The Perfect Holiday

In the late 1950s we had a couple of holidays in Bracklesham bay, which was then a tiny, but growing village. I had never seen shops which were the equivalent of wooden shacks mounted on bricks. There were some modern bits; the post office/newsagent had recently opened, and new shops were being completed across the street. My Uncle George ran one of Henleys(?) shops; the one with the hardware and souvenirs, with racks of li-los displyed outside. I think the other was a grocer's. There was a cafe run by a man called Ruby! I was astounded, but I think his name was Ruben. Uncle lived in Garden Avenue. I came from the coaly north east and this village was the most amazing place I had ever seen. They say you should never go back, and Bracklesham is now just a housing estate for Chichester, but the memories will live with me forever.