Our hut overlooked the beach from the top of a cliff, so this photo may well have been taken from near where we stayed |
Memories. It must've (don't you just hate ignorant people who write or say 'must of'?) been in the Summer of 1966 that my family holidayed in Kinghorn. We stayed in what can only be described as a hut, though not of the common or garden shed variety. No, it was a holiday hut, which accommodated all the mod-cons of the age. It belonged to my paternal grandmother, and I remember a small stone grey bust of Churchill (not the dog) sitting atop a dressing table in the bedroom. I don't know for how long she'd owned this hut, or exactly when she relinquished ownership of it, but the last time I remember being in her ground floor flat back home was in January of 1973, and I recall being surprised to see that same small grey bust of Churchill there. It had only been 7 years since I'd first and last laid eyes on it, but as I'd not long turned 14, that was half my life away and seemed an inordinately long time ago.
The one I bought on holiday was blue, with grey legs. The arms were either red or grey, can't quite remember |
Could this have been the very comic I looked through? Who can say for sure? |
One more thing before you return to your lives in search of real adventure. I stubbed one of my small toes getting out of bed to go to the toilet one night, and I've had a problem with the nail on that toe to this day. Nothing major, but it just doesn't seem to grow the same as the one on the other foot. Every time I'm cutting my toenails, when I get to that one, I invariably think of Kinghorn again. As far as I know, I was only ever there once, so it's kind of funny how I've never quite forgotten the place (or that bust of Winston).
Not the same bust, but similar |
Any holidays you remember with fondness to the present day? Then don't be selfish - share your memories with the rest of us.
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