Piddinghoe memories
Here are memories of Piddinghoe and the local area. You can start now: Add your own Memory of Piddinghoe or a Piddinghoe photo.
Summer Holidays in Piddinghoe
I have very fond memories of my holidays in Piddinghoe, spent at my Aunty Rene's home which stood on the bank of the River Ouse. I loved walking into the village to buy cream soda pop from Mr Caplin's shop. He would call me & my little sister "his little Welsh friends" as that's where we travelled from to visit our family. Our walks along the river with the dog. Piddinghoe holds a special place in my heart.
Memories of East Sussex
Mackerel Fishing
Many's the time we wandered along the edge of the harbour and up and down the landing stages, studying the leathery faced fishermen's busy hands as they worked on the nets, or repaired lobster pots. We'd peep around, what seemed huge metal doors and gates clad in rusting wire mesh, to get a glimpse of the boat yards beyond, and if we'd enough in our pocket for a cup of tea, we stop at the cafe that looked across the harbour, and out towards the bridge on the left. The owners always had time for us, and if they had any stale bread and cake, they'd let us have it to feed the swans that swam among the boats just a few steps from their entrance, though needless to say, the swans only got what was left after we'd picked out all the edible bits.
It was from Newhaven that I had my first fishing trip. A family friend took us out in his small fishing boat, and the... Read more
Watch House Duties
It must have been in the late 1960s, I was on duty in the old watch house and, as was my habit, I was hooking out whiting out of the Harbour. Fish that at the time had no commercial value at market, and the fishermen threw them back in. I was so engrossed in my angling when a voice behind said "What's all this then, what are you up to?". I turned and there was a policeman standing there, so I replied, "Fishing!". He thought I was being evasive, so I casually hooked a fish out and he was convinced. It really looked suspicious, as I was using a long handled broom and catching the fish on the broom head and flicking them ashore. Andy Relf was the policeman and we remained friends for a very long time, unfortunately we are no longer in touch, but if he happens to read this, perhaps it will make him smile as it does me.
Mum With Kids
The lady in the foreground looks very like my mum with me walking to her left and my sister in the pushchair. We lived locally and went to the beach all the time. It would be interesting to see that part enlarged so I could identify them. My favourite memory of that time was the excitement we felt on arrival and smelling the familiar smell of seaweed draped all the way up the concrete steps leading on to the sand, and the lovely feel of sand under your feet as you padded down them.
Bowles Caravan Site
I believe this is the caravan site that was, and may still be, situated on Mr and Mrs Bowles farm. (Not sure of the spelling of Bowles.) My mum and the five of us children spent many happy holidays here. The van that we stayed in was called 'Hartings' and was on the track that led to the farm. It had no mains connected to it. I don't know how we all squeezed in, but I do remember a double bed that folded out of the wall. The high spot of the day was the visit to the little camp shop, where if we were lucky mum would give us a few pence for an icecream.
My mum had fond memories of the place, as she was born in Newhaven, and her parents lived at 27 Second Avenue until grandads death in about 1968. Her mum had been a primary school teacher, and her father worked as a steam engine driver, and later,... Read more
The Horse Shoe Bite
The small sandy beach at Newhaven was known as the horse shoe bite. It was completely covered at high tide, but as the water receded, it exposed fine golden sand, ideal for making castles and getting in your sandwiches. A row of barnacle-peppered rocks along the breakwater wall also got revealed with the falling tide, where a myriad of crabs hid amongst the clinging seaweed and a wonderland of rockpools formed, waiting to be explored.
In the distance on the left of the photo you can just see the beginning of the breakwater, it's on the right of the harbour as you look at the sea. It was a good walk to the end, where generally in good weather there'd be a gaggle of fishermen dangling their lines. One half of the breakwater, as you proceeded seawards, was sheltered from the west by a high wall, inside of which was a sheltered promenade, fronted by arched openings that ran its entire length. In fine weather we would race along... Read more
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