MySentimentsExactlyI was a child in the 60s and have fond memories of going on holiday with my family to Weymouth where the sea is safe to swim in and there is a nice beach.
Yes @cruzeroqueen 1. I am female
Yes @cruzeroqueen 1. I am female.
The 1960s. What a wonderful decade that took me through my teen years, leaving junior school and into secondary, then college. The music, Beetles, Stones, The Who and my favourite, Manfred Man, (a crush on Paul Jones). And what about The Man From Uncle? Swoon. The clothes and the rows over my first mini skirt and bikini, then the hippy era, long skirts and flowers in my hair. A wonderful time and a time when friends and I used to hitch hike up to the Lake District to youth hostel, walk and have fun. An innocent time.
It was also the era when I, then 15, first traveled solo, from Skipton to Paris. My parents saw me off on the overnight coach from Bradford to Victoria coach station London, where I was to pick up the coach to a remote airport in the south for the flight to a remote airport in France, and the coach trip to Paris where I was to be met by my penpal, Chantel Coulard,and her family. I knew nothing about this sort of travel and didn’t know there was a Skyways Coach Air terminal at Victoria coach station so I looked for a coach going to, or near, my airport. It was leaving the same time as my ticket stated and I had two hours to kill.
Had there been a young man travelling down from Bradford with me or did I meet him at Victoria? I don’t remember but we spent a very pleasant two hours wandering on the embankment before returning to Victoria. That is when I discovered my mistake. No, I did not have a ticket for that coach and was pointed in the right direction.
The Skyway’s check in were not impressed. I was given a lecture but allowed to board the next coach, three hours later. A message would be sent to inform the Coulards. At last I was on my way with no more mishaps, and enjoyed the magic of the first flight on my own and travelling on foreign land, seeing French trees, grass, cows. I had to pinch myself. It was all real and soon I would be in Paris for an amazing adventure.
Since then I have travelled extensively and enjoyed many solo trips. Maybe that trip was where I caught the travel bug. I hope it never leaves me.
These posts are wonderful. I have been travelling these last few days in Spain to promote and talk about the new novel, The House on the Edge of the Cliff. Back to France this evening but our luggage is still travelling! I love stories and memories of holidays with no money and tasting and smelling new perfumes for the first time. Do keep these coming. I am having a ball reading them. This will be tough, Andrew!
Thanks @Carol-OliveFarm for participating once more in this Silver Travel Book Club Forum…you’ve really helped to elicit some wonderful memories of 1960s holiday experiences from members.
@linkeditor – what a great tale of adventurous rail travel in Scandinavia, as a callow 18 year-old. And how special to have that 6/6/66 paperwork. Hope you got back in time for the World Cup win though?
@Flickers – thanks for making me smile at the thought of your Brighton shenanigans.
@Happy_Traveller-3 – great memories of a traditional English seaside holiday in Weymouth
@Geety – well done for combining both your memories of 1960s holidays and Provence, where Carol lives and where this month’s Silver Travel Book Club book of the month ‘The House on the Edge of the Cliff’ is set.
@Lottie – love your Dublin and Ireland memories, and how serendipitous to have chanced on a James Herriot book recently.
@Susan13 – your vivid memories of an impoverished holiday in Cornwall just prove that you don’t need huge amounts of money to create enduring travel experiences and memories.
@terrypaul12 – what a special memory of your father opening up about his WW2 experiences, huddled in a tent somewhere in Germany.
And thanks @Grosvenor for your personal and moving memories of travelling in Egypt. Very poignant.
Please keep these lovely comments coming, and make our decision about who wins a copy of Carol’s book a difficult one!
There are passages in ‘The House on the Edge of the Cliff’ which take place in Paris during the 1960s. What are some of your own best holiday memories during that decade? Or what travel experiences have you had in beautiful Provence?
On 6 June 1966 I was to use my first ever “continental free pass” as a railway employee so all documents had 6/6/66 on them!
I was to visit family friends just north of Oslo travelling via Harwich to Hook of Holland then train for 10 hrs to Copenhagen. Another train via Helsingborg and Helsingor ferry to Goteborg and finally to Oslo after a further 12 hours.
The BR overnight ferry was on strike and the passes could not be used at weekends so I left on the 2am “milk train” from York to connect with the Dutch boat and I slept on it at Hook of Holland in order to make the other connections. It was my first trip alone aged 18 and I was hopeless! I stood on the wrong platform in Copenhagen (mixing up track and platform numbers) and watched my train for Oslo leave without me! I found a hotel and was permitted to use my ticket 24 hrs later. With no house phone number let alone mobile phones I was relieved when my friends had returned to Oslo a day later to see if I had missed the correct train.
The 2 week annual leave resulted in less than a week’s stay because of the restrictions on free pass use but in spite of all this – it did give me the travel ‘bug’ which has remained to this day.
Reading Getty’s comment reminded me of the time my then fiance (now husband), and I went to Brighton on holiday. It was in 1967; I know that for a fact because I still have our ‘memory’ box. Like Getty, we were poverty-stricken but determined to visit the Old Tyme Music Hall on the pier. I can’t remember how much the tickets cost, but I do know the souvenir programme cost 6d. I remember us singing along to “We’ve been together now for forty years” never imagining that day would ever come! Spending all our cash on our evening out left us desperately short of money so for the rest of the week we ate at the Lyons Corner House. Lunch each day consisted of two sausages with chips shared between us. My dad insisted we booked two separate rooms on different floors at the b&b. When we arrived, the rooms were not only on different floors but in two adjoining buildings. My fiancé spent a lot of time creeping around with shoes in hand ready to make a quick getaway if the owner of the b&b were to catch him roaming around in the middle of the night!
I have written a lon story but something went wrong. It was not submitted…error. I’Lltry again when I have some time. Sorry