‘Open wide, please!’
Margaret Mather recalls the sweet taste of adventure on her first trip to the Continent
In 1961, aged ten, I had my first experience of a foreign land. It took two full days to travel from a small village on the west coast of Scotland, to the distant shores of Ostend in Belgium, but I wouldn’t have swapped this adventure for anything.
Working for British
Rail as a signalman, my father enjoyed subsidised ferry and train travel, but my parents still had to save every spare penny for our holiday.
I’ll never forget the dress my seamstress mother made for me to travel in, with its navy-blue background printed with yachts topped with red sails. A white Peter Pan collar and three large red buttons completed the top half. The skirt was full and had a net petticoat underneath. With my white knitted bolero top, new white sandals and frilly ankle socks, I felt so glamorous.
We caught the train to Glasgow, then boarded the sleeper train for London Euston. At St Pancras we caught a train to Dover, then the ferry to Ostend. Tired and tetchy we took a taxi to our boarding house – it was dark when we arrived and all we could do was fall into bed exhausted.
Opening the curtains the following morning I was excited to see the beach, the shimmering sea and most of all, the sun. The smell of newly baked bread wafted into my nostrils and we soon discovered that our room was over a baker’s shop.
Mum and I visited the bakery daily. Our favourite cake was made up of two oblong puff pastry slices, filled with the best confectioner’s custard we’d ever tasted. On top, white icing decorated with zigzag chocolate stripes finished it off. A daily delight for the tastebuds. I still have a fondness for a vanilla custard slice but have never sampled any as delicious as they were.
We’d hire go-karts and ride up and down the prom, then eat chips from paper cones…
Most mornings Mum would buy fresh bread rolls from the bakery and fill them with cheese or ham ready to take to the beach. In the evenings, we’d hire go-karts and ride up and down the promenade then eat chips from paper cones. Crisp and golden, they were so very tasty and we wolfed them down.
I can’t remember much about our day trip to Amsterdam apart from the milk. I’d never tasted such rich, creamy milk before and as milk was all I drank as a child, it was a real treat. I remember my father buying a blue and white Delft coffee grinder from a market stall. It was on display in our kitchen for years.
Before we left Ostend for the long journey home, my parents bought me a beautiful turquoise and cream, hand-held, transistor radio. Arriving at customs in Dover, Dad told me to sit by the wall and keep my radio in my bag while he and Mum queued at the ‘nothing to declare’ channel. Fiddling with the controls, loud music vibrated around the customs hall. My dad glared at me, so I hurriedly switched it off. It wasn’t until many years later I learned that he was unsure if he had to declare the radio, so had asked me to keep it in my bag, just in case!
Our trip was full of adventure and fun, and maybe one day I’ll go back for a scrumptious custard slice and a paper cone of the best chips on the prom!