A childhood memoir of life before polio, and immediately after, and my magical childhood adventures in and out of a wheelchair
The Carnival
My equally beautiful sister Melly who was
to become Herne Bay Carnival’s Lady in Waiting!
Every month before the Herne Bay Carnival there was an air of excitement amongst us kids. For a start there was the Carnival- program telling all and sundry where the Carnival would start and where it would finish; how many floats there were expected to be that year and who would be contributing; advertising of local businesses etc. etc. But we weren't interested in all that stuff. What we were interested in was the program's NUMBER!
Every program had a number and if you won that number you could have, say, a table for two at a local restaurant; a year's free ticket-for-two to what was on at the King's Hall; or, OR a huge box of FIREWORKS!
THIS number…plus another number: now it was this number that we were interested in, this number that required that you look in every shop window for a gift with a number sat next to it. It could be anything: a soft toy; a tin of baked beans; a box of chocolates (now that was more like it); or a penknife (that was also more like it). The thrill was to win ANYTHING, even a tin of baked beans; at least you got to eat all of 'em.
The day got nearer and nearer. The nearer it got the more excited we became. The excitement was tangible, you could almost smell it, taste it. A sense of wonderment pervaded everything all was transformed merely by our imagination which had no boundaries. No fence or wall could contain it. Magic was in the very air that we breathed.
Carnival day arrived. We were up with the dawn and out, just managing to scoff down our breakfast. Excitement overcame our hunger too, a very rare event. Then we were off to see the floats, the gaudy, magical floats brought alive by the very people that held them with their outrageous, colourful costumes. The Marching Bands with the Sea Scouts, Boy Scouts, the Band of the Salvation Army, The Territorial Army Band. All were beginning to congregate outside Herne Bay's station: the beautiful open ‘giant shell’ with its seat, the pearl of which had centre stage, the pearl that was this year's Miss Herne Bay. (I've already said my sister Josie won it in 1956. Melly was to be a lady-in-waiting a few years later) All were gathered together and then sorted out.
Bands, Clowns, Jugglers, the local Herne Bay Operatic Society; the local Drama Group; the Hasland Dancing School; (where Melly first trod the boards in her ballet career that eventually took her to White Lodge, home of the Royal Ballet) The British Legion. And then there were the Rowing Club boys, the boats hoisted high up on the lorry, long and slim, highly varnished rowing boats. They used to squirt the crowd with water until some old clapped-out, spoil-sport put a stop to it. Then there came the Fire Brigade with its highly polished, red engine. It was all exciting stuff!
At about 2 0'clock when all had been sorted out, there was a loud: BOOM, BOOM, BOOM! BOOM, BOOM, BOOM! Tra laa la, tra laa la. The band of the Sea Scouts started up, and they were off! We used to follow the procession. At the same time stuffing ourselves with candy-floss and toffee apples…and chips, we never tired of chips and vinegar. We would sprinkle so much vinegar on the chips that we could suck the now hot vinegar out the corner of the bag. Grrreat!
We followed the procession to its conclusion. Marched with the bands, laughed at the clowns, got squirted at by the rowing club boys, smiled and waved at by the current reigning Miss Herne Bay. And when it was all over and the crowds had dispersed, we marched happy and hot to our beds talking far into the night. Then, exhausted, we fell asleep.
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