Summer Holidays

A Memory of Hastings.

The sun always seemed to shine on our annual summer holiday to my grandmother's at Emmanuel Road. What excitement running down West hill to the town and the beach. There was always a ride on the boating lake, you could smell the petrol fumes from the little boats and a trip on the train! Money begged for continual "goes" on the laughing policeman machine and, of course, icecreams from Demarco (do not know how it was spelt).
There were endless tales about The Caves where my grandmother and her sisters would shelter overnight from the bombing raids during the war.
They were happy days!