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All these hot summer afternoons that we are having at the moment, (especially Sundays), made me think of my visits to the Nottingham Arboretum back in the 1980s. Most cities and towns have this precious piece of tranquility almost on their doorstep, and one should think themselves lucky that they have something like that in their own area. The Arnold area has a lovely pond just outside the local council's Civic Centre which I visit now and then by virtue of being local, and I realise how lucky I am to have it there, but when I lived close to the City Centre another place of similar value was familiar to me as well. They are very precious parts of our community. I suppose one can tell that I would rather live in a village or just the countryside instead of landlocked inner-city areas.
Take a mid to late 1980s summer Sunday afternoon - nothing but the EastEnders omnibus and sport on the TV, so why not go out and enjoy the hot weather? The City Centre is deserted as most shops are shut (only Christmas Day feels like that these days), and it would certainly please the Keep Sunday Special campaign many years later. A walk up Mansfield Road (which is what we would also have done in early October in order to reach the annual Goose Fair). Turn left (where one could see the Elbow Cafe on the other side of the main road) onto a side street and onwards through open gates, walked a bit more and came through a tunnel to the other side. Peaceful, quiet (unless someone had their ghetto blaster on, usually a red Philips Roller radio cassette recorder), but usually it was indeed quiet. Green, freshly mowed and attended to grass with grey footpath boundaries for visitors to walk on, (and presumably, the odd Keep off the Grass sign as well), and probably more dark green benches than in the House of Commons; in this case, the almost avocado paint-peeling pews were every 30 yards or so on foot, and they were perfect for sitting down and having a rest on. People sunbathing topless (men of course), with blanket and the odd picnic basket and cool box beside them. Not a Teddy Bears' picnic either.
Statues of local people who were around in the 19th century can be seen from the other end of the park; many of them with full name, dates of birth and death intact; many of them politicians and upper crust elite figures who were the embodiment of early Victorian Britain. They lived in died from 18-something to 18-something, and they didn't live too long either, unless like their successors due to better health and technology to hand. This is what I would think as being the social history that we needed to be aware of, and it was the perfect place to see and acknowledge it, and hopefully future generations will do the same as well. A former Member of Parliament, presumably for defunct constituency Nottingham Central gets mentioned - well, there was not many places to hand a blue plaque to be honest.
Occasionally, an ice cream van would be in attendance (50p for a 99 with a Cadbury's Flake plonked inside it - that was how much it cost in 1988), and even some brass band would be playing some of their favourite tunes to anyone who just happened top be passing by. Sitting down on one of the benches, opening a can of Coca-Cola or orange Tango (when the ring pulls were detachable) and consuming the soft drink while others walked on by, or indeed the black corrugated benches near the aviary. There might just be a litterbin at the end of the bench as well just for convenience's sake to put both ring pull and Coca-Cola or Tango can inside it after use. In fact, it did remind me of a 1985 or 1986 visit; we took a couple of cans of Coca-Cola with us, and I was amazed to see that the Best Before date on the bottom of the can was January 1988 which I thought was a date well into the future, and so I believe that it was in around 1985 or 1986 when that happened because they were the days when a couple of years into the future was was indeed well into the future and two years ago was in the distant past. Perhaps have a packet of Walkers Crisps to go along with it, although for some reason it makes one thirsty rather than hungry.
It was an agreeable alternative to being bored at home and not finding anything to do - what about going to Tesco and getting food? Well, you couldn't back then, and it was a few years before the Sunday Trading Act in 1994, one couldn't do much shopping and going to a local park was the only reason for going out, and not one which had children's swings and slides either. It is a piece of personal social history which I would like to think has stood still after all these years, and the nostalgia value is tremendous. Listening to the Top 30 and having the Sunday dinner and then by 2.00 pm, deciding what to do for the afternoon. With regards to Sunday opening of shops, I still prefer them to be opened and closed on Sundays, and one can still enjoy the traditionalism of a walk to the Arboretum, just like our predecessors did all those decades ago. But as recently as 10 years ago, I have associated Sunday afternoons with getting Private Eye from WHSmith and then getting some burgers from McDonald's before getting the bus back home again.
Going further on, one hears the sound of birds and so we get to see the aviary with some coloured parakeets in residence there and are very beautiful to look at. Turn around and one can see the pond with ducks and swans swimming around as free as anything, and before they were no long allowed, the odd-pensioner with a Hovis bread wrapper full of breadcrumbs, attempting to feed the birds just like in the Mary Poppins song. I believe that there was also a place around there that sold ice creams and ice lollies as well. It was opened back in 1852, and if one can close one's eyes and imagine, one could be transported back to mid 19th century Britain and how little it had changed if one tried hard enough. I went with my family and going through the tunnel reminded me of sometime around 1987 and my mother saying "it will be your birthday soon - what would you like?" which made me think that it was during the summer holidays in August. Feeding a duck some breadcrumbs, it did a two-syllable "quack-quack" which was probably duck-speak for "thank you"! And no wonder, we say: "'ey up, me duck" in these neck of the woods. And then we had to go home again, and hopefully it was a Bank Holiday the next day and not a school day.
Take a mid to late 1980s summer Sunday afternoon - nothing but the EastEnders omnibus and sport on the TV, so why not go out and enjoy the hot weather? The City Centre is deserted as most shops are shut (only Christmas Day feels like that these days), and it would certainly please the Keep Sunday Special campaign many years later. A walk up Mansfield Road (which is what we would also have done in early October in order to reach the annual Goose Fair). Turn left (where one could see the Elbow Cafe on the other side of the main road) onto a side street and onwards through open gates, walked a bit more and came through a tunnel to the other side. Peaceful, quiet (unless someone had their ghetto blaster on, usually a red Philips Roller radio cassette recorder), but usually it was indeed quiet. Green, freshly mowed and attended to grass with grey footpath boundaries for visitors to walk on, (and presumably, the odd Keep off the Grass sign as well), and probably more dark green benches than in the House of Commons; in this case, the almost avocado paint-peeling pews were every 30 yards or so on foot, and they were perfect for sitting down and having a rest on. People sunbathing topless (men of course), with blanket and the odd picnic basket and cool box beside them. Not a Teddy Bears' picnic either.
Statues of local people who were around in the 19th century can be seen from the other end of the park; many of them with full name, dates of birth and death intact; many of them politicians and upper crust elite figures who were the embodiment of early Victorian Britain. They lived in died from 18-something to 18-something, and they didn't live too long either, unless like their successors due to better health and technology to hand. This is what I would think as being the social history that we needed to be aware of, and it was the perfect place to see and acknowledge it, and hopefully future generations will do the same as well. A former Member of Parliament, presumably for defunct constituency Nottingham Central gets mentioned - well, there was not many places to hand a blue plaque to be honest.
Occasionally, an ice cream van would be in attendance (50p for a 99 with a Cadbury's Flake plonked inside it - that was how much it cost in 1988), and even some brass band would be playing some of their favourite tunes to anyone who just happened top be passing by. Sitting down on one of the benches, opening a can of Coca-Cola or orange Tango (when the ring pulls were detachable) and consuming the soft drink while others walked on by, or indeed the black corrugated benches near the aviary. There might just be a litterbin at the end of the bench as well just for convenience's sake to put both ring pull and Coca-Cola or Tango can inside it after use. In fact, it did remind me of a 1985 or 1986 visit; we took a couple of cans of Coca-Cola with us, and I was amazed to see that the Best Before date on the bottom of the can was January 1988 which I thought was a date well into the future, and so I believe that it was in around 1985 or 1986 when that happened because they were the days when a couple of years into the future was was indeed well into the future and two years ago was in the distant past. Perhaps have a packet of Walkers Crisps to go along with it, although for some reason it makes one thirsty rather than hungry.
It was an agreeable alternative to being bored at home and not finding anything to do - what about going to Tesco and getting food? Well, you couldn't back then, and it was a few years before the Sunday Trading Act in 1994, one couldn't do much shopping and going to a local park was the only reason for going out, and not one which had children's swings and slides either. It is a piece of personal social history which I would like to think has stood still after all these years, and the nostalgia value is tremendous. Listening to the Top 30 and having the Sunday dinner and then by 2.00 pm, deciding what to do for the afternoon. With regards to Sunday opening of shops, I still prefer them to be opened and closed on Sundays, and one can still enjoy the traditionalism of a walk to the Arboretum, just like our predecessors did all those decades ago. But as recently as 10 years ago, I have associated Sunday afternoons with getting Private Eye from WHSmith and then getting some burgers from McDonald's before getting the bus back home again.
Going further on, one hears the sound of birds and so we get to see the aviary with some coloured parakeets in residence there and are very beautiful to look at. Turn around and one can see the pond with ducks and swans swimming around as free as anything, and before they were no long allowed, the odd-pensioner with a Hovis bread wrapper full of breadcrumbs, attempting to feed the birds just like in the Mary Poppins song. I believe that there was also a place around there that sold ice creams and ice lollies as well. It was opened back in 1852, and if one can close one's eyes and imagine, one could be transported back to mid 19th century Britain and how little it had changed if one tried hard enough. I went with my family and going through the tunnel reminded me of sometime around 1987 and my mother saying "it will be your birthday soon - what would you like?" which made me think that it was during the summer holidays in August. Feeding a duck some breadcrumbs, it did a two-syllable "quack-quack" which was probably duck-speak for "thank you"! And no wonder, we say: "'ey up, me duck" in these neck of the woods. And then we had to go home again, and hopefully it was a Bank Holiday the next day and not a school day.
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