Holiday Times Past

[Alan Marsden]

Hi William R , I remember the YHA hostel at Delamere Forrest, it was just as you descibed it. We (a group of 3 or 4 cyclists) from Preston went thru Knutsford to Macclesfield an on to the Chapel en Le Frith road to a YHA hostel named Windgather Rocks out in the wilds on top of a hill in the Peak district. Then another days pedalling down to the Lichfield YHA and a walk around city taking in the Cathedral. North next, a full day of pedalling in the rain, yellow oilskin and sae western keeping the body and head dry but the legs and feet were soaking as the passing motorvehicles threw up the spray, pushing down the pedals re directed the cold water from beneath ones foot between the toes and out of the laceholes ! Into the drying room at Delaware, a hot supper,bunk bed for the night,flatten the tin cans ,everyone had chores at the YHA, and another day in the pouring rain back to Preston. Shortly after, stood at the front of the class explaining the merits of a cycling and hostelling holiday, one realised most 11 year olds had not ventured far at all , perhaps they were more sensible !
Alan M

[William R]

Hi Allan, Memories..... Used to go all over the place with a buddy called Fred Pritchard, who used to liove in Ardee Road, just over the River Ribble at Penwortham. The usual drill was to leave right after work at Leylands and go to Delamere Forest Hostel via Wigan and Warrington. I remember the lady hostellers could sleep in the house whilst we "tough males" had to sleep in the converted hen cabin outside. As you say, the chores had to be done before yopu got your card back, to leave the place clean for the next travellers. Our longest trip was about 1943 when we went down to the South Coast stopping at various hostels on the way, memory fails here but I recall Ludlow as one, and Batheaston. This one spoiled the picture, the hostellers were segregated from those who came by car for a cheap weekend, I remember the notice on the wall "Here lies the body of Willy Doom, he wore hobnailed boots in the Common Room". This particular Common Room was being used by the weekend Hostellers (in cars) for their weekly dance. No real hostellers were allowed in, it lowered the tone. Never went back. Its worth a mention in these days of Motorways and travel, that there were no signposts to tell the way, you navigated by the sun and by asking ther locals, (in the Pub). We actually did 1100 miles that week and ended up in a restricted area near Saffron Walden, and were "escorted" from the area by American Military Police, fully armed, to a safe area. We did get some chocolates and biscuits from them, which softened the blow. It was back to work on the Monmday morning, still in cycling gear, to do 12 hour shifts. Lost contact with Fred many years ago, last heard of at Abadan and Kuwait oilfields. Interesting ti hear that someone else lived on the road as we did, there was little else for us. Cheers, William R.

[William R]

Sorry for the terrible typing, I never was good at it, must try harder. W.R.

[Bill Rigby]

I just read this thread, William R, and your initial post last October struck a resonant chord. I remember my folks taking us to Liverpool for the boat to Llandudno several times. Perhaps it was a well known 'outing' from Leyland? I cannot recall the route to get there as you can. I only thought about those days on the briny - to me as a kid it was like an ocean liner! - the other day, in writing a memoir. When I read your input my first thought was, well! there's a coincidence.

[William R]

Bill, Bit of nostalgia, Lady G and me were in York at the National Railway Museum, and looking round the exhibits in the Warehouse Section saw a nameplate for the Liverpool Overhead Railway - now THERE is a subject from before the war, of going from Leyland to travel on the Overhead towards Seaforth Sands and seeing all the boats tied up in the Docks going to far-off places. Sadly its no more, but what memories it evokes! If you`ve never had the chance to visit the Museum, try it, and whats more, its free entry. William R.

[Bill Rigby]

As a matter of fact, William R, I was in Liverpool year before last and visited the old, done up docks and warehouses. Reminded me of Baltimore, MD, where they have also utilized the old buildings for new purposes in a similar way.
I used to live in Ainsdale and when I did my militray service passed through Liverpool every weekend on my way from Padgate to go home. I walked from the old Cheshire Lines station, demolished years ago, to Exchange to get the electric train.
I often spent a Saturday getting off the Southport to Liverpool trains at, I think, Litherland, to take the overhead. It was always exciting to see what ships were in, almost brushing by them on the train.
For years, whenever I was in the north, I would trot off to Liverpool to have a look around and recapture the past a little, but it got very dilapidated looking and more graffiti on public buildings than on a NY subway train. It also seemed always to rain and on one visit I found it so depressing, I swore never to return. However, I did two years ago for the first time in years.
I once canvassed in a general election on Scotland Road for a local candidate who I can assure you was decidedly not a Tory! It was quite an experince allowing me to see the inside of houses that equalled anything in a third world country; front rooms with old car seats and orange boxes for furniture in dingy streets where ragged kids played. Usually, and it struck me forcibly, the most miserable places were inhabited by householders who aggressively told me where to go insofar as most were staunch conservatives!

[Alan Marsden]

William R.- interesting that you were at Leyland Motors during your cycling days. As a youngster,I was introduced to cycling by a gentleman named Henry Cookson , he lived on 'our block',in Shelley Rd. Preston, and worked at Leyland Motors. Henry hated the work he did and lived for the weekends and the outdoors. He was an interesting man, as a boy his strict father had determined that he should become a Roman Catholic priest. This was not for Henry and he ran away to Liverpool, joined a ship and sailed the seven seas. I well recall his description of 'rounding the Horn', he would lash himself to the mast so as not be swept overboard, this was of course in the days of sail! Henry's home was filled with pictures of sailing ships and memorabelia from all over the world. Henry and his wife would 'be off' each weekend, on their tandem. On becoming a widower and having no family, Henry eventually began taking 2 or 3 youngsters cycling each weekend. Each Sunday we would be off somewhere,Fylde, Arnside,Ingleton, Skipton,Yorkshire dales,Haworth,etc. Holiday times would take us farther afield, Derbyshire,Lichfield, Cheshire,to YHA and CTC touring,Settle and over the hills to Kettlewell YHA, was a favourite. On one occasion we took tents and after hostelling at Kettlewell we continued to Grassington, Skipton and Bolton Abbey in the pouring rain. About one mile along the A59 Blubberhouse road from Bolton Bridge, on the right was a narrow stoned walled road leading to Beamsley. Here,to the left, on a hillside near the stream we set up camp, cycling further ,Ilkley,Otley,Harrogate ,Knaresborough. One evening we return to the tents and the cows had demolished everything. Henry saved the day, he arranged with the farmer (his drinking partner at the Devonshire Arms),that we should live in the barn and sleep in the hayloft above the barn which was integral with the farmhouse. A diversion of the stream ran behind the building then beneath it and out the front of the barn and in doing so drove a mammoth waterwheel which was inside the barn and in times past had driven the machinery of the mill. The waterwheel was accessed from the cobbled yard by a small door and was not visible from the exterior of the building. Just prior to becoming our refuge, the barn/workshop had been used by an undertaker, this was apparent observing the multitude of unfinished coffins lying about . In the hayloft above the workshop and waterwheel, one rested in an improvised grey flannel sleeping bag secured with safety pins, upon the straw. The hayloft provided a comfortable night sleep except for being awakened when the rats crawled over ones body ! This was intolerable,so,from a Skipton hardware shop we aquired a large rat trap, which had a trap door. Aniseed laden bread was the lure. From the same hardware shop we also bought a new frying pan, so it was no surprise when people asked if we intended cooking our catch !
In the darkness of the night, sat upon the coffins,we could hear and feel the occasional rat creep over ones feet and see their reflected eyes as they approached the lure from the yard, often we would strike with our clubs and usually miss ,sending them scurring, until the quiet returned. Morning after morning brought cagefulls of heaving rats, the cage was then lowered by rope into the stream untill they drowned !
The Beamsley farmhouse became our regular haunt after school on a Friday, we would cycle there arriving at dusk. The rat population seemed henceforth depleted! Mid afternoon Sunday we would depart and after a pint of tea in Gisburn pedal through waddington and Longridge and home to a hot pot supper for all ,complete with crust and pickles! Happy days !!
Alan M.

[William R]

Hi Allan, Shelley Road!!!!! I used to be very friendly with Arnold Cookson, who was working at Leylands when I was, his brother Dick (was it?) also worked with me in the North Works Tool Room. Now if memory serves me right, didn`t they have a sister? If you lived in Shelley Road, you`d know her. Didn`t their father Joe, drive for Leylands.? Shelley Road Mill rings a bell with me too.!! William R.

[LDunlop76]

Alan, my skin is now crawling, all that talk of rats! LOL!

[Karen]

Hi Alan,

That's Shelley Road Preston?
My cousins Freda, Ken, and Eric Welsby were raised in Shelley Road.

Ciao Karen.