Summertime Memories

One of the more worthwhile waits one can have around the end of May is for Summer. Unfortunately printed calendars can be woefully misleading especially if you, like me believe the arrival of Summer means bright sunny weather and a hatful of barbeque invites.

For us parents, the season is also signalled by end of term school reports, and a pile of school uniforms that either need to be steam cleaned, fumigated or replaced.

When I was really young, Summer was when the sun constantly shone, and when Mr. Whippy would pitch up in his van a few yards away from the school gate or from our front door. To the tune of ‘Greensleeves’ or something equally popular he would announce to parents withing a mile radius it was time to get off their backsides and stroll out the front door in order to get a dozen or so melting ice lollies.

Then there were trips to the amusement arcades where it was possible to take the controls of a Bumper Car and throw it around in any chosen direction as long as you caused dramatic collisions and hurled occupants of other cars out of their seats to the sound of a high pitched yelp. With parents permissions granted we could also legitimately devour sticks of rock or plunge our faces in a cloud of pink candy floss. Licking the sugary gloop off our palms and then wiping them all over any nearby clothing was equally satisfying.

One of my favourite memories is of a family holiday in Herne Bay. We went with our cousins and I remember fighting with them just before light out at bed time. Don’t know why. Another startling memory concerns our attendance at a seaside Magic Show, the main attraction, a bloke called Robert (a member of the Magic Circle or was it the Round Table?) was incredible. I don’t know what he did exactly but I do recall the cover of the programme being a dirty yellow colour and his face was smudged. Magic.

Holidays also meant football, flying kites, and a paddle or piddle in the sea, (sometimes both) while clinging to a rather dodgy lilo purchased ten minutes earlier courtesy of loving Grandparents. After 5 hours getting sun burnt on the beach we would realise that the older generation had quietly retreated back to their parked car and barricaded themselves inside. Probably to avoid Mr Whippys merry melodies.

‘Real camping’ (under canvas), walks and visits to anyone other than family members – was what we did when the weather was less than perfect or ‘inclement’. Fishing with Grandpa in the rain, however was brilliant fun.

Nowadays holidays are slightly different, bumper cars are few and far between and have been replaced by the rather tame Dodgems, and the discerning holiday maker still has the opportunity to dodge real traffic and queues with the help of AA Route Finders and Sat Navs. Mrs W with her map book open is for us a cheaper and more reliable alternative.

In addition to seeking out new unspoilt stretches of sandy beaches, National Trust properties with coffee shops and new branches of TKMaxx, I am still strangely drawn to introducing our own children to some of those places we used to cherish.

Holiday generosity

We were blessed with the generous gift of the holiday, and once the accommodation was booked, the practicalities associated with same, became something of a temporary focus and distraction. Decisions such as what to take, would it actually fit in the car, and could we afford it, came to mind. There was little doubt that we were in need of the break and were confident that we’d continue to be provided for.

Before we set off on our travels we prayed as a family, for good travelling, good health and the provision of all we needed, particularly food and petrol money. Our National Trust membership would ensure we would not be bereft of ideas for days out. Before we left home, I received a phone call totally and completely out of the blue one morning promising us a cheque – this prompted huge smiles all round. God indeed was looking out for us. This £500 was part of His wonderful provision. Thank you M and G.

In addition, our good friends J and L generously contributed to our ice cream holiday fund, and the envelope remained unopened for a few days in our kitchen. We were eventually, rather gobsmacked to find that their generosity would actually translate to each of us enjoying up to twenty five ice creams each during our week away! In this regard we were failures, not even managing to gorge more than four each as it happens. We did however take full advantage of the wafers, cones, chocolate flakes, and syrups on offer. Maybe now home, we should now book Cholesterol tests?

In addition to eating, we made the most of our time in the region and took in Cragside House and Gardens, Howick Gardens, Wallington, Bamburgh Castle and beach, and the railway at the Ford and Etal, snapping pictures where we could. We also drove miles into the surrounding (and stunning) Northumbrian landscape, and twice made our ‘pilgrimage’ to the Holy Island of Lindisfarne…

(See also North by North East)