Day three in Sussex and backtracking on a world of happy memories. I can recall the journey being exremely tedious and filled with "are we there yet?" quite regularly. I can remember halfway being somewhere in the vicinity of Burgh Heath but I could be way off track on that one. Back in the day I made that journey in a bright yellow Lotus Elan, a large black Cadillac (with a black and white TV in the back...Quite ahead of its time in 1969 as it was on the calendar); a variety of small and dangerous mini's, a vanguard saloon car and no doubt many other carriages besides.
On this day in 2012 we travelled in another age, in comfort and with a different mindset. Distance as you age seems not to have the same debilitating effect that it has on children. Stop, I need a wee!
The road into Bracklesham is littered with derelict past times..The Selsey Tram is boarded up and other once gleaming premises now look more than a little jaded. The Lively Lady would perhaps be better addressed as the grubby old tart circa 2012. Shame!
As we headed out from from the Chichester roundabout my mind always seems to turn back to a time when in the company of the Green's, we watched Roger Moore as James Bond in Live and Let Die. 1973 it was and at 15 years old I was the senior kid of a bunch of nine. If I happen to glance at that movie now I cringe...What possessed them to dress like that?
I digress....and probably will again so please excuse me.
Our first port of call was Dell Quay and the Pub on the water front. Coffee's for the travelling party on the deck. Dell Quay looked a little gray on this day but has some spectacular sunsets in the summer months. The pub like any quality British hostelry; had character in abundance.
Coffee drunk and recognising we were slightly early for lunch we took a drive out to Chichester Harbour. Yet again a distant memory always leaps to the front of my cranium when I revisit this place. It goes like...."We all love daddy because he's nice and good". I'll stop right there because again I'm starting to cringe. The harbour yet again seems smaller than I remember; less larger than life. Perhaps there's some role reversal going on here and its me that is now larger than life! Have to give that some thought. Certainly larger than I was back in the day.
It was then back to the car and off to the seaside. Driving past Holdens Holiday Camp, Cliffords Cottage (green infested thatched roof :-( ). The aformentioned Grubby Slag and then a right turn an off into East Wittering.
Lunchtime after a bit of fresh sea air beckoned and we reckoned on a pub on one of the backroads out of East Wittering. The pub sadly on arrival presented as another derelict hulk closed due to the lack of seasiders during the summer. I remeber this pub being a busy vibrant place where we played Bar Billiards and drank Ginger Beer or Lemonade Shandy as kids. Lashings as I recall. It was abouth this time I can remember ploughing through all the Enid Blyton Famous Five hardbacks while resting in the bedroom at Southbrook. Dark red book covers with gold embossed titles. Hurrah for Kirrin Island, Aunt Fanny and Uncle Quentin.
We continued along the same road and eventually at a cross roads spotted a sign for Itchenor. So 'twas then we tripped to Itchenor Harbour to find a pub. Generally a good bet one will be there and generally serving good food for well behaved customers. We took a walk down to the front, breathed a couple times; remarked on the view and then headed to the pub to eat. Some excellent sandwiches and a decent pint of beer. Misty, Chris and Pauls Spaniel was our leashed company. A great dog by the way!!
Appetite satisfied it was time to head into East Wittering, take a walk along the beach to Bracklesham and recall vividly the dozens of gatherings on the beach, the wood fires, the singing and the arrest of myself in a sad case of mistaken identity. A madman wearing yellow swimming trunks was reported missing from a local asylum (so the story goes!) I apparently fitted the description perfectly. It was close run thing because without others to plead my innocence alongside me I might still be incarcerated to this very day.
Shore Road is quite similar to what it was. The stores have changed a little nonetheless. The Singing Sands has stoped singing. Tesco and the Co-op are now present. The Butchers, Greengrocers, Sweetshop and some other diehards remain, and thats nice. I actually had a request from new work colleages in Canada to bring old fashioned toffees back. Until this sweetshop I couldn't find what was required.
Shore Road was much the same and walking past Munneries I remember all of us staying there once with Mum. It was the closest to the beach we could afford at that time but no worries. Took no time to get to the beach and we did what we always did back then, made do with a large smile on the face.
Dolphins and Southbrook are not what they were. The magic that was both those holiday homes has been replaced by modern, confortable buildings totally out of keeping with what seaside holiday homes should be about. If its not a couple of old train carriages welded together or a ramshackle old hut with a slanted roof drop off its not going to cut it. Southbrook was magic; it had something very special. Granted it was probably as much to do with the company as anything else, but I can still see the kitchen, the bathroom, the bedrooms and the do eveything and anything room across the back of the whole house. Loved that place; it gave us so many smiles when we most needed then. Back in those days ten quid covered holiday costs from ice creams to games to souvenirs to postcards.
Dolphins was more upmarket but still had a familiar smell and air about it. The greatest con of all time took place in a caravan in the back garden. We kids took money from the adults to buy ice creams and coke and crisps and then sold them back to the adults 'shop front' style and made a profit. In hindsight we would have saved loads of time just asking for the cash but then the fun would have evapourated.
Another first occurred here in Bracklesham and that was rock pooling. At the end of each breakwater (groyne) the sand washed out and crabs and all manner of sea creatures without the brines to catch the returning tide loitered without intent.
One of the beach front homes had a wall mural that captured the 2012 Olympic success enjoyed by Team GB very nicely.
Our last visit along memory lane was Sorrento. I stayed here with Chris, Paul and then their very young family. Brother Mark was also there as were Colin and Pauline Lambert and their two young children Shane and Kelly. We painted stomes from the beach, we doodle-arted to our hearts content, we played cards. Goodnight and may your God Go with You Mark called out after a round of Waltons style goodnights and the whole house collapsed in tears of laughter.
Bracklesham Bay and East Wittering fondly remembered but the heyday now distant and lost in another time. Goodbye fancy dress; goodbye taking turns making the dinner; goodbye a golden age.
Very similar to my memories of Bracklesham and East Wittering. Lovely read!
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