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Pendle Chronicles: One day through the eyes of a ...

Hamid Ismailov Hamid Ismailov | 11:39 UK time, Thursday, 14 April 2011

Going to Pendle, Lancashire this time, I have decided to spend some time in the shoes of my old and new acquaintances.

Though I'm not a qualified farmer or a licenced mini-cab driver, but I could be handy here and there - I thought; also I'm a quick learner.

I started with the Bed and Breakfast.

Rachel, the B&B owner, whom you may already know willingly agreed to take on an extra pair of hands. Let's see how it's gone.





Despite sharing the scepticism of Hercules, if I find I have the patience to do this day in and day out, I could explore this avenue as one of the possible future prospects of mine, I thought to myself that night.

The next morning I joined the team of Colne mini-cabbies. I must say that there are quite a lot of cab companies, and the competition for customers is rather intense. But let's first take a look at our time in the mini-cab.





When I got back to base, and spoke to Aftab the dispatcher, I understood why people in Colne use taxi so easily and often. The fixed price to get anywhere within Colne is just £3. So if you are travelling with someone else it's even cheaper than taking a bus.

And last but not least; recently I saw in the news that Pendle council banned kamzoles and shalvars (national clothes) worn by some cabbies. I asked a driver if it is true. He laughed and replied: 'Here's democracy for you!'

If you think that life here in Pendle or wider in England is getting quite tough, think twice. At Rachel's Bed and Breakfast I met three retired Irish ladies, who drove here all the way from Ireland for... shopping. They were so excited by the fact how cheap bedding and clothing is here, that they'd spent their savings on them to stock up. I also discovered in conversation with them that they were great experts in horse betting: 'Bet on any Irish horse and you won't lose' - was their ultimate tip. I received this tip on the day of Grand National horse race and though I have agreed with the local pub to spend my time seeing the world through their eyes, the Grand National followed me there too. But first let's see the pub.





Next I depart to see the world through the eyes of a farmer. In fact I drive there. And in fact not there, but to a completely wrong farm. A farmer, to whom I introduce myself, is quite puzzled why I turn up at his place, but we work out together that the farm I meant to be is a bit further up. Finally I make it. Once again it's better if I share my experience with you visually: 





Having tried out some of these new for me professions, I thought I should tell about them too and returned to journalism. According to the famous Roman saying: 'Either do something worth telling or tell something worth doing'.

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