemed to be moving slowly but actively though they looked sooty. I felt as if I had been looking at an elephant. It seemed that I could feel the vitality of Great Britain which achieved Industrial Revolution for the first time in the world. I thought that the hero in "Wuthering Heights", Heathcliff's passion was somewhat relative to the vitality. I see here many Indians and Africans who I suppose are immigrants as that Pakistani with his right hand bandaged.


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