Now, I have no photographs of the garage off Brabourn Grove, which was home to Glenton Tours, but I do have plenty of memories.
They would start with Dad calling in at home, dropping of his suitcase, and collecting me, before driving from Lausanne Road to the garage and dropping off the coach after a trip across the Continent.
He worked for Glenton Tours, and had done so since the late 1920s or early 1930s, and by the time I was growing up had moved from coach tours of Britain to seven, and fifteen days trips across mainland Europe, taking in the sights and offering luxury holidays to those who could pay.
The turn around was quick, having arrived home at seven, he would be off again in the morning, and the trip to the garage was an essential, not just because it meant that the coach would be deep cleaned and washed for the next tour, but involved Dad talking over any faults the coach had developed.
For me it was a treat, which included the drive up to Brabourn Grove, a bottle of lemonade and packet of Crisps from the Swiss Tavern on the way home, and of course an opportunity to talk to Dad, who from Easter through to late September spent just one night at home before setting off again.
To be honest the time waiting for dad, while he discussed the coach with Frank the foreman or Taffy the deputy could be boring and I often ended up playing on a pile stones or talking to “Wishy Washy” who washed the coaches, lived with his mother and had an extensive model railway set.
He also used a short cut home from work which involved him crossing the line railway track which both fascinated and frightened me.
I stopped going up with Dad round about the time I started at Samuel Pepys in 1961, and Glenton Tours vacated the site sometime in the 1970s for a place down by the river.
And as you, do, the memories faded until recently when I went looking for the garage, which is now a residential development, but with a nod to the past the road has been called Glenton Mews which I like.
The pictures of the mews are courtesy of Ian Boxall who posted them yesterday on social media and gave me permission to use them.
And they have taken me back over sixty years to to those carefree days when I sat beside dad in the empty coach up to the garage, and brought back memories of Frank, Taffy and Wishy Washy, along with that bottle of lemonade and crisps, which for those who can remember came in just the one flavour, which in turn came in the form of a twist of blue paper with a pinch of salt.
Glenton Tours had begun in the 1920s when the family who ran an estate agents acquired two coaches as payment for a transaction.
Dad joined soon after and stayed with them almost to the end of the business.
Location; Nunhead
Pictures; Dad, a coach, a tour guide, 1951-65 from the collection of Andrew Simpson and Glenton Mews, 2019, courtesy of Ian Boxall
He worked for Glenton Tours, and had done so since the late 1920s or early 1930s, and by the time I was growing up had moved from coach tours of Britain to seven, and fifteen days trips across mainland Europe, taking in the sights and offering luxury holidays to those who could pay.
The turn around was quick, having arrived home at seven, he would be off again in the morning, and the trip to the garage was an essential, not just because it meant that the coach would be deep cleaned and washed for the next tour, but involved Dad talking over any faults the coach had developed.
For me it was a treat, which included the drive up to Brabourn Grove, a bottle of lemonade and packet of Crisps from the Swiss Tavern on the way home, and of course an opportunity to talk to Dad, who from Easter through to late September spent just one night at home before setting off again.
He also used a short cut home from work which involved him crossing the line railway track which both fascinated and frightened me.
I stopped going up with Dad round about the time I started at Samuel Pepys in 1961, and Glenton Tours vacated the site sometime in the 1970s for a place down by the river.
And as you, do, the memories faded until recently when I went looking for the garage, which is now a residential development, but with a nod to the past the road has been called Glenton Mews which I like.
And they have taken me back over sixty years to to those carefree days when I sat beside dad in the empty coach up to the garage, and brought back memories of Frank, Taffy and Wishy Washy, along with that bottle of lemonade and crisps, which for those who can remember came in just the one flavour, which in turn came in the form of a twist of blue paper with a pinch of salt.
Glenton Tours had begun in the 1920s when the family who ran an estate agents acquired two coaches as payment for a transaction.
Location; Nunhead
Pictures; Dad, a coach, a tour guide, 1951-65 from the collection of Andrew Simpson and Glenton Mews, 2019, courtesy of Ian Boxall
Went to Catalonia for a holiday by coach some 20 years ago, those drivers were brilliant & definitely knew the best places to stop along the way - your piece bought back some fond memories.
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