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The older we got, the later our entertainment concluded and so quite often, there was nothing for it but to thumb home. The trains finished around the eleven mark and we couldn't afford taxis. We could hardly afford the bus that took us to town. One summer, that of , stands out. I was at work that year, building Silversprings Hotel believe it or not , and receiving a good pay but most of that was handed up at home and I was usually left with a pound to see me through the week.
A bottle of beer Carling Black Label was popular would cost you about one shilling and four pence and you could get a pack of cigarettes for the same amount or thereabouts. Still, at the start of the night, you would always try and get a lift to town rather than the train or bus. Take one night that I remember. My buddy and I had tried in vain to get a lift but in the end had to give up and get the bus. This was unusual as we were almost always successful with the thumb.
Having got to town, we decided to head for Crosshaven as a new ballroom was being opened there. We got a series of lifts to the seaside cul-de-sac, the last one fairly hair-raising as the driver had had a few drinks too many.
The disadvantage of the seaside cul-de-sac became apparent when we tried to get home. Eventually, through a stroke of luck, we got a spin from a St Leger who had been playing with the band, the Victors. That got us to town. Now we needed to get home. We hit the Lower Road, probably about three in the morning, and started thumbing the few cars that passed. But we had no joy. Then we saw a bus approach.
