Now the best adventures are the ones that are unplanned.
Of course, that does have its pit falls.
When we were young, any mention of an adventure, had mother rushing off to prepare sandwiches, a selection of seasonal fruit and a canteen of orange squash.
On the other hand, the sheer logic of an adventure was that we just took off early one morning, with no plan, no food and no drinks.
But we always carried our army surplus green canvas bags which might have once carried a gas mask or some other vital piece of military equipment.
Back in the 1950s, these were all the rage, cost one shilling from the local hardware shop, and lasted for years.
Into these would go a small unsliced loaf of bread, and a bottle of Tizer, bought along the way.
During the course of the adventure the inside of the loaf would be eaten, and if we were lucky to fall across a fish and chip shop, the hollowed-out loaf would be filled with chips.
I don’t ever recall eating fruit, but depending where we were and the time of year, there would be the chance of wild blackberries or raspberries.
The one certainty was that by mid-day the Tizer had lost its fizz and had become lukewarm.
Not that deterred in any way from the thrill of being out with your mates and doing some “exploring.”
There will have been days when it rained, and we ended up by a derelict canal, with a landscape dominated by a gasometer, a warehouse and factory chimney.
But looking back with nostalgic optimism, the sun always shone, the only sounds were those of bird song accompanied by the lazy whiz of insects about their business.
And sixty years on, nothing much has changed.
Although now, the bag comes from a sporty shop and is filled with shorts, trainers and a bottle of water, and the aimless journey has been replaced by a purposeful trip to the gym at Hough End.
But at 7.45 on an already warm sunny day with the promise of more sun, the temptation to wander off across the playing fields is irresistible.
Once this was all fields, cultivated in a variety of ways, and crisscrossed by watercourses with the odd pond through in.
Today, most of it is laid out in a series of pitches, but on the edges of Mauldeth Road West and the old Parkway there is a belt of trees and bushes with more than a few secret paths which beckon you in.
Sadly, that the strip of vegetation is just that, and pretty quickly it vanishes, to be replaced by open vistas of neatly cut grass and goal posts, while the low buzz of traffic never quite goes away.
Still, a Tuesday morning out on Hough End has the power to re awake my childhood sense of adventure.
Location; Hough End
Pictures; Hough End, 2019, from the collection of Andrew Simpson, and the same spot in 1854, from the the OS map of Lancashire, 1854, courtesy of Digital Archives Association, http://digitalarchives.co.uk/
Adventures by a busy main road, 2019 |
When we were young, any mention of an adventure, had mother rushing off to prepare sandwiches, a selection of seasonal fruit and a canteen of orange squash.
On the other hand, the sheer logic of an adventure was that we just took off early one morning, with no plan, no food and no drinks.
But we always carried our army surplus green canvas bags which might have once carried a gas mask or some other vital piece of military equipment.
Back in the 1950s, these were all the rage, cost one shilling from the local hardware shop, and lasted for years.
Into these would go a small unsliced loaf of bread, and a bottle of Tizer, bought along the way.
During the course of the adventure the inside of the loaf would be eaten, and if we were lucky to fall across a fish and chip shop, the hollowed-out loaf would be filled with chips.
Getting lost |
The one certainty was that by mid-day the Tizer had lost its fizz and had become lukewarm.
Not that deterred in any way from the thrill of being out with your mates and doing some “exploring.”
There will have been days when it rained, and we ended up by a derelict canal, with a landscape dominated by a gasometer, a warehouse and factory chimney.
But looking back with nostalgic optimism, the sun always shone, the only sounds were those of bird song accompanied by the lazy whiz of insects about their business.
And sixty years on, nothing much has changed.
Although now, the bag comes from a sporty shop and is filled with shorts, trainers and a bottle of water, and the aimless journey has been replaced by a purposeful trip to the gym at Hough End.
Back in 1854 |
Once this was all fields, cultivated in a variety of ways, and crisscrossed by watercourses with the odd pond through in.
Today, most of it is laid out in a series of pitches, but on the edges of Mauldeth Road West and the old Parkway there is a belt of trees and bushes with more than a few secret paths which beckon you in.
Sadly, that the strip of vegetation is just that, and pretty quickly it vanishes, to be replaced by open vistas of neatly cut grass and goal posts, while the low buzz of traffic never quite goes away.
Still, a Tuesday morning out on Hough End has the power to re awake my childhood sense of adventure.
Location; Hough End
Pictures; Hough End, 2019, from the collection of Andrew Simpson, and the same spot in 1854, from the the OS map of Lancashire, 1854, courtesy of Digital Archives Association, http://digitalarchives.co.uk/
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