Holidays can sometimes evoke wonderful memories in the minds of adults. Reflecting on hazy summer days spent building sandcastles, paddling in the sea, eating ice-cream (mmmmmmmmm, ice-cream) or contemplating the clockwork mechanism that propels Jim Bowen and his special prize speedboat. Such memories can often be warped through the rose-tinted spectacles of nostalgia. This can lead to disappointment when revisiting locations frequented as a child.
A couple of years ago I decided to partake in this look back in time and visit a place I often went to on holiday, Havenby-on-Sea*. Havenby-on-Sea was located exactly halfway between Hayling Island and the Isle Of Wight. It was advertised as pretty, tranquil village that became a bustling mecca of family holidaymakers during the summer months. Golden beaches of what seemed to be neverending miles of sandcastle building potential and relaxing nightlife where families could enjoy Bingo, amusements, holiday souvenir shops and frozen safari animals soaked in Corona Cherryade. All of this was wonderful when experienced as a young child in the 1980's. However times change and nothing ever stays the same. Upon driving into Havenby-on-Sea I was immediately drawn to the dilapidated beach-huts that bookended the small pleasure park on the seafront. These were once a multi-coloured row of daytime dwellings for sun-seeking families who frequented the beach and pleasure park. In the present they had become a symbol for 'Broken Britain', unkempt, vacant and vandalised. An almost uncanny resemblance to this once proud nation. The pleasure park was just a collection of small carriage rides and a bumper car arena that had obviously seen better days. As I carried on driving into the village I saw closed down pubs, grime ridden fish and chip shops and caravan parks that almost resembled the aftermath of a Destruction Derby. It was a sad day and I have to admit I shed a tear upon passing the sign that said 'You Are Now Leaving Havenby-on-Sea'. As I stopped the car to afford myself one last glimpse of the village something strange began to happen. The ground beneath me began to shudder and shake. An almighty roar emanated from the road that sounded like a rift in time had opened up. The road and surrounding grassy areas proceeded to crack and the earth began to shake more violently. The village of Haveby-on-Sea was immediately covered in a thin mist and then ripped itself apart from its surroundings. The village turned 9 times and then floated dreamlike off into the sea where it stopped for a brief moment as if to preserve what energy it had left, and then shot faster than the speed of light straight into the sky. I was astounded at this apparent miraculous event. It transpires that I witnessed a Seismic-vacational-perma-vacational Movement. This occurs when places visited as a child on holiday, that now have fallen into various states of neglect decide they've had enough and relocate to a better place. In this place they are exactly how you remember them to be in what was their heyday.
If you ever decide to visit an old childhood holiday haunt and it's not what it once was, remember that it may just be waiting to move someplace where it can relive former glories. In your mind.
*Havenby-on-Sea is a pseudonym used to protect the identity of the real Havenby-on-Sea.
If you have experienced anything you have read in this story please contact The Orangeade Monkey Lifeguard Association for free tickets.
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