If I'd Known Then What I Know Now...

A Memory of Hunstanton.

I've picked the year '67 but I honestly don't rememer, it was '67 or '68, possibly even '69. Anyway, my friends and I used to frequent the ground floor disco in The Glebe every weekend. It was the highlight of my week and I really looked forward to it, especially as I was going out with a wonderful young man at the time and we would meet up there. I don't think I ever recovered when we 'finished' but I was pressured by my parents at the time who were clearly very unhappy by the whole business. I couldn't understand what the problem was and became a very sullen unhappy teenager. I thought he was wonderful and by far the best 'date' I'd had up to then. Imagine my horror then, on discovering many years later, that The Glebe was a house of ill repute! No wonder my parents weren't very happy, goodness only knows what they imagined we got up to whilst there, even though it was nothing more than dancing all night until it was time for the last bus home.

My, how I've laughed about it since. Talk about naive. And no wonder my parents weren't happy. Though I think giving up my lovely boyfriend was a sacrifice too far and didn't stop me going, I just became rebellious and didn't tell them after that.

It probably wasn't very pleasant for those neighbouring the property and I've since learned that it was demolished some time ago, but glossing over the seedy side of The Glebe, I can honestly say that dancing the night away in blissful ignorance (without any drugs) were some of the happiest times of my misspent youth. And goodness knows, apart from the KitKat and occasional dance elsewhere, there was nowhere else to go to spend the night dancing, which was all we were interested in back then. Dancing and a bag of freshly made donuts or chips whilst waiting for the bus home. Ah, happy days.