Sizewell Holiday.

A Memory of Sizewell.

As a kid I spent a couple of August weeks in Sizewell, staying in a timber-built bungalow just before the rise leading up to what is now the Power Station. The little bungalow was set back off the (dirt) road, and had no running water -  we went to a pump for water - and no electricm and my mum cooked on a paraffin stove. The bungalow was owned by my uncle, Ted Titlow, who had a newsagent's and hardware business in nearby Leiston. I believe this business is still in the family. Between bungalow and beach a pair of brothers, Fryer, kept a number of old motor cars which were just rotting away in the elements. These motors were generally vintage 1920 and, bless the Friars, they never minded us kids climbing over them and having a whale of a time. The sun always shone, and we often ate shrimps caught locally by Sid Booty who boiled them in his hut on the beach - we bought them by the pint!

Geese used to roam freely, quite a gaggle, and these belonged to a Mr Taylor who lived in the rather large house on the corner. Going north from the hamlet to the top of the small rise there was an imposing house in which lived Mrs Gunthorpe who rode around very upright on a sit-up-and-beg bike. The house is long gone (due to the nuclear power station) and I remember my father complaining that they had built it over the finest blackberries in all England!

I had a wonderful time there, with absolute freedom. I played with children who lived in the first coastguard cottage and we roamed the beach, the sand dunes and the common. We also spent many hours outside The Vulcan (Bert Allom?) eating Smith's crisps and supping Vimto whilst my dad had a drop of Adnam's, he has passed on his taste to me!
Mike Rutty, Somerset.