A treasured family memory. A Sunday stroll along the seafront Promenade from Blackpool to the village of Bispham only a couple of miles. Still today if the conditions are right I’m transported back in my mind, that’s the beauty of a peak experience recall.
The Bispham walk
Bunk reclined, reading, content in a caravan cocoon,
then the dreaded words ‘a walk on the sea front soon’.
I mention it’s Sunday, church and a communion wafer
but wily Dad calls my bluff so ‘to Bispham’ seems safer
given my relationship with God.
So off set the Smiths along with Nana and Uncle Pete
she with an ice cream, he soon a martyr to sore feet.
Mum on a route march, head busy planning our meals
while we kids hang back at the rear dragging our heels
and the sunshine breaks through.
I know now why we’re here, everyone walking along,
salty sea air, the bracing chill, Pete bursts into song
nodding ‘Ow do’s’ and ‘mornin’s’ to all those we pass.
What use man’s church compared to this, nature’s Mass
as on with smiles and sun we plod.
And then it’s over and we’re stood queuing for a tram
Dad, ever the Gent helps a lady with baby and pram,
then back to the caravan, fish & chip stop on the way,
while Pete sings yet again ‘On the road to Mandalay’
and the rain blows in as if on cue.