Time for the tide to turn for town
Nostalgia might be a thing of the past . . . but it’s forever present. As a humble columnist, barely a week would pass without someone wanting to reminisce about the Ayr of the good old days.
And under my new mantle of elected member – it’s now recurrent on an almost daily basis.
“Councillor Shields, we don’t want a fancy new leisure centre . . . just give us our auld Ayr back. Is that too much to ask?”
Well . . . actually . . . it is too much to ask.
And if you needed any proof that the Ayr of yesteryear is gone forever – you only have to go back as far as last Monday.
It must have been the sunniest and warmest Glasgow Fair Monday that most of us can remember.
And yes – our wee seaside town was bustling. The Waverley paddled into Ayr harbour, the horses galloped at Ayr Racecourse and the kids splashed along the finest beach with the finest views that Ayrshire has to offer.
But it still wasn’t the Glasgow Fair of “the good old days”.
Holiday makers and holiday trends have moved on.
Donkey rides and deck chairs don’t cut it anymore.
It’s now up to South Ayrshire Council to move on with them.
No-one can give you “the auld Ayr back”. What SAC needs to do is build the foundations of the “new Ayr” – for the enjoyment of locals and visitors alike – that will serve the next generation.
Trust me . . . I can wallow in nostalgia with the best of them.
Back in my days of short trousers
– I was barely allowed out of sight on Fair Monday.
On any other day of the school summer holidays, I had the freedom of the Burgh.
The beach, Seafield golf course, Craigie’s pitch’n’putt or the tennis courts behind Peter Boyle Bowling Club.
I could win The Open in the morning and Wimbledon’s Men’s Singles in th afternoon.
But Fair Monday?
The way my mum told it – Genghis Khan and his Mongol hordes were in town for the day . . . and they were the good guys! It was only in my teenage years that I got to witness it first hand. I’d seen Ayr on Gold Cup day and witnessed the Old Firm’s legions descend on Somerset.
But I’d never seen my home town so busy.
I remember a tea-time queue at Ayr Station that snaked out the booking hall, up the walkway to Smith Street then all the way down to the railway bridge at Mill Street.
The police, a single decker bus load of them, had set up barriers – and two ice cream vans serviced the seething mass as they waited several hours for their trains home.
Not too long ago, I was sharing these memories with a lovely old lady who worked as a barmaid – I’m sure she mentioned the old Railway Tavern in Smith Street.
“I think we had 14 staff working one Fair Monday. The men would be just off the train – and they’d give their wives a few bob to take the weans to the beach.
Some of them stayed the whole day and their wives came back to take them home.
“For the men, it was the same whisky and beer they always drank – all the Fair meant was a different pub with different people. But I felt sorry for their wives. I suppose that’s just the way it was in those days”.
As the song says, ‘those days’ have gone now – and in the past they must remain. And – with another nod to ‘Flower of Scotland’ – Ayr can still rise now, and be a great seaside town again. And a tourist town with a railway station worthy of the name would be a good place to start!
Council leader Martin Dowey has shared some of his new administrations’ plans for improvements to the esplanade with me. They’ve still to be run up all the right flagpoles and saluted by all the right panels – and I’m not going to steal his thunder. But based on what he’s told me – the changes will breathe some new life into our greatest natural asset.
It could also see the return of some traditional seaside favourites – but I doubt you’ll be going around in circles in a shoogly wee steam train anytime soon! Yes – those days were great . . . but only great in their day.
By next year’s Glasgow Fair, the new council administration will have had a full 12 months to get their act together.
Let’s all hope we’ll see the tide turning in Ayr’s favour.