Looking Back - Part Four

I'm not really "Looking Back" in any particular order, but really just as the memories strike me.

In 1959, when I was 15, we lived in Goole, Yorkshire. It was not my most favourite place to live. We had left behind the beautiful north-east coast of England and moved to this dismal industrial, docking town situated on the River Ouse.My father had been hired by Ind Coope Breweries to take over the management of the Station Hotel -- which was, yes, right across from the railway station, right in the centre of town.

I had moved here virtually kicking and screaming -- I hated the place from the beginning. In sharp contrast to the blue skies and seas, seagulls, lighthouse, chalk-white cliffs and wild flowers of Bridlington and Flamborough, Goole was GRAY. Everywhere was gray; gray, overcast skies, gray buildings, the river was gray and dirty. Even the inside of the hotel seemed gray to me. I am SURE the colours in this postcard have been painted on!

My tiny bedroom had a window with bars on it, for some strange reason, which only served to emphasise the 'prison' to which I felt I had moved.

A large percentage of Goole's male inhabitants worked on the docks, and at the crack of dawn they would head down there -- all of them on bicycles -- returning when the whistle blew at the end of the day. Not too many families owned a car. My father owned a black Humber Hawk, like this one:

Only the rich drove these. You may think it strange, but every time we went out around town in that car, I would sink as low as possible in the seat, so as not to be seen by my school chums. None of my friend's families had cars, only bikes, and I was embarrassed. It was bad enough to be living in a hotel where I had all my meals in the dining room served by waiters and waitresses; where my bed was made for me, and my room was cleaned for me every day; where I would put my dirty school shoes outside my bedroom door at night, and in the morning there they were -- all clean and shiny; it was bad enough that my life was so tremendously different from my peers, but driving around in that beautiful black car was just too much. Hmmm...how times change -- sure wouldn't mind being waited on hand and foot these days :)

I attended Goole Grammar School, which was co-ed -- a huge adjustment for me after attending an all-girls high school. We wore uniforms -- yes, also the obligatory hats with elastic under the chin (can you imagine!), which came off the minute we were out of sight of the school.

Can you find me? I'll give you a hint. I'm on the front row. In the middle is my home room teacher, Miss Proudlove, who also taught German.



At this school we were given a choice of either Latin or German language classes. Believing Latin was an outdated, useless language I decided on German. What a mistake THAT was! Not only was it the hardest thing I have EVER had to learn, if I had taken Latin it would have stood me in good stead, some decades later, when I went to Romania and had to learn Romania's latin-based language. But how are we to know these things??

Anyway, because I was taking German lessons, I became eligible for the school's exchange program, where I was to be linked with a German student of similar age, background and interests. I would visit her for three weeks in Germany, and in return, later in the year, she would visit me in England.

Can't wait to tell you all about that -- my first time ever away from home. Oh, what a time I had!