When you are old enough to remember half day closing ….. and more

I won’t be the only one who remembers when shops closed early one day in the week, pubs stopped serving in the middle of the afternoon and that week in summer when everything in Ashton ground to a halt during Wakes Week.

Mr. England outside his shop by Chorlton Green, circa 1960s

Not that this is some nostalgic meander through the past.

Even then it seemed to me that shop workers and publicans deserved their time off, more so when the shop was one of those corner ones which were pretty much “open all hours”.

Added to which Wakes week seemed a fine idea until you lived in the town and the place became very quiet.

And growing up in the 1950s there were those regulations which prevented you buying some products which in turn led me once to swear eternal secrecy by the shop keeper when I was sent for a packet of butter which she doubled wrapped in newspaper. That said it could have been eggs or potatoes, which the passage of nearly 70 years has made obscure.

It reinforces that other memory of Sundays which was boredom.  Too young to go to the cinema, and with limited hours of broadcasting on the one channel on the telly, the day stretched out as a day to endure.

Most of my friends didn’t play out on a Sunday which left the time divided between rereading last weeks comics and watching the odd passerby.

Paul England outside the shops by the Green, circa 1960s

And then things changed with the relaxation of the laws on retail trading and pub hours, which I can pinpoint.

But just when half day closing became a thing of the past I have yet to track down, along with the slow decline of the traditional retail pattern which saw several grocery shops, green grocers, and butchers existing close to each other in every small community.

Of course, before the widespread ownership of fridges and freezers shopping daily was more to do with keeping food fresh than a lifestyle choice.

But now with online shopping, and the bike delivery just a click away half day closing is just a redundant memory.

Leaving me just to acknowdge that in Varese in northern Italy where some of the faily live, the shops still do close for a few hours in the middle of the day.

And that's it.

Location; the past

Pictures; shopping in Chorlton in the 1960s, from the collection of Paul England