Once upon a time, back in the hazy summers of youth,
a daytrip to a seaside resort was considered one of the highlights of the
school holidays. Wherever you went, be it Blackpool, Bournemouth, Brighton or
Skegness you were virtually guaranteed a great day out.
I’m from the North-West so Blackpool was my family’s
seaside destination and us kids looked forward to visiting every year. I’m not
sure if the parents did but they weren’t important except as sources of
transportation and money.
As I’ve gotten older I’ve come to see Blackpool as a
tacky little town full of drunks and fools, but when I was a small lad it was
fucking Wonderland. The Pleasure Beach, the piers, the Sandcastle, the tower
and the zoo, it was the perfect place for any kid to really enjoy themselves.
As soon as the first really hot weekend of the
summer holidays appeared the parents would bundle us into the car (after first
making sure we’d had a good breakfast), and hit the road. It seemed to take
forever to get there, but doesn’t it always when you’re eager to get somewhere?
It actually takes less than an hour to get there, from where I live anyhow, but
trust me to an eager young lad that’s a fucking lifetime. When the parents said
we were near close to Blackpool my brother, sister and me would all get quite
excited and squabble to see which of us could spot Blackpool Tower first. I was
always the first, unfortunately I never got a prize for that.
Anyway we’d arrive early, park up somewhere fairly
cheap and head off for the Pleasure Beach (if you’re taking kids to Blackpool
that’s always the first destination). Even now I could quite easily spend all
day at the Pleasure Beach, it’s only bettered by Alton Towers in my opinion. There’s
something for all ages on the Pleasure Beach, famous old rollercoaster’s like
The Big Dipper and The Grand National, dodgem cars, water rides and plenty of
arcades for older, cool kids. There’s also a fair few pubs for the weary
parent. I was never much for the rollercoaster’s as a young lad, I’ll admit
they quite scared me, I was to be found most often in the arcades, playing the
most recent games and wasting plenty of 2p’s on the coin pushing machines.
We’d never spend all day on the Pleasure Beach,
after a while the parents would want to leave and walk the promenade and visit
at least one of Blackpool’s three piers, where there was more arcade goodness. It
was always a bit of fun to go running the length of those rickety old piers and
see the worry on adult faces, whether that was worry that we may somehow
(impossibly) go over the edge, or that we’d collapse the pier around them I
never knew.
After a spot of dinner on the pier, usually a tray
of chips and gravy on the south pier, we’d continue to be dragged up the
promenade. As a punishment to the parents for making us leave the Pleasure
Beach we’d make damn sure to try and drag them into every gift shop we could
see, and as anyone who’s ever visited Blackpool will know there’s fucking loads
of gift shops, seems like one in every three shops is a souvenir seller. And
you know what? Every damn shop sells Blackpool Rock, in my opinion possibly the
worst thing ever to be sold as confectionary. Even though I hated it (and still
do), I always made sure to get some bought for me, it’s that punishment thing.
Most of the items on sale were things only a kid could love; stickers, masks,
little plastic models of Blackpool Tower and cheaply made teddy’s.
If we weren’t being particularly bratty on the day
we’d sometimes walk all the way to Blackpool Tower from the Pleasure Beach,
quite a trek for an adult never mind a school kid. The walk was always worth it
though, if only to laugh at the little monkey zoo inside, which I think they’ve
now removed, the bastards. If the lift was working you could go up to the top
of the tower, were you had a spectacular view and possible danger of being
blown over to Ireland.
We’d always end the day back at the Pleasure Beach,
well there’d be uproar if we never, ready to waste more money on the 2p
machines and rides and where I’d come in for a bit more mockery for my refusal
to ride the rollercoaster’s. I never actually went on any rollercoaster until
I’d left school and was working, nowadays I love them.
The trip home was usually quiet, with everyone being
tired out from all the walking and money spending and possible fighting, but us
kids were generally quite satisfied at having a good day. The parents were very
glad that they’d tired us out and made sure we’d all be having an early night.
I miss those childhood Blackpool trips, it seemed
like the greatest place in the world back then, now I rarely ever want to back
there. It’s sad.
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