I’m currently enjoying a birthday break in Dumfries & Galloway, where so far, the snow has missed us out. The temperature is below freezing. Blue skies, sunshine and hardly a breeze, but that may change in a day or two, according to the weather forecast, even in this micro climate pocket. It’s cosy in our favorite lodge. This is my happy place. While I’m relaxing I’m reminiscing about my childhood and my first encounter with trams.
That second relocation to Blackpool would have taken place in April, 1965. I was nine and a half. My father got his wish, a pub on Blackpool promenade. Uprooted again, but I soon settled in to our home and my new school. All my pub homes were interesting, even quirky, looking back, but this one was the best. It might be to do with my father’s fulfilled ambition, but there was a calmness and happiness through the family that I was aware of. I hadn’t lived anywhere that offered such fascination through the front windows of our accommodation. South Pier, the beach, the sea in all its moody glory, the promenade that filled with people as spring turned to summer and summer ended with the Illuminations. Bay windows meant our view had a long stretch in both directions. Donkeys on the beach – I would hear their bells as they arrived and departed. Of course, those thundering trams trundling the length of the prom from Starr Gate to Fleetwood and they were loud. At least, loud is how I remember them and they seemed to be more noisy in the winter months when they had the promenade to themselves. During the Illuminations, there was, for me, the added joy of watching the illuminated trams go by, The Rocket, The Ship, The Boat and The Western Train which we always called the Puffer Train Tram, the one my sister looked out for.
Eventually I got to have a ride on one of the clanging monstrosities. I think our housekeeper, Auntie Kathy, took us – that’s my sister and me – the first time. Other times we went with our mom and even Nanna was persuaded to come along on one of her visits.
As an adult, I have appreciated our Blackpool and Fylde coast line more than I ever did in childhood. When the new, smooth and quieter trams came on track I enjoyed taking the trip from Starr Gate to Fleetwood and back, just to look at the sea. The trams have been part of Blackpool since 1885, which makes them older than the Tower. They are an essential part of public transport for Blackpool and Fleetwood as well as a popular tourist attraction.
Moving pubs meant moving town, leaving behind the familiar comforts and friends to start again somewhere. It wasn’t always welcome but, looking back, I think I coped with the disruption. I have fond memories of people and places that were part of my childhood.
Back to the here and now, weather permitting, we’ll go out for lunch tomorrow to one of our favorite venues. If the weather is against us, we’ll stay cosy and make use of our food supply.
My Haiku poem,
Ride along the front
A new, smooth electric tram,
Starr Gate to Fleetwood.
How quiet they are!
Almost silent on the tracks
Where others thunder’d,
Rattled and trundled,
Those balloons of cream and green
Belonged to Blackpool.
Me, a nine year old,
Found so much fascination
Through our front windows.
And it got better,
Much to my delight, some trams,
Illuminated!
The ship, the rocket,
And the very best of all –
The Western train tram.
The new trams are good,
Accessible and comfy,
Have a seaside treat.
Choose a sunny day.
It’s an amazing journey
The best North West coast.
PMW 2024
Thanks for reading, Pam x
Email ThisBlogThis!Share to XShare to Facebook
