VIEWPOINT
Jenni Murray
With summer here, our columnist reminisces about being by the sea: donkey rides, ice-cream… and one unforgettable day
At last, here comes the summer and that irresistible longing to be by the seaside. Raised in a mining town, Barnsley, in the middle of Yorkshire, the sea seemed so far away. But, as the summer began, so came the excitement of what was always the most thrilling time of the year.
My earliest memories are of Blackpool. Mum had agonised over packing enough stuff for a week away. She’d cleaned the house from top to bottom, never risking any burglar breaking in and finding she was a neglectful housewife. Grandma and Grandpa were equally well prepared. They met us at the bus station to take the coach to my dream destination, me jumping up and down in my seat as the tip of the tower came into view. Then, the sea. I adored the way the waves came in and out. I loved the smell of it and couldn’t wait to get to the boarding house – not on the sea front – unpack my cossie and rush to the promenade with a bucket, spade and, quite often, an umbrella.