Childhood Days 1954 On

A Memory of Perranporth.

Is the pile of sand the remains or the beginning of the Toc-H altar we used to, as children, help build on the beach for sunday service with Toc-H?
When the beach huts blew down and we skipped school to help clear up, collecting empty bottles to take back to Mr James at the cafe.
Digging holes and covering them with a towel and dry sand waiting for folk to fall in.
Helping Jack Polkinghorne with the beach ponies.
Catching moorhens by the stream.
Picking up glass fishing floats and taking them to St Agnes for the seal man to put in nets and sell to the visitors.
Riding our ponies at a flat out gallop from one end of the beach to the other, no retrictions in those days.
Those were the days when the winter swim was done without wetsuits.
Saturday pasties sitting on flat rock.
Our primitive surf boards.
Good days, great childhood.