So I am off to Blackpool (well sorta kinda near Blackpool) mid next week not for fun but for work. Fun/work never the twain shall meet….
Anyways knowing me..so efficient… left it all at the last minute, and deliberating whether to travel same day or stay over the night before. Decisions, decisions, decisions…quandary…
And I don’t know Blackpool well at all. Actually the last time I stayed in Blackpool was either for NUS conference or LPYS conference… and that must be 20-odd years ago. Ahh, the memories of storming the Winter Gardens… No, sorry, that definitely was a fantasy from my misspent idealistic Trot youth….
Ok, back to the present. I don’t think I have ever ever ever stayed in a nice hotel in Blackpool (and i have travelled wide and far in this country mainly due to politicking/work and have stayed in some gawd forsaken dives but also comfortable nice places… one being in Retford…Yes, Retford. ‘Where that…’ I hear you cry .
Even as a kid we stayed in boarding houses in Blackpool which seemed suspended in time and space …circa 1950s. So my expectations are low and maybe dissing Blackpool unnecessarily as the place coulda heaved itself into the 21st century, and I don’t want to offend anyone in cyber land who likes Blackpool and has fond memories.
Mine, I think, are repressed out of the trauma of a Trot youth …. writing articles, producing leaflets through the night, no sleep, listening to other comrades shag the night away, producing leaflets, writing articles, no sleep, listening to comrades shag the night away (‘Oi, keep it down, some of us are producing leaflets’!!… mutter… no dedication…mutter..mutter…to the revolutionary cause…enjoying themselves…mutter…. bourgeois…mutter…b’stards….).
Yes, now, where was I…? (Snap out of it Harpy!) None of that now thankfully, no producing leaflets, papers, selling papers, no discussing political positions/stances/orientations/interventions on various important resolutions and bloody caucuses either…
So to cut a long story short…. if anyone knows of an half decent hotel in Blackpool then…prayer..do tell. And if anyone has any good positive experiences of Blackpool… well, keep them to yourself… (only joking…do tell)
Last time I was in Blackpool, I had a lot of fun going to see Freddie Starr live. Mind you, that was in the 1980s…
As well as the obvious attractions why not go tomb-stoning off the pier? Take your cossie.
I used to go to Blackpool for day trips with me parents in the 60s and 70s. It was mainly to see the lights. They were the big attraction although I liked the tower, chips and rock. Sometimes we had a go at the donkeys or entered an arcade. Me dad thought he was funny and shouted ‘House’ in the doorways of Bingo Halls and then quickly sniggered off. We never stayed because we could easily drive home. It’s too far for a day trip now.
Tell us what ya get up to la
Tomb-stoning? Isn’t that a rather dangerous sport….? Take my cossie? I dunno if they have cleaned up the sea there as that idea certainly doesn’t entertain me in the least and me likes swimming in the sea…just not Blackpool… tomb stoning or a quick paddle…either… pollution….
Yes, tis similar to my experiences of Blackpool as a kid, certainly the Blackpool rock….and donkeys…
Splintered: Freddie Starr…?????!!!! To quote Stewie Griffin, ‘What the deuce…’?
Freddie was always brilliant live, and bloody terrifying if you were anywhere near the front. Maybe it’s the Blackpool air.
Ha! Were you near the front then Splintered..?
I know Morrisey’s song ‘Every day is like Sunday’ is about neighbouring Morcambe, however, every time I visit Blackpool, I can’t get that song out of my head:
“This is the coastal town
That they forgot to close down
Armageddon – come armageddon!
Come, armageddon! come!”
Other than that, have a pleasant trip.
Now that made me chuckle……
I was sitting around the middle. But whenever Freddie got a certain glint in his eye, you could feel a shudder moving backwards, like a wave.