The Station Beano to Brighton.......
A 'Beano' in London is what used
to be called an outing to the seaside or somewhere similar. These days, people
just jump in a car and are there in about an hour but back in the 60's there
were no motorways to the coast, little or no money and very few, if any, of us
had cars. We hired a coach for such trips. So a Beano was something
to look forward to. In fact,
we used to save up for these special events.................
There
were several savings clubs at each station (2/6
– half-a crown a month). One in particular at our station was
the infamous 'Brighton
Trip'. We used to save up for months before it and when the actual
day arrived, the excitement was electric. It is unbelievable to
think in this day and age how truly excited we became at the prospect of a trip
to the seaside a mere 60 miles away. You would have thought that we were destined for the French Riviera..
Over
the years since, I have become quite fond of Brighton and have camped there several times when the children were
young. It is now quite a commercial city and a really nice place to
visit. In those days it was far from it as it was still trying to
survive on its memories of the glory days when it was the haunt of Kings,
Queens and other members of the Royal
Family. My son and his family now
live there and we visit regularly.
There
was a royal residence there going
back to the late 1700’s which was renovated around 1815. King George lV was a regular visitor who
took part in the wild life that is reputed to have taken place
there. However, Queen
Victoria hated it and refused to stay there with her large
family. Over the years the
Indian style buildings began to deteriorate and crumble.
In 1966
the city, the residence and other buildings were grotty and in need of
restoration. This was done in the 80’s and truthfully, the vast
building is now supposedly back to its former glory.
Enough
about that, let us return to my little story:
My
first trip was when I had been in London
for a mere five months. It was July 1966 and as I had not seen the
sea since I left home in Ireland I
therefore took my fishing tackle with me whilst the others intended to visit
the local race course.
Bright
and early, about 7.30am everything started at our police station where most of
the people who were going were congregated. Publicans were welcome, and woe
betide if one was not invited, be it because he was forgotten or otherwise,
because the landlord would be in fear that he was being targeted for a raid by
the local Superintendent for
after hours drinking or something similar.
We
stopped at several pubs in the locality before actually moving off, and the
luggage areas of the coaches were loaded, and I really mean loaded, with beer,
spirits and food, in particular bowls and bowls of jellied eels. Drinking
started as soon as you got on the coach and because of my inexperience and
incapacity to drink spirits, I was very drunk before we even reached London Bridge a mere
half hour and five miles away.
I don't
remember much after that, other than I did not go to the races but stayed all
day on the long pier. It was the first time I had seen the sea since
leaving Ireland,
and what with the gin and the feeling of homesickness, I sat there crying my
heart out all day......................
On the
return journey, we stopped at a large pub south of London which was owned by a
retired police officer. We drank ourselves sober, then got
drunk again. It was there that I saw my first striptease. I could not believe my eyes but during the
course of the act I needed a pee. I held on until the really big
lady had finished and ran to the toilet.
As I was returning, there she was in all
her glory in a passageway actually putting her clothes on. I stood
and watched and can say quite categorically that ‘it’ was even better than the earlier
stripping.
Talking
about saving for the Beanos: even for fishing trips, we had to save up. An
ordinary boat trip cost twenty-five shillings, five shillings for bait and five
shillings for petrol. Total:
almost two pounds........
I was
only earning, or at least taking home sixteen pounds a week, so you understand
it was comparatively expensive. In the summer, there was an extra special
fishing trip to Deal on the
South Coast in Kent, by coach with prizes on offer. This cost a little
extra...................
On
pay-day, I gave Her Ladyship,
my wife, two pounds extra to keep safe for the trip. As the day arrived I was
really worked up with excitement. We met and left in the coach. I had no extra
money for a drink or anything else other than one shilling, which she had
managed to keep aside.
The
competition was a disaster with little or no fish being caught and when
afterwards, the organiser invited us into a local fishermen’s club where beer
was on sale, I was truly financially embarrassed.
With a
shilling, or five new pence in my pocket, I could I suppose, if I had wished,
bought half a pint of beer, but that would only have been a teaser. I saw a slot machine and decided
that I would have a go. In went sixpence. I pulled the arm. Lots of noises.................. It
stopped....................... Nothing. .
In went
the other sixpence, my last....... I pressed the button. Again lots of noises.
Lots and lots more noises. Locals jump up and shout ˜Press that button there".
Not knowing why, I did and then began the magical sound. Loads and loads of
money. It just kept coming. Five pounds in two shilling pieces (10p's). I could
have cried with delight.
After
about four quick pints of beer, I bought another six bottles for the journey
home. I did not feel drunk; I was absolutely delighted and elated.
And
best of all, when I got home, I gave Her
Ladyship two pounds
˜to get herself something nice".
The end
to a perfect day......................
------------Mike-----------
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