As always – the change of profile picture is a clue to the next big adventure!
During half term, my trusty travelling companion, Steven and I will be taking the train to visit Jack and Kirsty!
Having used £10 of Tesco’s tokens to invest in a Friends and Family Railcard, I have procured return tickets for Steven and myself to Manchester at the bargain price of £50 – the same price as a tank of petrol! This Railcard may change our lives… although, on the down side, you can only use it when travelling with a child of your choice!
Before we left, I emailed our old Secondary School – Holy Trinity in Gossops Green, explaining that I had joined in 1969 which was two years after it had opened and that we hadn’t been back for nearly 50 years and would it be possible to have a quick look round if it wasn’t inconvenient. Clearly it was! They responded with a link to their website which explained that they were trying to arrange a celebration in December as it was 50 years since the queen opened the school. They were looking for an old pupil for each of the years the school had been open and particularly anyone who was at the opening.
I politely explained that due to work and family commitments our trip had already been arranged and it wouldn’t be possible to come in December however I had been present when the school was opened by the queen and my mother had copies of all the newspaper cuttings and various bits of school paperwork and I would be happy to forward copies of them if they wanted and we would satisfy ourselves with giving the school a wave from afar when we visited.
Response – still waiting! Rude!
Then I began to try and think of school memories. Well – bullying, fighting, being told I was rubbish at English. Yes, I remember now, when I got my Education degree with English specialism, I was going to send a copy to them to stick it in a place where the sun doesn’t shine! Being in trouble for staging a sit-down strike on the netball court because we wanted to play football instead of netball – it was the 1970’s – and, yes, we did it for you Lionesses!
I realised I didn’t have too many great memories from secondary school, so there you go, maybe going back wasn’t such an important thing after all.
On the first day we arrived, we did drive into the school around about 5 o’clock and tried to get our bearings but it was a bit tricky as we felt a little bit like weirdo prowlers!
On the final day, before we left, we visited the school again as Diane wanted to go and look at the woods where she remembers playing. My only memory of the woods was cross country running! We, once again as prowlers, wandered round the boundary of the school.
So that was it – one of the few disappointments of our trip!
I had arranged to meet with Carol and promised that Diane and I would take her out for a meal (and wine of course!) Carol has been a friend since I we were 3 years old, went to primary school together then to different secondaries but somehow have kept in touch over the years.
We decided on Frankie and Benny’s and over a bottle of wine – sorry none for Diane as she was driving! – we reminisced for hours and put the world to rights in the way only a huddle of old ladies can! We dropped Carol off, knowing it’ll probably be another ten years before we do this again and returned to our B&B.
In the Swinging Sixties, our parents were at the heart of the developing Crawley New Town. Freddo was on the council and they were invited to every event going!
As a result, Freddo’s name was on a plaque at the swimming pool and the Civic Hall, both of which were opened when he was a councillor. We knew the swimming pool had been closed for some while but thought the Civic Hall was worth a visit. Disaster – it was surrounded by builders’ fencing and closed – declared unsafe.
That morning we had laughed with a group of lads from Essex who were staying at our B&B about our mission and one of them had joked that maybe if the building was being renovated that if we asked the builders where the plaque was, they would pull it out of a skip and say they were chucking it out anyway and here it was, have it! Closer to the truth than we may have thought!
The Town Hall was next door, so we thought it was worth a visit to see if we could get some information about what was going on at the Civic Hall.
Stop – at a moment of disappointment and uncertainty – it had to be a robin moment! Out of a bush at the front of the Town Hall hopped a robin! Quick scramble for the camera but, yet again, it was too quick for us. Little sod – Raymond’s teasing us – payback for all those years, especially the remote-control prank!
We walked into the Town Hall and there, on the wall, were a number of plaques, one of which related to the opening of the Town Hall and there was Councillor Mabbs’ name! Only problem – there was a desperate elderly lady talking to a council employee at a table in front of the plaque. Definitely inappropriate to ask them to move or to have them in the picture! We waited for what seemed like an eternity but was probably ten minutes at the most. Eventually, the lady left and we got our photo!
We were going to get a bus back to Ifield but with a lack of help from the bus driver and the apparent irregularity of the buses, we decided to find out what the cost of a taxi from the station over the road would be – £6 – that’ll do nicely.
We liked the logo as the leaves match the colours on the neighbourhood street names! Langley Green – grey!
By this time Diane was desperate for coffee and civilisation seemed far away. We walked along the Lowfield Heath road, along the airport boundary, where I remember going horse riding as a child. We could see a church spire alongside a radar tower at the airport. Heads down and marching onward, we arrived at main roads and roundabouts but finally – a bus stop. We wanted to take the 405 into town but that had long gone, replaced by boring numbers like 4, 5 and 100! (Which, in fairness on Countdown, could be made into 405!)
We got off by Queen’s Square where many things had changed – the clock, the bandstand, the fountains, the kiosk and the shops. The fountains were lovely – an opportunity to wash off my muddy boots, the clock had disappeared completely due to the impossibility of maintenance, the kiosk was a much larger building of shops and the bandstand we later found in the Memorial Gardens!
Even a shop that sells things you might find in a Bulgarian hotel!
We found a place for lunch and refuelled – we were far from done!
We recreated a postcard, which hopefully, our parents have now received. It was one Mrs M had thrown out in the old tat she gives us; Diane had taken it; brought it with her and now it was returning to its rightful owner!
We also visited the museum and bought Mrs M a present.
We sat reading the multitude of books they had and we found a school photo of two friends who used to go to the athletics club with Diane… cue old photo of the Wagstaff twins!
We wandered around town spotting various landmarks we knew and some that had changed beyond recognition. We recognised the library building that we used to go to a lot, although the actual library has now moved and the Golden Griddle, cinema, bowling alley and the Starlight Ballroom are now Morrisons!
We ploughed on, not entirely convinced of our arguments, when – an ongoing theme re-emerged.
When we were at Tilgate Park, as we walked down to the lake, a robin hopped out of a bush. I grabbed my phone to take a photo but it was too quick and the robin was gone. It had to be Raymond! Folklore (bunkum I hear you say, and I don’t necessarily disagree!) says that a robin appears at a moment when a dead loved one is around. As Raymond would have visited Tilgate Park with us, this was rather a fun idea which made us titter for a while!
Anyway, back to walking along the riverbank, all of a sudden, a robin hopped out of a bush. Once again, a scramble to get the camera out and, once again, thwarted! We laughed at the idea that once again he was there with us!
Then, not much more than a couple of hundred metres – a pipe! Not the huge, light-coloured one of our memories that you would sit astride and shuffle over to the other side that was just over a child’s height drop into the shallow water but a black painted one that was draining water into the river from either side so there was no shuffling from one side to the other. This was good enough for us – I went and sat astride the pipe – still with the ever-present fear of falling in! The pipe was close to a bridge as we had remembered, so although, maybe it had been replaced – this was as good as it got. Mmmm… thoughts… why did we go across the pipe when there was a bridge so close? Because we could?!
Our next mission was to retrace our childhood freedom – over the fields!
Then…
Now…
We went through the entrance, amazingly all very much the same! The fields were even as big as we remembered although there was a gate at the far side where there hadn’t been one before which caused me to recount the times we were asked to run along with a white hanky clipped to a lead so Susie, the pet greyhound, would chase it and Diane remembered ‘gifrat’ walk time which is what we used to say to the dog when it was time for a walk. I believe the origin of the of the word ‘gifrat’ is ‘gift wrapped’ which relates to a television (possibly even a radio) programme that used to be on at that time.
We went past the adventure playground which no longer had a ‘crashed’ helicopter in it. After contemplation, we decided that perhaps the helicopter hadn’t crashed at all but was just old and battered. If it had been in some sort of accident, clearly, our adult brains told us, it would have been a. a subject of an enquiry and b. most distasteful! The adventure playground now had what seemed like a more ecological slant with raised beds and projects in it, rather than the risky Health and Safety hazard it had been when we were children. Much digging with full sized spades, sawing and hammering nails into wood took place. It was surprising that only one child at school had missing fingers and in fairness they weren’t down to the adventure playground. At least he couldn’t have them smacked by Mr Redgrave’s ruler – yes that was okay back then. Despite the fear of corporal punishment back then, it didn’t stop some people eating crab apples!! I’m looking at you Diane!
Important footnote to this ^ from Diane!! – Mr Redgrave whacked my fingers with the ruler for pinging my straw out of the little milk bottle but not the crab apple offences – that was our father’s rough justice!
Past the BMX track, which had been built shortly before we left in 1974 and through towards Cherry Lane. The line of trees was still there and the playground equipment although updated, including a wheelchair swing and a roundabout with a seat as well as space to stand. There was the cricket pavilion but not exactly in the place I remembered although I think that may be more of a flawed memory. Diane walked over to what she thought were the tennis courts that she used to play on only to find they were ramshackle cricket nets. I did agree that there had been tennis courts somewhere because each June, at Wimbledon time, we would play tennis. I remember we had two tennis racquets – now being sold on Facebook! – and some tennis balls that we got from the Green Shield shop that were in a sealed tin. This I remember as a bit of novelty at the time. It was at the heyday of Bjorn Borg, Ilie Nastase, Jimmy Connors, Billy Jean King … and so on however, the location of said courts is still unknown!
Those tennis racquets!
At this point, Diane, in dire need of a coffee, decided to sit down for a while whilst I went in search of ‘the pipe’! I went through the fence at the far side of the field which all had a familiar feel. At one point a rabbit skipped across in front of me which had an Alice in Wonderland note about it. The bridges looked the same, the fields over the back were right, the fence was right but, at the same time, it wasn’t right. Diane, rested, eventually came over to look and agreed that everything seemed right, so we decided to follow the river. As we walked along, we came to the conclusion that we were following the correct route but when we were children, it was very light – the footpath was light-coloured dry clay and there was white cow parsley with those red beetles on. Of course, that was fifty years ago, so taking that into consideration, along with the fact it was October not July, it was enough to explain that it seemed dark because it was autumn not summer; the mud was slimy and wet because it was on clay and this is what fifty years of tree growth looked like thus providing a canopy of leaves making it darker.
We rounded the corner by the flats where I had lived for the first year of my life. We had spoken about the low barrier that surrounded the grass by the flats earlier and we were amazed to see that most of it was still there. It was a pole and concrete posts and childhood memories included time spent balancing or sitting on them. Clearly built to last! Diane prowled round the flats to investigate the garden area and I managed to take a photo, albeit of the wrong flat! At this point, it definitely felt quite intrusive so we retreated to the ‘green’ – an area of grass in front of our old house.
Then…
Now…
The one thing that had struck us as returnees was the number of trees and green areas which led to discussion about good old Ebenezer Howard and the Garden City Movement which was the foundation for many of the New Towns built after the war. It was good to see that many of these parts hadn’t been infilled but we also found that our impression wasn’t shared by many residents who see, as with most towns in the UK, the enormous amount of building taking place.
As we stood there, people went into the house where we used to live – Should we? Could we ask if we could look round?! No – how would we feel if two old ladies came up and wanted to look round our house? – Too intrusive! We then tried to take some photos of the green, including our old house. We then moved on to Stephen Close – I was convinced that you used to be able to fit four cars in the parking area at the end – but now – only three! We tried to see over the fences to our old back garden but could only see a huge satellite dish and a large conservatory. Diane wondered if the log cabin was still there – Freddo’s attempt at DIY – a shed I think it was supposed to be but it was basically a whole load of halved tree trucks nailed together and steadied by the wall! We thought probably not.
We then found the triangular area in the corner of Stephen Close which used to be filled with bushes covered in small berries that used to be eaten by different children on a regular basis which would end up with a hospital visit. There was also the only tree that I could ever climb as it was small and had places to put your feet to lift you up to about …erm… about a metre off the ground. Of course, back then it would have been a yard! Well, both the bushes and the tree had gone, so photo opportunity presents itself. Picture taken – then we are approached by a man from the house at the end of Stephen Close. ‘Can I ask why you are taking photos of my house…?’ Explanation given and he retreated!
The walking route continued – up Martyrs Avenue towards our old primary school which we knew had been replaced by a small mental health hospital. We wanted to find Depot Road where we used to pick blackberries from. We found it but the access was blocked after about 200 metres by the hospital and although access to the waste tip which was at the far end of Depot Road was still possible from the London Road, we didn’t feel it would be the same at all! Good news though – we did find some blackberries in that 200 metres!
I also recalled the locations of the old house in Old Martyrs which had an empty swimming pool at the back that I had played in and Redlands Café where my mum used to send me with a written note to buy cigarettes for her!!
We wandered up to Manor Royal to see if we could recall the location of Youngman’s where our dad had worked and I had a summer job in 1974 (can’t beat a bit of nepotism!). All we could find was the area once filled with MEL, APV and Youngman’s was now covered by Thale’s.
Today was going to involve walking, in fact as it turned out, 7.7 miles and over some rough and wet terrain too!
We left after breakfast and walked along the main road heading towards Langley Green. The main contemplation for most of the day was whether the presence of planes is more intrusive than it was 50 years ago – of course it is! The quantity and size of the planes using Gatwick makes it so!
Walking along Bonnets Lane
Crossing the River Mole
We headed towards Langley Parade where we wondered if we would find all the old shops we used to visit. Along the way we saw familiar names such as Hare Lane.
It took a while for each memory to emerge – yes this was where Pamela Brighty lived. Cue ancient photo – Diane on far right next to Pamela Brighty!
Arriving at Langley Parade, we establish that the greengrocers, the pet shop, the hairdressers and the Co-op are in the right places but also establish that maybe our memories are not quite so solid in respect of the little hardware store that sold cheap chalk ornaments suitable for mother’s day!!
The pet shop is closed!
But what about the rest?! Loving the typically fifties/sixties style flats above the shops!
The christening certificates give a clue to the next stop – St Leonard’s Church!
However, St Leonard’s is no longer St Leonard’s!
But the door where the Christening photos were taken is still there, albeit with what looks like a bullet hole in the glass!
Finally, before moving on – the church hall which we hired for our leaving party in 1974.
Acorns and oak trees! I never understood why some people were unsure about what an oak tree, leaf or acorn looked like. Wasn’t it obvious? Well yes, if you were from Crawley! The number of oak trees, all with a further 50 years growth on them, is amazing. Everywhere there were acorns underfoot. This is why I had no difficulty identifying them!
We were also amazed at the number of mushrooms everywhere…
As we approached our old house – this tree was never this big!
Yvonne's Great Adventures 