(Illustrations; family photos, and a car just like Soppy)

With both of our parents now working, we were able to buy our first family car!

We were absolutely delighted, and Joan and I leapt up and down with excitement, when dad brought it home. This neat little car was jet black with a sun visor, a Ford Prefect, and because her registration plate was SOP 236, we gave her the name Soppy. Our car was definitely a ‘she’, and she positively gleamed in the sun when she’d been waxed and polished.

Dad had not only built a large solid wooden garage for her, but he had also made a ‘bespoke’ ‘shelf-seat’ for me to sit on, between the two front seats, over the handbrake!

So we, along with nana and granda, squeezed into our car each Sunday afternoon, when we went for a ‘run’ in the countryside. But how on earth did six of us get in such a small car?

Cars weren’t fitted with seat belts in those days, but of course cars travelled much more slowly then, so there really was less chance of an accident.

If ever cars had some kind of mechanical failure, or their drivers were in some kind of predicament, they could ring for help from an AA phone box, dotted at intervals along the side of the road, providing that the driver was a 'fully fledged member' of the ‘Automobile Association Club’. As proof of membership a special AA badge was attached to the front grille of the car. 

All this was to ensure that an AA man, in helmet and brown overalls, would come hurrying to the rescue, on his motor bike and side car, 

We would look out for him as we journeyed along the road each Sunday, and we would get excited if we saw him approach.

“Here’s the AA man coming!” we would yell! “Will  he give us a wave?” my dad would ask. And true to form, he would salute us proudly, and continue on his way. And my dad would respond by saluting back proudly.

I imagine that the reason this practice was phased out in November 1961, was to do with the sheer volume of traffic on the roads. Perhaps a salute became too dangerous for all concerned. Either that or there were too many complaints about being ignored?

The RAC club, was another vehicle helpline, but they were blue, and we were yellow, but we had more phone boxes!

My family also met up with relatives as they also had cars, and we enjoyed spending 'trips out' together, at places such as Tynemouth Long Sands, Planky Mill, Rothbury and Alnmouth.

Whenever my family went out in Soppy, we all sang whatever hymns or songs came to mind, harmonising with one another as we travelled. Songs such as ‘All in the April Evening’ ‘I come to the garden alone' and 'The Lord’s my Shepherd’ were firm favourites. Also the radio programme ‘Sing something Simple’ would guide us on home our return journey on the evening.

Granda, to my left, had a deep bass voice, and dad was the tenor. Joan, my sister, nana and I, were sopranos; but I always gave careful ear to mam’s alto harmonies, which I thought were so beautiful. And so I learned to harmonise myself over the years.

We were so happy driving through all those leafy green archways of trees and winding country lanes, and we would all be very grateful to Soppy for bringing us safely home.

If we all thought that she’d been a good girl on the road, someone who would shout out, “Soppy needs a kiss!” And we would all, with fingers first put to lips, we would plant our kisses upon her.

When we bought our new caravan, a Sprite Musketeer T, our lifelong passion for the great outdoors really began. Of course we needed a more powerful car to tow it. Poor Soppy had to be sold, and a Ford Consul was purchased instead.

Our very first holiday trip in the caravan, was to Parkfoot Farm, on Lake Ullswater, in the Lake District

We arrived there late in the evening, as dad had to finish work before we could get away, so by the time we pulled into the field, (narrowly missing a ditch) it was dark. My dad unhitched the caravan, and wound down its legs for stability, and parked the car next to it.

We clambered in to the van, so tired after the journey, and fell fast asleep.

Next morning Joan and I were woken up, by our parents shouting out, “Joan, Sheila, come and see this!”

We got up and hurried to the back of the caravan, where there was a large window. Our parents’ bed was below it, and we leapt onto it, ( the bed could be folded up into the wall, during the day.)

We were all spellbound by what we saw!

There before us was a picture-perfect scene, which would become etched forever in our minds.

A small boat with red sails, was gliding peacefully over the lake, which glittered and sparkled in the morning sun! The lake was vast, breath-taking in fact, and on the far side of it, there was a low hill covered entirely with Christmas trees. It was so very different from Willington Quay and Howdon, and so very beautiful.

Here was a whole new world, with no cobbled streets, no docks, no industrial buildings, no bill boards or smoky chimneys!

Yes, we had Tynemouth, Cullercoats and Whitley Bay with its beaches, piers and esplanades, but the Lake District was a whole new level of beauty. How we loved its high fells and lakes and its quaint villages.

I remember the time a friend of mine from school joined us for the weekend. We hired two horses, and we both went riding up on the Lakeland fells with other riders, enjoying the fells, but then we began trailing behind. Our horses were strong but rather slow; then half-way up the track, my huge horse suddenly decided to turn and head back to the stables. I found it quite impossible to turn it round again and go back uphill to complete the hack we’d paid for. Its mind was made up.

My friend’s horse decided this was a great idea to go for early bran lunch too, and her horse followed mine downhill.

But worse was yet to come, as once we entered the farmyard, mine headed for its own stable, which had a low-lying door, and its gate was open wide! I didn’t even have time to dismount. In it went, and I had to quickly lie over backwards, flat on its back in order to get in and under the lintel. Once inside I was able to raise myself back up again, and I couldn’t get off that horse quickly enough.

That ungainly entry could’ve been really, really nasty! I can joke about it now, but I couldn't bring myself to then!

Over the years my family had many superb holidays all over the UK, in our caravan, joined by other aunts and uncles, on my dad’s side, who had bought caravans too i.e. Aunty Gladys & Uncle Bob and their three boys Cliff, Peter and Robert; Aunty Ina & Uncle Joe and their two children Doreen and David, and then Aunty Ruby & Uncle Arthur, with their two, Dorothy and Robert, who had a very large family tent.

So, we would all go on holiday together, driving in convoy!

Isn’t it splendid, that we all loved being in each other’s company, much like our own families today. However it must have been a nightmare for the cars following us, to see so many caravans travelling together, in front of them, almost bumper to bumper!

A small bubble car managed to overtake some of our cars one day on a family outing. We weren’t towing caravans at the time, but a small bet went out in our car at least; that this tiny excuse for a car wouldn’t be able to out manoeuvre Uncle Joe, who was in the lead. It did attempt to, but failed miserably!

Uncle Joe accelerated faster and faster, as we had predicted, until the bubble car gave up!

There used to be a hilarious song at the time, called, ‘The Bubble Car, Beep Beep’, which reminds me so much of that day!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oMM7gtuBbWU

One year Aunty Ruby’s family’s tent was destroyed in an 80 mph gale, in Ayr, and one or two vans on the site had even been blown down the hill!

Aunty Ruby, came into our caravan, with her daughter Dorothy for the night, and to shelter from the storm; but she brought with her, her clock declaring. “I can’t sleep without this clock!”

Well! It was so loud, we all couldn’t sleep with it. She was the only one that night who had no trouble getting off to sleep.

Our fleet of caravans would drive onto a site though, and group together as close together as we could . We, the children, would immediately ‘commandeer’ the central field for our games. Children from other families on site, soon joined in with us.

Over the years we all got to swim in the sea, and in freezing outdoor swimming pools. We explored woods, rode horses, played competitive games on beaches, played rounders, and leapt from high sand dunes.

Aunty Ruby, who owned a little Brownie camera, captured our most treasured moments. She held it low, shielded it from the sun, and looked down into it to take the picture, then she would tell us all to smile and say, “Cheese!”

I remember very clearly, (how could I forget) my sister and my cousins’ hysterical laughter, the day I plunged into a smelly dyke, at the Norfolk Broads, during a really exciting game of ‘Kick the Can. (a game of Hide and Seek)

I clambered out of the water on the far side of the ditch, all covered in chickweed and slime. I chose not to get back in to exit the same way I went in, instead I had to walk right around the outside of the ditch, which surrounded the field, to get back on to our caravan site. My mother cleaned me up with warm water in the dish, and the smell was awful. What a dire experience that was, long before shower blocks had been invented!

Even now my cousins still call to mind those fabulous family moments spent together as one big happy family, growing up together in the great outdoors. 

Whenever we meet up, even now, the phrase, “Do you remember when we . . .?” is often heard; and the song, 'Three wheels on my wagon' takes us straight back to those carefree days, heading for hidden cave just around the bend, with Cherokees chasing us, and arrows flying, right on by!