In the 1950's we lived outside Blackpool, the famous north west England resort, but for our summer holiday we travelled to Bournemouuth on the south coast, where a close friend of my mother (known as Auntie Phyllis) had moved to open a hotel.
It was a long journey, before the days of motorways, though industrial Lancashire. My brother and I hated crossing the swing bridges over the Manchester Ship Canal at Wigan and Warrington with visions of them swinging around whilst we were on them. We would crouch down behind my parent's' seats and hide our eyes. This was also before the days of car seats and seatbelts for children.
Another journey was crossing the Pennines on the Snake Pass through the Peak District to visit relatives in Sheffield, or going over the Kirkston Pass in the Lake District - we must have seemed such wimps, but we hated the twisty roads and sudden drops below us, so it seemed safer not to look out. until we reached safer ground.
Another journey was crossing the Pennines on the Snake Pass through the Peak District to visit relatives in Sheffield, or going over the Kirkston Pass in the Lake District - we must have seemed such wimps, but we hated the twisty roads and sudden drops below us, so it seemed safer not to look out. until we reached safer ground.
This was also long before the days of electronic games, Walkman, I Pods and I Pads - I don't think we even had a car radio. To pass the time, we did the usual car games of I Spy, I went to the seaside or the market, and bought A ...B..C ...etc.. and making up silly sentences from the registration numbers of cars and also making up silly songs. My father was a commercial traveller (sales rep) for the Beecham Pharmaceutical Group and one ditty we came up with was:
There was a hermit in the hills
Living off his Beecham Pills
He ate two in the morning
And two at night
To make him feel so merry and bright.
A family group from the 1950's |
We usually stopped somewehre for a picnic, prepared by my mother. One notable time, she excelled herslf by making a fruit tart and chicken pieces instead of the usual sandwiches and a banana - and left them all behind in the pantry! We had to stop somewhere and find a cafe for lunch. My father got the blame here, as he was always chivvering us get a move on and get away, wheras my mother had to see to all the packing for us, plus the food. We returned home a week later to discover the chicken and fruit pie covered in fur!
Like all children, the excitement of going away quickly turned to boredom and the perennial question was voiced "Are we nearly there?"
Adapted from a posting of 2011.
Travel Tuesday is one of many daily prompts form www.geneabloggers.com to encourage us to write abut our family history and personal memories.
Thanks for sharing this story. Although many miles separate us I have similar holiday memories.
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DeleteI wish I had many more family photos to go along with so many memories, even though memories are wonderful too, but I very few old family photos.
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