Wigan Album

Wigan Wakes.

By Tom Walsh.

With the approach of what would be Wigan Wakes which started on the first full week of July ; I thought it would be fascinating to look back on how holidays were in the 1950s when the whole town seemed to come to a standstill and the populous en masse encamped to Blackpool, there was of course other venues, Rhyl Morecambe Scarborough etc but Blackpool seemed the favourite choice of the majority of ' Wigan'ers '.

Foreign holidays were for the privileged few, my aunties thought it was very adventurous when some older cousins went to The Isle of Man, fretting that if they got into any sort of trouble they faced "The Birch " .The island did not follow the UK in abolishing judicial corporal punishment in 1948.For 12 years after that, birching was principally a punishment for boys under 15 ,however in 1960 the Manx law was altered so that magistrates could order corporal punishment for males up to 21 years. The threat of the birch (It consisted of four or five long and fairly stout hazel branches bound tightly together at one end. ) seemed to quell some high jinks often seen in the mainland resorts. It was finally abolished in 1976. Probably the most notorious case was in July 1965 when four 19-year-old thugs on holiday from Glasgow got 9 strokes each -- more or less equivalent, one supposes, to 36 strokes of the cane across the bare seat. This led to a great clamour (especially in Scotland) to bring back the birch !

However back to Wakes Weeks and the almost ghost town Wigan became at the annual jamboree . Newsagents for example were forced by local agreement to close ,if they wished they could sell newspapers outside their shops, but no goods from inside the premises, the idea was to make sure newsagents got a holiday without the risk of losing custom to a rival who decided to remain open for business. Almost all Wigan works closed for the Wigan Weeks.

Saturday morning on the first week, the stations were ram jammed, the excitement was palpable, children longing for the first sight of "the tower " a new bucket and spade and of course the donkey rides and toffee apples . The thought of a Candy Floss would make you weak at the knees.


On arrival at Blackpool you'd be meet with young lads with a collection of old prams , pushchairs and home made trolleys offering to take your cases to the boarding house , a quarter the price of a taxi. I used to think that if I lived in Blackpool I would like part of the action and would be able to use an old tansad stored under the stairs in Mc Cormick Street.

On reaching the boarding house you'd be meet by the camp commandant , sorry I mean landlady who you'd have to obey for the next 7 days , very few would holiday for a fortnight in those days. Blackpool landladies had a reputation for being strict with guests, that reputation was not without foundation- woe betide any one complaining about food or anything else for that matter.

The gong was one way the Sergeant Major, sorry there I go again, the landlady showed her authority, no one dared enter the dining room until 'she who must be obeyed' struck the gong , anyone brave enough to enter the said facility before would be sent back to their room with a flea in their ear, on one visit my uncle tried his luck and meet with this humiliation.

Not all landladies of course were as bad as I've painted , one house we stayed at in Haverlock Street was the complete opposite ,she was kind and considerate, from memory I think she hailed from Wigan, again from memory I think her name was Mrs. Hannon. So good was her reputation if you hadn't booked by Christmas you would be disappointed . Many would book for the following year as they left !

Some of our other places of lodgings definitely came into the first mentioned category , in particularly one in Palatine Road. Before we'd crossed the threshold we were informed of meal times ,and how important it was to be on time ,and with a sideways glance at me, that under no circumstances must children be allowed to play on the landings , hallway or the small garden , she looked so fearsome that I never ventured outside the bedroom unaccompanied.

The bedrooms would be completely unacceptable to todays generation. No en suites in those days, in fact it was quite common to see adverts proclaiming "Hot and Cold water and Spring Interior Mattresses all rooms " as though it was the ultimate in luxury . The bathroom and toilet facilities don't bear thinking about ; one WC for up to 5 rooms, that's 10 people spying their chance before breakfast ! We must have managed some how, because being summoned by the sound of the gong every bedroom door would open simultaneously the guests forming an orderly line like schoolchildren queueing for the canteen . The bathroom was sacrosanct and could only be used by prior arrangement, with you know who . There was an extra charge for using the facility,I can't remember the charge but a shilling seems to ring a bell.

I consulted copies of the Wigan Observer from 1956 to give an idea of the costs of staying at a typical boarding house , it was usual to have breakfast ,lunch and high-tea ,prices varied from 14 shillings (70p) to 17 shillings (85p) a day -full board. One rather quaint advert says 'Honeymooners Welcome ' !

When you consider how much work was involved in running a guest house maybe we should forgive those landladies for being so grumpy. All except my nemesis in Palatine Road .

I know as we get older we tend to look at the past with rose coloured spectacles but I found Blackpool magical and enjoyed every moment of my holidays . Time spent on the beach when your imagination ran riot, building sandcastles with a moat and a windmill stuck in the top. Mam quite content in her deckchair ( when she finally managed to " put it up ") watching the children's capers. There would jugs of tea for the sands a 5 shilling returnable deposit required, such simple things gave so much pleasure .

Talking about simple pleasures, another thing that sticks in my mind Dads and Uncles had a fascination with getting up early, 6 am to take a walk "on the front " a cup of tea at cafe and pick up a newspaper. As a child I used to think that when I reached adulthood I would do the same , in my child like way In thought it was obligatory for male adults ! Although the bed doesn't pull as much as it did in my teens, roaming around a sea front at 6 in the morning ,be it at home or abroad holds no allure

Thinking about "the sands" from there I always noticed on the promenade Roberts Oyster Rooms , I used to wonder what they tasted like . apparently it been there since 1876. There used to be a dining room, but trade diminished in recent years and now it's a takeaway only. 68 years after my first sighting, age 5, of that iconic building I still haven't tried an oyster , maybe next time I visit I try one , before it's to late for Robert or for me !

Pacific ocean spend many dinner in there when I was at tec, 2/6 for soup dinner and sweet.

A lovely comical tale of the 50's Tom. In many ways you were lucky to go away for a week, many only went for 'days away' - the usual Blackpool, Southport or New Brighton. I was 14 when I saw the Lakes for the first time- something I never forgot.

Nice nostalgic memories Tom, Brilliant!!

A most enjoyable account from Tom.
Was it Les Dawson or Mike Harding, who said Blackpool landladies ate their young?

Fantastic, Tom! I really enjoyed that. Speaking of advertising hot and cold water to show that the boarding-house was high-class, I have a book about New Brighton in the 1950s and 1960s where one café advertises on its menu, "Bread and Butter cut corner-to-corner"! This, presumably, was "posh"!. I remember The Golden Mile in Blackpool as a child, and all the freak shows that wouldn't be allowed today....."See "IT" from Outer Space"...See the fattest teenager in the world"...."The three-headed sheep".."The Palace of Strange Girls" etc. etc. But do you know, Tom, I would rather see them than the foul-mouthed, drunken stag and hen parties, and the druggies, that have taken their place. At least the monsters on the Golden Mile in our youth were make-believe.

There was also the charge levied by some boarding houses - "6d for use of cruet".

I got one day in Southport, that was it. One lad I knew went to Wales a few times but holidays for the rest of us just didn’t happen. Thank you for
posting Tom.

Coleclough & Massey. If I remember rightly, had the business, in the sale of wedding outfits, if those are the right words for the business.

Sun drenched climes were beyond most even into the early 70s. Dave Whelan's son Paul was in our class at Shevy and was the only kid ever to return from summer holiday with a tan.
As a boy the nearest I got to Spain was either Brighton or Paignton.
I've been a lot further since but I wouldn't swap for anything...
The smell of breakfast wafting up the boarding house stairs. The hope for the table in the window. Always on best behaviour so as not to show up Mam and Dad . Sliding the in/out indicator in the lobby. Big sea gulls on lamp posts. Buying big bumper special editions of the Dandy and Beano the size of the Wigan Observer. Struggling to put my trunks on under a towel. Wading out neck deep to ride the oncoming waves . A mistimed bob and a gob full of sea water. Telescopes, sixpence for 2 minutes. Watching the tide wash over the place you had been all day. The promenade lights coming on. The last day my dad gave me £1 to spend on anything I wanted . I always got an Airfix model from Woolworths.

Tom I can assure you, you haven't missed a thing with oysters. Salty slime is my descriptuon. Also even if you do like them it can be a bit like playing Russian roulette. My Dad loved them after 6 years in the Navy. However one day be had a bad one (they have to be live when you eat them and they go off very quickly if dead). Not only was never very ill, but was allergic to them from that moment on. Apparently this is not unusual and a work co?league of mine on Bristol had exactly the same experience.

PS. From the clothes and the Liverpool football bags carried by the boys, this photo looks like from the early 60s. Within a few years clearly all of these people would be jetting off to the Costas on package holidays and the world had changed. PPS does anyone know when the Happy Palace opened. Again my memories are of it in the early 60s.

A Peaky Blinders haircut! Lad looks like a young Arthur Shelby.

We used to go to the Pacific Ocean odd times five bob business lunch,and I remember Jimmy,who took your money on the desk. Think he opened a restaurant in Wigan lane.1o5m2

Poet , Brighton and Paignton ? Can I ask , where these within our Solar system?

We could never afford holidays. My Wakes week was spent going for dad's paper at the top of Smethurst Lane, under the clock; roaming Winky Woods, spotting down at the Branch; and going to Cyril's chippy in Loch Street as the day dimmed...Oh, and collecting other folk's postcards sent from Butlin's and Wales to name but a few. I loved it.

We went to Blackpool every year until 1948.Women & children only.My dad always went away fishing.First stop after leaving our cases we went to Pablo's so my aunt Maud could have a Knickerbocker Glory.Madam Tussaud's had been evacuated there for the war & I loved the Chamber of Horrors.My sister took my pocket money one year to play non stop Begin the Beguine on could it have been a juke box in 1938? Wasted many a penny in the Arcades trying to get the clutching hand to secure 5 Players' Weights.My mother packed 7 frocks from Coleclough & Massey.Always fashionable.

It did seem a long long way XPat and the colour of the red Devonshire soil could almost have been Martian.

Copy Jarvo ! Wakes Week? We didn’t have that either my end .
All I knew and loved was I was off school and free , Other places just didn’t exist . We made our own adventures from nowt . We were wild of course , but I always felt safe , because I was part of the same family like me. It’s hard to relate that nowadays. In them days things just where, and knotted into place , now, things are all over the place . There was an order , a way , which folk went with , now they have no idea what’s coming next !

anybody remember your dad buying the daily mirror,you had to find a bloke called chalky white ,and claim the five pounds there would be a saying in the daily mirror ,and you had to say this to him

Yes, I remember the newspaper man but I thought he was Lobby Ludd. Or perhaps more than one newspaper did the same, resulting in differing names.

I only remember Lobby Lud who seemed to be permanently on holiday, I vaguely recall photos of him in newspapers wearing a gaberdeen mac, dressed for rain presumably- or was it a disguise? People had to go up to him to claim a prize by saying something pre planned. There was always pictures of people with beaming smiles who caught him for prize money.

One day in Southport with Lower Ince Labour Club,that was it for year.But alway's had a belting day.

J J Bradburn’s was a sports shop, wasn’t it?. Thursby’s near by, the photographer’s, they did our wedding album.

JJB best known for sports, but when I knew it (late 50's) sports was mostly ground floor, and first floor had camping gear, model railway stuff and such like.

Coleclough and Massey the place to go for wedding finery. I went there for headdresses for mine and the bridesmaids.