There is a wonderful feeling of eternal space at the seaside.

Soon, I found myself drifting off into a reverie about growing up here during the 1970s.

I remember as if it were yesterday the three-day weeks, miners' strikes and endless homework.

Slade were in the charts, with their legendary stomping songs, we wore flares that stuck to our ankles when it poured down and perilous, multi-coloured platform shoes were all the rage.

We teamed these up with glittery pop-sox which stopped the circulation just under our knees.

The younger kids whizzed about on their chopper bikes and orange space-hoppers.

I recall the delight of eating Marmite sandwiches with pickled onions in other people's houses, because my mother didn't like pickled onions and we never had any at home.

Later on in the decade, being teenagers by then, we snuck out for clandestine meetings with boyfriends who sported soppy, Mexican bandit moustaches.

But, best of all, were the days we spent lazing about on Shoreham Beach.

How reassuring to see that the coast has changed little with the passing years.

Mrs Jill Cowles
Freehold Street
Shoreham

NOTE: All letters must include a name and address which can be withheld by request.

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