Not so very long ago housemaids danced with glee
As they climbed aboard a charabanc for a day trip to the sea,
And factory workers took the train to Scarborough or Rhyll
Where their children rode the donkeys in the English summer chill.
There was often Punch and Judy, and sticky peppermint rock,
And Mum would stun the locals in her dainty cotton frock.
When Londoners ate jellied eels on Southend’s ‘longest pier’,
Supping cockles, whelks and mussels with a frothy pint of beer.*
There were hats demanding ‘KISS ME QUICK’ and Gypsy Rosa Lee,
And a picnic of egg sandwiches with thermos flasks of tea.
There was Dad, complete with collar and tie, paddling in the bay,
His trousers rolled up to the knees to keep them from the spray,
There were neon socks and pacamacs, clammy in the breeze.
And cheery Billy Butlin with his quest for knobbly knees.

But now we’ve Costa Brava or a Balearic Isle,
We can take a trip ‘Down Under’, or a cruise along the Nile.
Take a bite of the ‘Big Apple’ go to Paris for the day.
Climb the track to Machu Picchu, trek the road to Mandalay,
Ride the steppes in vast Mongolia, visit Beijing’s urban sprawl,
Kayak coasts and circumnavigate the rapids in Nepal.
So give three cheers for Thomas Cook with his visionary tours
Who thought we’d like to take a look beyond our verdant shores
And then return to Blighty with its pleasant cooling rain
And its crowded sodden hillsides, till we take a trip again.

*9d a pint in 1958


© Carol Prior (2014)