Bermondsey summers

What is it about memory, that makes us remember summers as being better in our youth? Ask most people about the weather, and they will almost always agree that the summer was better when they were young.

Six weeks of unbroken sun, school holidays spent outside, with perhaps the occasional thundery shower, that helped to clear the air. Given that this might span a time period from 1958, to 1998, it cannot really have any basis in fact. Although I do not have the real statistics to hand, (and cannot be bothered to look them up) I am sure that we didn’t always have fabulous summers, with weeks of Mediterranean heat, and unbroken blue skies. So why is it that this is how I remember them?

Before we moved to Kent, when I was fifteen years old, I spent my summers on the streets of Bermondsey, a South London district, close to the River Thames. There may have been a two-week family holiday, usually to Cornwall, and there were also weekends in Essex, staying at my Nan’s caravan, but mostly, it was ‘playing out’ with mates.

This was sometimes on the still-present bomb sites, derelict areas caused by wartime raids, and often near my Nan’s house, where we played various games on the pavements, and in the roads. We might also venture into Southwark Park, where there was a good play area, with a climbing net over a sandpit, and a large roundabout. In the other direction, the smaller St James’s park boasted an unusual slide, with a closed-in top, resembling a wooden fort.

I might also wander down to the river, where the busy docks were then still working flat out, and look at the huge cargo ships, spinning cranes, and passing river traffic. This might involve slipping past the Dock Police, who were supposed to stop us going in, or just going to Cherry Garden pier, with direct access to the riverside, where we could play at low tide. Once out, we rarely returned home until the agreed deadline; if we needed to pee, we did it up a tree, and we had our pocket money, for any drinks or snacks that we wanted.

The most enduring memory, whether false or not, is of good weather that enabled us to play, however and whenever we wanted. We played cricket, with pieces of wood, and any ball we could find. Football of course, with old boxes for goalposts, and if there were not enough of us to make up teams, then it was up against a wall, or one in goal, with the ‘three goals and in’ rule applying. We would always assume the identity of the star players of the day, and would argue, until allowed to keep our choice. The playmates were generally neighbours, and any other kids who just happened to be hanging about, as we rarely ventured outside our world, the small borough that was Bermondsey.

Being boys (there were rarely girls, except sisters who had to be looked after) we liked to play at war. Although the Second World War was fresh to us, and we still had the evidence in the bomb-sites, we did not restrict ourselves. We also liked to pretend to be knights in armour, using all sorts of adapted implements and household items to simulate medieval attire. We would go to the local ‘shop that sold everything’, and buy garden canes, one long, and many short. They were affordable with our small amounts of pocket money, and with some old string obtained from anywhere, they magically transformed into bows and arrows. With these, we could be the English archers at Agincourt (we had all seen Henry V), or just as easily become fierce Apache warriors, opposing the U.S. Cavalry.

Toy guns, discussed at length in another post, would be prized in these conflicts, and those not lucky enough to have one made do with suitably shaped pieces of wood or metal. At times, there could be as many as thirty of us on each side; one group defending an area, the other attacking with screams and whoops. These battles were not without their casualties. Stones and bricks were often thrown, and the large numbers of flying ‘arrows’ also caused eye injuries. Even if you survived the skirmish, you could be sure of scraped knees, scuffed shoes, and torn clothing. Nobody got an ambulance though, or a trip to the hospital. You went home, to get Germolene on your scrapes, and a telling off for spoiling your clothes. Before getting out again, as soon as possible, to rejoin the fray.

I can still feel the heat, even now. The pavements felt uncomfortably hot when you sat down. Dogs dozed outside houses, grumpy if approached. Ants were everywhere, and sometimes, huge numbers of winged ants would emerge, their desire to fly off sparked by the increasing temperature. You were always thirsty. The parks had water fountains, operated by pushing a plunger, and then you had to try to drink from it, craning your head awkwardly. Older fountains had large metal cups, attached by chains. They were probably unhygienic, but the water always tasted fresh from them.

If all else failed, you would knock on any door, and ask for a drink of water, from a complete stranger. It was never denied, as it was a very different world then. If you had money, you could buy a drink, or better still, an Ice Pole or a Jubbly. Ice Poles were long tubes of frozen, flavoured water, encased in a polythene shell. You bit off the top, and pushed the pole up as you ate it. Jubblies were even better, but cost 3d. They resembled a pyramid, and were really frozen solid. They contained a tasty orange ice, and were in a waxy cardboard container. Peeling off one corner, the Jubbly would appear, and could be slid in and out, as required. Even in the full heat of summer, they would last a long time, and were a great refreshment.

When I moved to the new maisonette in Bermondsey, aged eight, we had communal gardens. These became my new playground. With the other kids from the flats, of all ages, we would play in the wartime air-raid shelters, on the older estate opposite. As we had a ground and first floor, we would leap from the stairwell halfway up, pretending to be parachutists at Arnhem. With earth and grass to include in our games, we would dig out tiny trenches, and place our toy soldiers in them. We even poured water into them, to simulate the mud we had seen in the films. A good game like this could involve up to six kids, with a few hundred toy soldiers, in an impressive trench network that we kept going for days, if not weeks, on end.

When I got a bike, a whole new world of summer play opened up for me. We would cruise around in large numbers, pretending to be fighter planes, attacking each other with loud machine-gun noises, covering a good few miles each day. Other times, we would ‘obtain’ broom handles, and stage elaborate jousting contests, slavishly following all the rules, just as we had seen in the films. Pedalling rapidly towards each other, we fearlessly clashed our broom handle ‘lances’; if someone fell off their bike, the other boy would get off also, and continue the contest with wooden swords. And it was still hot, always hot.

This was pretty much how it carried on, until I became too old for play, and started to read, or listen to music in my bedroom instead. By the time we moved to Kent, I had stopped noticing the heat of the summers, but I vividly remember the open doors, to let in air, and the sound of the younger kids, out playing until past 9pm, enjoying the warmth.

Nothing will persuade me that those summers are a myth, or just a rose-tinted memory.

48 thoughts on “Bermondsey summers

  1. Thank you so much for sending me this link! I found it very enjoyable.
    Iโ€™m so grateful that I, similarly to you, got to enjoy play out in the wild before fear and technology took over.
    The differences and similarities in our generations is so interesting. Iโ€™m also interested in the role gender stereotypes dictate play… Iโ€™m very excited to start posting and explore these topics!
    Take care,

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I never played outside as a child. I have always hated the heat. I mostly stayed inside reading and avoiding other children. I do remember spending a lot of the summer poking things in rock pools near my Ouma’s house.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. This is more than wonderful. It paints a picture of real play, the play that children need to do in order to learn and grow. You were a lucky boy. Think of the children today that are bursting with ideas and energy and canโ€™t even go outside. Thank you so much for sharing your summers, Pete. Best to you.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks very much, Jennie. I feel sorry for today’s children. In the main dependent on electronics, harassed by social media, craving electronic ‘acceptance’, and over-protected by parents.
      They miss out on the essence of childhood and development, in so many respects.
      At least you are there to redress the balance for some of them. ๐Ÿ™‚
      Best wishes, Pete.

      Liked by 1 person

  4. So many great memories, Pete. In regards to your comment about the summers in our youth, I generally find that people are more nostalgic about lots of things from their childhood. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard people praise the music that they grew up with while trashing the music of today. I’m sure the same will be true for this generation.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I am one of those who likes to wallow in nostalgia. But I also appreciate a lot of modern music, and accept that things like TV drama have improved beyond compare to those days.
      However, I am convinced that a simpler life, fuelled by imagination and reading, rather than electronics and social media acceptance, was a far better way for young people to develop.
      Best wishes, Pete.

      Liked by 1 person

  5. It’s so true – our childhood memories take us back to the best of times, sunny days, fun with friends and carefree memories. Was is just better weather back then or do we just remember those days more? Sounds like you had lots of fun!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks, Starr. I am still firmly convinced the weather was better. At least the seasons were more clearly defined. Cold in winter, warm in summer. Now it’s June 2019. It has been raining every day for three weeks here, and three days ago we had the heating on. It might as well be autumn. ๐Ÿ™‚ ๐Ÿ™‚
      Best wishes, Pete.


  6. Ah yes, summers were the best! All play and no school! ๐Ÿ™‚ Our neighborhood games ran late into the evening and mostly consisted of hide and seek and frozen tag. There was also the woods to play in, treehouses to build, and the creek to jump over and splash around in. Great fun!!

    Liked by 2 people

  7. I have no vivid memories of summers at that age. Starting at around age 10 or 11, we lived near fields and woods, and they became my summer playground. I never failed to come into contact with poison ivy, and was usually late for dinner…

    Liked by 2 people

  8. I remember ice poles and sunny summer evenings. I know it wasn’t always sunny because I have a distinct memory of a family holiday in Fleetwood when it rained most days and I had to wear an anorak over my shorts and teeshirt.

    Liked by 2 people

  9. Ah ha The ice pole. Now thereโ€™s a memory for you! Funny that itโ€™s always sunny memory ,.. unless it was a biblical thunderstorm! No meah weather in those late 50s and 60s. Mind you, asking for water could be scary. There was one house where we dared each other to ask because the old lady would cause us with her mop. Happy days…

    Liked by 2 people

  10. Reblogged this on Stevie Turner and commented:
    Ah, reading this I recall my favourite thing to do whilst walking home from school – going into our local sweet shop and buying a ‘Jubbly’. Oh, the pleasure of it – walking along and biting the sweet tasting ice! Jubblys are long gone now and so is my childhood, but reading Pete’s blog brought it all back for a few lovely moments. Thanks Pete.

    Liked by 2 people

  11. Early 40s & it sounds like my childhood being dragged up in sunny Hackney.
    Peg guns, water bombs, water pistols & making go karts from abandoned pram wheels. You stirred a few very happy memories there Pete. Thank you.
    I’m also sure summers were longer & hotter.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. It was the mid 1950’s actually Jimmy but hadn’t changed at all from 10 years earlier, except there were no German bombers in the sky! Glad it brought back some fond memories for you.
      Cheers mate, Pete.


  12. I maybe 15 odd years behind you but your description was almost that of my own childhood, except for the old money and bomb sites, although I do remember discovering an old shelter in the middle of the woods which became the focus of our attention for quite a while; I’ve no idea what it really was!
    A great read.
    I doubt the kids of today even notice the weather any more, just if it’s light or dark ๐Ÿ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

All comments welcome

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.