Dipping a Toe in ...

... It's usually into the water, which in this case is only partially true.  My original idea for a title this week was 'A dip into the past', but when I considered what I was going to write about, I changed my mind.  It's going to be fairly one-track.  I watched a DVD last night about East Anglia.  I saw it on the shelf and, with little better to do - or was it feeling like a night off? - I thought I'd look at it again.  The theme was a railway journey, but in the now well-established tradition of Michael Portillo (though it was nothing to do with him), there was a lot of 'while we're here, let's take a look at ...'.  Some of the places featured I've seen, but a lot of them I haven't.

My mind raced back through the years and I found myself thinking about the seaside.  Several resorts featured in the film, most of which I've visited at some time or another, but my favourite and the one with which I'm most familiar is Great Yarmouth.  As the comics in the end-of-the-pier shows used to say, 'Dear old Yarmouth ... you can tell that by looking in the shops.'  Goodness knows what they'd say now!  But it remains a place that's dear in my recollections.

Of course all holiday memories are bathed in sunshine.  As I watched those pictures, I thought, 'Yes, it would be lovely to go there ... and there ... but two things crossed my mind.  One was the difficulty of travel: on the one hand parking the car; on the other the paucity of public transport - one train every two hours on the East Suffolk line! - and the second thing was the weather.  It's no good getting off a train or out of the car, into the pouring rain and expecting to enjoy a casual wander around the town - life just doesn't work that way!

Holidays for me, as I think I've said before, meant the seaside ... up to teenage, at least.  There was a taxi to get from home to the station - a mile out of town, thanks to a Victorian landowner who put his foot down when the railway was being built - and another at the end of the journey to get to the boarding house.  It was fun to watch some of the local youngsters struggling with their handcarts as they pushed people's luggage while their 'customers' walked in leisurely fashion behind.  I expect that would have been a lot cheaper than the taxi, but mum and dad probably thought it less secure.  I wonder how many of those boys grew up to be taxi-drivers!

In Yarmouth, there was plenty to occupy our time for the week.  Several shows to book for in the evenings, and usually the Hippodrome Circus one afternoon.  Along the promenade were people who would record your weight, writing it on a card for you to keep.  They used a big balance, and we would watch the weights being piled on the plate, counting up the 'hidden truth'.  There were also photographers, who would snap people walking along, and hand out a slip of paper, so you could go along to their stall later and buy the prints, and order extra copies for your friends if they were good ones.  There were horses and carriages, in which the more well-to-do would parade their finery as they drove along the seafront. 

If we didn't go to a show, there might be an evening walk along the waterfront or down the promenade, and a portion of chips - in newspaper! - to munch on the way back to our lodging.  Some mornings mum might have shopping to do, leaving dad and me to wander; often we would sit on the quay and watch the activity on the boats that seemed to come from far and wide to what was still a thriving port.  As I grew older, I was trusted to go around on my own, and I delighted in the doughnuts (before they were lazily called 'donuts') that were 6d each or 3 for 1/- from the stalls on the front.

Another treat in later years was to go on one of the coach tours that could be booked from a kiosk on the prom.  Some would go as far as Sandringham, but there were others that only went for a few hours around some of the Broadland villages, places we wouldn't otherwise have seen.  It was on one of these excursions that I first visited Reedham.  This was one of the places featured on last night's DVD, where there is a unique chain ferry to cross the Yare - the only river crossing below Norwich.  There's been a ferry there for centuries, saving people a 30-mile road trip, and today it's a family business, led by David Archer ... and he doesn't commute from Ambridge!