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How It Was

Every school holiday we worked on the farms. Often it was pea picking but we also harvested runner beans, potatoes, black currents and strawberries — each in their season. Sometimes we travelled quite a distance to work. The incredible thing, looking back on it, was that our parents never seemed to worry about us. Sure enough there were occasional tales of terrible accidents or of children being attacked or kidnapped — but no one thought about such things then.
We would disappear early, on our bikes, and not return until dark. Just the thought of letting my own kids do the same today gives me kittens. But back then, that’s how it was. All the harvesting was paid for by the bag or the box. The faster you worked, the more you earned. In one 5 week season I earned about £400. That was seriously good money in the 1970s — probably the same as my Dad earned. And we knew how to spend. We were always treating ourselves to something. But usually the aim was to pay for a holiday before school started again. Of course we often had family holidays when we were younger. But we kids also took our own holidays. Usually it was camping but my focus was beach holidays. Wales was my favourite locations. Again I still can’t imagine how our parents were brave enough to let us go. I can only assume they were not worried: That and the fact that as children they had their own adventures. Both my parents were small children during the war and were evacuated from London to be safe from Hitler’s bombs. They went in the clothes they were wearing plus a small suitcase — sent to unknown (in advance) villages and to the care of strangers. My teenage beach holidays probably seemed a stroll in the park to them and they took our safety for granted.
Nowadays there seems to be a climate of fear around my generation, concerning the safety of our children. Has the world really changed so much? May be it’s just that the media makes us think more about the horrible things that do happen?
Mind you — there was one close shave when I was a kid. It was on one of our Welsh camping holidays. We would have been 15 at the time. I fell asleep on a floating lilo and got swept out to sea. I was only asleep for second and at first was not worried. I began to swim steadily pushing the lilo back to the beach — but after 10 minutes, to my horror, I was no closer to shore. In a panic I jettisoned the lilo so I could swim properly and then swam with all my strength. After another 10 minutes still I made no progress. Then completely irrationally I started worrying about sharks. I knew that there are no dangerous sharks there but just the thought paralyzed me. I told myself not to panic. The sea was really calm and I knew that the tide had to change at some point. I also knew my friends on the beach would call the coastguard. The shore seemed miles away, exhaustion was kicking in and I realized also that I was cold. Shark fins began to circle in my imagination. I was in despair. You hear about accidents and drowning at sea but never imagine that it’s going to be you.