Sometime in the mid ‘60s my family
moved to Blackpool. My parents were in the
licenced trade and the opportunity to
have a pub on Blackpool Prom was their dream
come true. This was at South Shore, the
aptly named ‘South Shore Hotel’, a site now
occupied by The Viking Talk of the
Coast and our pub no longer recognisable from the outside. My younger sister and I had the beach for our
playground. A beach so
crowded, we would have to pick our way
through clusters of holiday makers and family gatherings to find a space. The
smell of seafood mingled with sweet, fragrant
candyfloss and donkeys. Summer holidays
lasted forever. Our feet had blisters from
Woolworth’s plastic sandals.
This was the Blackpool my grandmother enjoyed. Nan and Grandad, taking a
break from helping my aunt run her pub, would come and sit in ours. Grandad
would make himself useful behind the bar or in the cellar. Nan, always in the
bay window of our upstairs sitting room, would leave her knitting untouched to
watch the world go by. There would be chuckles and exclaims of “Oh quick, come and see this! Well, I never!”
Groups of young ‘flower power’ people wearing cowbells round their necks and singing loudly was not commonplace
to Nan. Bemused, she’d be ‘well I never-ing’ all day as she drank pots of tea
and smoked her Park Drive. She only moved if my mum took her across to South
Pier for a game of bingo in the Beachcomber amusements. I loved her to bits and
it always made my day to see her wave from the window as I came home from
school. I probably drove her mad with none stop chatter when I sat with her.
We’d wait for the Illuminations to come on as more noisy throngs marched along
the prom. Out of season, Nan was happy to watch the tide come in and out and gasp
at waves crashing over the sea wall in stormy weather.
For the summer of ’68, my parents were
also in charge of The Huntsman Hotel on
Central Promenade. It’s holiday flats
or something now, but back in the day it was a
busy hotel and the residents bar was
popular with stars and celebrities appearing in the summer shows. I was
delighted to meet a favourite of mine, Don Partridge, when he held a party there. He was a street busker from London, made
famous by his songs ‘Rosie’ and ‘Blue Eyes’ and was appearing at Central Pier
for the season. Engelbert Humperdinck was on at the ABC and Peter Gordeno was
also there, or maybe South Pier. My mother took me to meet Engelbert back-stage
after we’d seen his show. I was too star-struck to speak.
A couple of years ago, my husband and
I went out to dinner at The Viking. It was our anniversary and a nostalgia trip
for me. The restaurant is upstairs, along the front of the building where our
living accommodation used to be. Some rooms have been knocked through, but I
could tell where the original walls had been. It felt good to wander around and
stand for a moment where I’m sure our bay window would have been, all those
years ago.The ABC Theatre, as it always was to me, is recently demolished. So many memories, not just Engelbert, but
Frankie Vaughan, Tommy Steele, oh I have a long and varied list.
Time passes, things change. The Blackpool I grew up with, my Nan’s
Blackpool, will never come back, but what a wonderful time we had. I am
privileged to have been there. My poem captures that magical summer
Thank you for reading, Pamela
Winning.
This Was My
Blackpool In ’68.
Taking a tram from
North Pier to Starr Gate.
A summer of fun and
staying up late.
This was my
Blackpool in ’68.
Anne, Auntie Kath
and me, all holding hands
Crossing the Prom
to get on to the sands
Where the grumpy
deck-chair man always stands.
This was my
Blackpool in ’68.
We were young
ladies with panache and style,
Playing the penny
arcades for a while,
Frittering our
spends on the Golden Mile.
This was my
Blackpool in ’68.
Spinning the
Waltzers three times in a row.
Make it go faster,
we don’t like it slow,
And then the man
said, “That’s it, off you go!”
This was my
Blackpool in ’68.
Out to a summer
show, straight after tea.
Engelbert tonight
at the ABC,
A back-stage
delight for my mum and me.
This was my
Blackpool in ’68.
Got to get ready,
there’s no time to lose!
My trendiest outfit
is what I will choose…
A pink mini dress
with bright orange shoes.
This was my
Blackpool in ’68.
A time of peace,
love and Flower Power,
Charlie Cairoli and
Blackpool Tower,
Seaside and
sunshine for hour after hour.
This was my
Blackpool in ’68.
Pamela Winning, 2013
5 comments:
In 1968 I used to go in the pub at the top of Chapel Street facing the pier. This was between the Huntsman and the Foxhall. I'm trying to remember what the pub was called. It had a room called the Bickerstaff Room. I think it night have been called The Wellington. Can you help me. Thank you
Yes was the Wellington changed to Uncle Peter Webster after a central pier entertainer.
Hi, I'm trying to find out more about Fairyland where, in the 1960s, I was carried more than once down the waterway that wound its way around the "caverns", in a swan-headed barge. A picture of the place would be ideal.
Trying to remember address of the Ulvescroft Hotel on the promenade,about 150m pass The Manchester Pub
heading south
Ulverscroft hotel ,promenade blackpool
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