Last Friday we went to Brighton on a coach. I was escorting our precious cargo of ladies. The driver wasn’t what you would call the brightest spark! He did get us there albeit via Worthing, Hastings and all points east! I jest but it sure seemed like it.
The wind was like a howling gale of banshees. It caught the chairs like they were sails of the Cutty Sark.
The meal was pleasant if functional for ones stomach.
After lunch we sat along the pier in a real sun trap and my mind slipped back to Monday the 18th May 1964 – a bank holiday.
That day started at ten in the morning with the Holborn boys meeting at Russell square. Then down Kingsway and across Waterloo Bridge where we hooked up with the Elephant mods. South to the Old Kent road joining the Deptford mods. There was a lot of us by now – about 70-100. I must explain the Deptford boys were all Millwall supporters and were the Neanderthals of our group. The Hounslow rockers were the Neanderthals of our rivals.
I remember when we arrived in Brighton at about 12.30 there were more than a thousand on the beach – I kid you not! In the centre of the crowd were about 40 handbags swinging, or so it seemed. We all shouted “let me at ‘em”. We felt brave because we were 40 yards from the centre.
Then back on our Vespa’s and Lamberetta’s with spot light tank ariels and fox tails dangling in our parka’s we headed home.
The following night we were telling our modesses how brave we had been!
Ah! Happy days…….