I’m currently enjoying a birthday break in Dumfries &
Galloway, where so far, the snow has missed us out. The temperature is below
freezing. Blue skies, sunshine and hardly
a breeze, but that may change in a day or two, according to the weather
forecast, even in this micro climate pocket. It’s cosy in our favourite lodge.
This is my happy place. While I’m relaxing I’m reminiscing about my childhood
and my first encounter with trams.
That second relocation to Blackpool would have taken place
in April, 1965. I was nine and a half. My father got his wish, a pub on Blackpool
promenade. Uprooted again, but I soon settled in to our home and my new school.
All my pub homes were interesting, even quirky, looking back, but this one was
the best. It might be to do with my father’s fulfilled ambition, but there was
a calmness and happiness through the family that I was aware of. I hadn’t lived
anywhere that offered such fascination through the front windows of our
accommodation. South Pier, the beach, the sea in all its moody glory, the
promenade that filled with people as spring turned to summer and summer ended
with the Illuminations. Bay windows meant our view had a long stretch in both
directions. Donkeys on the beach – I would hear their bells as they arrived and
departed. Of course, those thundering trams trundling the length of the prom
from Starr Gate to Fleetwood and they were loud. At least, loud is how I remember
them and they seemed to be more noisy in the winter months when they had the promenade
to themselves. During the Illuminations, there was, for me, the added joy of
watching the illuminated trams go by, The Rocket, The Ship, The Boat and The
Western Train which we always called the Puffer Train Tram, the one my sister
looked out for.
Eventually I got to have a ride on one of the clanging
monstrosities. I think our housekeeper,
Auntie Kathy, took us – that’s my sister and me – the first time. Other times
we went with our mum and even Nanna was persuaded to come along on one of her
visits.
As an adult, I have appreciated our Blackpool and Fylde
coast line more than I ever did in childhood. When the new, smooth and quieter
trams came on track I enjoyed taking the trip from Starr Gate to Fleetwood and
back, just to look at the sea. The trams have been part of Blackpool since
1885, which makes them older than the Tower. They are an essential part of
public transport for Blackpool and Fleetwood as well as a popular tourist
attraction.
Moving pubs meant moving town, leaving behind the familiar
comforts and friends to start again somewhere. It wasn’t always welcome but,
looking back, I think I coped with the disruption. I have fond memories of
people and places that were part of my childhood.
Back to the here and now, weather permitting, we’ll go out
for lunch tomorrow to one of our favourite venues. If the weather is against
us, we’ll stay cosy and make use of our food supply.
Ride along the front
A new, smooth electric tram,
Starr Gate to Fleetwood.
How quiet they are!
Almost silent on the tracks
Where others thunder’d,
Rattled and trundled,
Those balloons of cream and green
Belonged to Blackpool.
Me, a nine year old,
Found so much fascination
Through our front windows.
And it got better,
Much to my delight, some trams,
Illuminated!
The ship, the rocket,
And the very best of all –
The Western train tram.
The new trams are good,
Accessible and comfy,
Have a seaside treat.
Choose a sunny day.
It’s an amazing journey
The best North West coast.
PMW 2024
Thanks for reading, Pam x
