And so, we roll on. To August 1986. Part way through the month an envelope arrived containing notification of my GCE O Level grades. I knew it was coming, after all, I’d addressed it and stuck a stamp on it. 17p, first class. In 2024, a letter costs £1.25 to post.
You can feel the anticipation build for our camping trip. We see the usual fluctuating British weather—ranging from pleasant days to torrential rain. John Lennon hit the nail on the head in his lyrics to I Am the Walrus, “And if the sun don’t shine, you get a tan from standing in the English rain.”
The diary entries traverse through routine days filled with cricket, improvised American football, and the imaginative construction of dens with bales of straw, always with the risk of the farmer chasing us in his Volvo.
I guess (I hope!) what I’m presenting is the quintessential British summer, punctuated with our attempts to stave off boredom through outdoor games, despite the weather’s capricious nature. In a microcosm of the summer’s weather, our camping expedition itself unfolded with excitement, from the initial sunny arrival and beach outings to an unexpected turn when strong winds and rain wreaked havoc on our tent.
The adventure concluded with an impromptu train ride home, adding an adventurous twist to the tale. Throughout the month, there is, I hope, the essence of teenage life. As with previous months, I have navigated the mundane, embraced spontaneity, and made memories amidst the backdrop of the British summer, culminating in personal achievements and family moments, such as scooping a decent set of O Levels and celebrating birthdays.
Friday 1 August 1986
As we moved into August, the excitement was building around the camping trip.
Today was a “nice” day initially “but slowly got worse” until 4:25 pm when I wrote that “it is pissing down.”
Saturday 2 August 1986
That word again!
You’ve heard it often enough, so I won’t use it again. In my defence this time, I even commented on my excess use of it!
It was a “very windy day”, not very summery at all. The Commonwealth Games in Edinburgh ended, and I noted that “Aukland (sic) NZ” was due to host the games in 1990.
Sunday 3 August 1986
“Today, was,” I wrote, “a bit of a funny day. It was quite nice but it rained a bit too.”
But then I went and spoiled things by using the word again. I was quite creative with its use, mind you. I’ll quote at length, just so you get the full effect!
“I got pissed off with the boredom but who cares; c’est la vie!”
And boy I must have been bored as I watched some American Football – a game that was being played at Wembley Stadium. What was the world coming to? The countdown to camping continued too – 9 days to go.
It was almost too exciting…
Monday 4 August 1986
Oops, boring again!
But anyway, enough of that. We got a brief look at how the world of the Admen works because after last night’s American Football; we played a game of it. No shoulder pads for us, or even a misshapen ball, but we had a blast.
I also gave an insight into the sarcasm with which the British psyche treats the weather – and here was me, just a trainee in the matter, “… then to everyone’s surprise, it rained. GOODBYE.”
Tuesday 5 August 1986
Back to good old British sport today – we played cricket.
Then we played our extended hide-and-seek game, Fox and Hounds. I’ve mentioned it before, but just to remind you:
Team the first runs off and hides and then the second team charges off after them. Rinse and repeat. The trouble is, today’s game did not go down too well as evidenced by my artful use of parenthesis, “(yawn!).”
We even had time left for a game of Risk, but this was cut artificially (mercifully?) short when one of our younger friends decided to drop a football on the board. It says in my diary that “we killed him,” but please sir, we didn’t… honestly!
No no, we just erm… roughed him up a bit.
Wednesday 6 August 1986
Oh boy, it just gets better.
The farmer at the back of ours had been busy in his field, bringing in his crop and baling up the straw. So, we had some ready-made building blocks available to us to make dens, tunnels etc, you name it, we could make it.
It was Minecraft, 1980s style!
Unfortunately, the fun had to stop when, just as dusk was beginning to settle, he started up the field in his car! It was a Volvo and I can still remember the thrill of seeing this veritable tank, headlamps on, revving up the field towards us. So off we jolly well ran, through the nearest back garden and out onto the street and relative safety.
I don’t know what sanction he would or even could have imposed on us if he’d caught us, although I do remember one lad being made to stack up the bales again after he’d knocked him down – perhaps this was because his dad knew the farmer. I don’t know.
But he never caught me, and to my knowledge, he didn’t know my dad, so nerr nerr ‘n nerr nerr.
We also played Fox and Hounds again, and still had time for an argument (about Fox and Hounds).
Thursday 7 August 1986
We again played Fox and Hounds today, and surprise, surprise, we actually played without arguing!
By some miracle, the sides were fair, so neither one got bored and therefore sodded off, leaving the other one out there, thinking that they’d found a good hiding place when in actual fact they weren’t being sought.
After a hard day at it, I needed a bath, so I had one… at 10:30!
Friday 8 August 1986
Mother’s birthday today.
Hard to fathom, but she was only in her mid-forties back then. Doesn’t time fly?
We went to town to buy provisions for the camping trip and in the evening some of our borrowed camping gear began to turn up. Not by magic though, people brought it in actual cars! We had a stove and a rucksack plus sleeping bags galore.
We were almost ready.
Saturday 9 August 1986
With a quite unnecessary disparaging comment, I noted that the Scottish football season started today. It was still two weeks until the start of the English season.
I did hardly anything all day, except play Trivial Pursuit round at Pete’s. As I noted, “good name, trivial game.” Well, er, yeah isn’t that the whole point?
And anyway, in the final analysis, show me a game that isn’t trivial.
Sunday 10 August 1986
I got up at 9:00 this morning, just in time to do my papers – Mum had been down to the paper shop to collect them for me.
Like I’ve said before they were bloody heavy – 20 News Of The Worlds, 20 Sunday Peoples and 10 Sunday Mirrors plus assorted Sunday Timeses, Telegraphs, Expresses and Mails On Sunday.
Went to “bed at 25 to 11.” I don’t know why this was noted and I’m not sure if it would have been early or late.
Monday 11 August 1986
Happy Birthday, Sister.
Apart from that, “nothing much,” happened today “because it rained nearly all day.”
Camping TOMORROW!
Tuesday 12 August 1986
So, the day dawned.
It was actually a bright day after the recent windy and wet nonsense we’d been enjoying. I can’t remember the exact configuration of the journey, but almost definitely, it would have been Dad who took us four boys.
There wouldn’t have been much room for anybody else in the car, but I have vague memories of it being a bit of a family day out. Hmm, my memory playing tricks again.
I am relying on my memory so can’t tell you definitively, as I didn’t write anything in my diary for the next few days, save for noting that I was on
H O L I D A Y H O L I D A Y H O L I D A Y H O L I D A Y H O L I D A Y
Hereby follow my memories of the expedition…
We arrived around lunchtime and drove our tent pegs into the sandy soil of the campsite. It was a blisteringly hot day by now, with a gentle cooling breeze coming off the sea. Once the responsible adult or adults had left us, we got down to the business of being young boys on holiday.
Obviously, we were not drinkers, so none of that nonsense. After all, we were a couple of 16-year-olds and a 14- and a 12-year-old, and these WERE innocent times.
The beach was only yards away, so we probably went there for the afternoon to play football, go paddling etc. You know the drill, the usual seaside-y holiday-y fun. Then it must have been back to camp for a slap-up camping tea – some form of tinned all-day breakfast no doubt! As the afternoon gave way to evening, we probably went out for a bit of an explore before settling down for the night and a good night’s kip before another day of sand-based fun and frolic.
Wednesday 13 and Thursday 14 August 1986
After promising ourselves a good night’s sleep, we did exactly the opposite and decided to stay up all night – what rebels!
We just talked and talked and talked and then talked some more. We must have been reasonably well-behaved because somebody would have surely come over and told us to be quiet – which nobody did.
After a hearty breakfast (our stock of tins already diminishing rapidly) we set off to explore the town. Now if you know Borth, you’ll know that it’s not big by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s got some shops, public toilets, and a railway station. All the essentials.
The weather continued fine from the previous day, but the wind did seem to be getting up. No matter, the sun was shining, and we had acres and acres of beach to play on.
We also had something much better to do. We had a copy of Penthouse Magazine that I had acquired at one of the shops down at the far end of the town from where we were staying. This was despite the fact that I was still a minor, albeit of 16 years and possibly looking a little older (yeah, right), but a minor, nevertheless.
It was quite a famous edition, featuring some candid shots of then-current Page 3 Star Linda Lusardi. As ‘on the QT’ fans of Page 3, and of the lovely Linda, this was quite a purchase I can tell you.
She wasn’t very old in these photos – 18 or 19 only. By all accounts she had fought hard to prevent these pictures from being published. In 1985 or 86 she was a woman with a good deal more influence and gravitas than she had as the late teen-aged girl when the photos were taken. Even then, though she still couldn’t prevent their publication.
There’s a huge debate around the pornography industry that I’m not going to get into here, save to repeat that many people don’t get to decide what is or isn’t published, or even snapped in the first place, Linda Lusardi included.
Anyway, back to tales of seaside camping. By the time darkness was falling, the wind had become really quite strong, but no matter as due to our complete lack of sleep from the previous night we bedded down and were asleep in minutes.
This state of affairs wasn’t to last as within a couple of hours the wind had managed to virtually destroy the tent. With the rain lashing down as well by now, we must have made the very epitome of a sorry sight.
We managed to huddle together under what was left of the canvas and with Radio 2 (yes, R2 – Radio 1 wasn’t 24/7 at this stage) for company, we managed to make it through to dawn when the cafe up the road would be open for us to grab a coffee and maybe some breakfast and certainly some warm air!
So, our camping trip was left figuratively and literally in tatters, so what next? Well, we had no chance of getting a lift back home as Dad was back at work, so we just had to get the train home. Of course, this just added to all the excitement and the prospects for tale-telling when we got home had just increased exponentially too.
So that was it, our decision was made, and as soon as the station was open we headed there to buy our tickets home. I noted the cost too, £6 for me as an adult in the eyes of British Rail (though not with respect to buying soft porn magazines!) compared to the £13.70 it cost in 2009 to travel from Borth to Shrewsbury.
Updates: as of July 2019, the cost of one-way travel, Borth to Shrewsbury was £21.10 without a railcard. In March 2023 it’s actually gone down to £18.50.
Friday 15 August 1986
By the time we’d got home – a journey offering very little change out of two hours – there wasn’t much to do except sleep.
Oh, and try and explain to our mate who’d lent us the tent.
Saturday 16 August 1986
Still catching up, so nothing to enter apart from the Charity Shield result between Liverpool and Everton from Wembley.
The score was 1-1 with Ian Rush getting the equaliser for Liverpool after Adrian Heath had put the Toffees ahead.
Monday 18 August 1986
Sunday 17 – Tuesday 19 August 1986
No entries due to
H O L I D A Y H O L I D A Y H O L I D A Y H O L I D A Y H O L I D A Y
being written across these days in my diary.
Wednesday 20 August 1986
“Nothing much happened today…”
Except for the fact that our mum, the consumer champion, took the tent back to Argos and managed to get a full refund for Milly.
Well done our mum!
Thursday21 August 1986
Two mentions of the word “boring”, one (sarcastic) mention of the word “exciting” and the words “Botham” and “comeback” in the same sentence.
Yes, after a 60-day ban for cannabis use – admitted during a newspaper interview – Beefy was back to face New Zealand at The Oval in the third test of a three-match series. His performance – 3 for 75 in the Kiwis’ first innings (including one with his first ball) followed by an unbeaten 59 in England’s first innings was in vain as the weather won the day with the match ultimately ending in a draw.
With a rain-affected first test drawn at Lord’s and an 8-wicket win in the second, at Trent Bridge, this meant that New Zealand won the three-match series 1-0.
Oh yeah, and I posted out some more letters to shops in town enquiring after a Saturday job. Don’t suppose that I would have sent more than 10 though, me being me.
Friday 22 August 1986
RESULTS CAME
Now I don’t want to boast, but I managed to score eight out of eight O Levels taken. I was pretty chuffed, given that I was one of the lazier students.
Whilst my O Level results were probably par, I know I should have done better in my A Levels. It’s often said that the jump from O Level (and GCSEs) to A Level is harder than the jump from A Level to degree level and I reckon I’m living proof of this.
I was bone idle, doing the very bare minimum and always at the last minute. So, natural talent got me my O Level grades. A Levels, though, would require better organisation and some hard work. Trouble is, I know it now, but had no inkling then. Kids at sixth form who did better in tests and ultimately in their exams, I dismissed as ‘swots’ and worse. The joke was very much on me.
For the record, my O Level marks were:
One A – Geography, six B’s – Maths; English Lang.; English Lit.; Physics; Chemistry and German, and a C in French.
So with all that out of the way, I was guaranteed to get into sixth form to do my chosen A Levels. Can you guess which was the one that I was to fail out of Pure Maths and Mechanics, Physics, Industrial Studies and General Studies?
Mum and Dad were off away for the weekend, so the sibs and I went to have tea at Granny and Grandad’s and then it was off to stay with our great aunt for the rest of the weekend.
Saturday 23 August 1986
The long, aching wait for it to start up again was all over.
Liverpool went with goals to Newcastle, left them there, and came away with the points with a 2-0 win, whilst Shrewsbury Town went to Sheffield to nick a point from the Blades. We experienced some more rain, and it was quite cold – in August! What was the world coming to? I dunno.
I also noted that England were nearly good at cricket. It was the third day of the test and England ended it on 281-3 against New Zealand’s 287 all out, so I suppose England were ‘nearly’ good. Of course, as I noted on the first day of the test, they ultimately drew the match and lost the series.
Shame about the weather.
Sunday 24 August 1986
Ah! One of the joys of childhood in Central/South Shropshire! Wimberrry picking on the “Stipperstones”.
Known the world over by the name Bilberries these purple berries, found on low-growing shrubs in the genus Vaccinium (family Ericaceae), are extremely easy to pick once you’ve walked far enough.
They taste fantastic in a short-crust pastry with custard! Apparently today I “picked a few less than a margarine tub (big one).”
Monday 25 August 1986
This one’s not much of an entry I am afraid as “IT RAINED VERY HARD TODAY!”
Tuesday 26 August 1986
Resigned mention of Sixth Form today.
Full entry, “So there is only one week until we go to college for library skills etc.”
And that was pretty much it.
Wednesday 27 August 1986
“Received a (rejection) letter from Pickering’s…”
Pickering’s was one of the shops to which I had written asking for a Saturday job. It was a fabulous toy shop on Mardol in Shrewsbury in which I had spent many an hour browsing as a child.
On that basis, I had thought it was a good idea to ask them for a Saturday job. In many respects, the rejection almost vindicated my attitude (i.e., half-hearted) towards my attempt to find a Saturday job.
See, I told you I couldn’t find a job and, on the basis that Pickering’s was one of the few shops that bothered to write and say ‘Thanks, but no thanks,’ that no one would even bother to reply anyway, let alone give me a job.
Thursday 28 August 1986
“Still no more letters.”
Bemoaning their bad manners… blah, blah, blah…
“Boring day.”
Friday 29 August 1986
I went to town today and “saw both Aarons.” Well, there you go.
I also bought myself some new shoes and trousers, the seven-inch single Thorn In My Side by the Eurythmics, AND a new computer game – Spellbound for the C64. The afternoon however was “crap” – why didn’t I play my new game or listen to my new record or… or… or both?
Good grief, I really despair at my sixteen-year-old self.
Saturday 30 August 1986
Saturday had arrived again, so I reported on a couple of football scores.
Liverpool beat Arsenal 2-1 at Anfield as Man Utd lost to Charlton at Old Trafford (‘Har, har.’) Shrewsbury Town lost and we went out for a family meal – which was “great.”
Sunday 31 August 1986
So, we came to the last day of August.
It was no different to any other day in August (“BORING!”) but at least we were able to watch the first part of Paul McGann’s portrayal of Percy Topliss, aka The Monocled Mutineer.
Written by Alan Bleasdale, author of Boys From the Blackstuff, the four-part series told the tale of Topliss’ involvement in the Étaples Mutiny in 1917 to his fatal shooting near Penrith in 1920. Whether Topliss was actually involved in the mutiny or not is a matter of debate, but that’s TV drama for you.
As part of my (ultimately futile) attempts to become a TV critic, my copy on this one was erudite in the extreme – “Man, just love the swearing!” Well, isn’t that nice?
Now for September and the start of the Academic Year.