Left to Right: Me, Mother, Mirry, Barry
Mother relaxing by the paddling pools
Me in the caravan
Barry left, Me right, with new found friends
On 27thFebruary I published an article recollecting going by bus on day trips to Skegness. A year or two later, probably because we were a bit better off, my mother and I, together with my mothers best friend and her son Barry, went to Skegness for a one week caravan holiday. The caravan site was a little way out of Skegness at a place called Winthorpe. It was around 1950 and I would be nine or ten years old at the time. This was our first seaside holiday, previous holidays had been visiting either family or friends. To me it meant great excitement and from knowing we were going, to the day we finally set off, seemed an eternity. I cannot for the life of me remember how we got there. I don't remember going on a train and neither family owned a car, so I presume it was arranged that someone who did own a car would take us. To me, living in a caravan was a great adventure and the fact it was near Skegness made it even more exciting. Early morning was filled with the chatter of holiday maker's as they made their way between the rows of caravans to the communal ablutions blocks, several radio's could be heard playing in the distance and the smell of frying bacon rashers wafted through the air. Between the caravan site and the sea was a busy road that ran past Butlin's and down to Ingoldmells. Just over that road and opposite the site was a corner shop, which apart from the usual beach items also sold essential groceries. Most days began with a with a walk to the shop to get needed items such as milk, bread and tea. In no time at all Barry and I made friends with other boys of our own age, and most mornings we would spend our time on the caravan site playing football, cricket, hide-and seek or maybe flying some ones kite. In the afternoons we would catch a bus that stopped outside the caravan site and go up to Skegness. Once there we would spend time on the beach before doing the usual rounds, the paddling pools, the boating lake, the putting greens, the pier, the arcades and shops. Then it was back to the caravan for tea, usually cold meat and salad. Immediately opposite the caravan site, over the main road, there was another road that led to the beach, about 300 yards. On the edge of the beach was a small arcade and cafe where we could buy ice cream, candy floss and milkshakes. most early evenings were spent there. At the entrance to the site was a pub, the Royal Oak, and most evenings around 9.30 mother and her friend Mirry, presumably short for Miriam, used to go there for a social night out. Barry and I, and some of our new found friends, would sit outside with the obligatory glass of pop and packets of crisps. Outside the front of the pub was a stall selling seafood and most nights my packet of crisps was supplemented with a bag of shrimps. When the holiday was over it was back to Metheringham to continue the school summer holidays. The old routine seemed rather flat and boring after the bright lights of Skegness, but during the ensuing weeks I relived that holiday many times over in my mind.
