So much of that rings true for me, spent most of my early years in and around South London, Gypsy Hill, Sutton, Anerley(near Crystal Palace) when aunts visited would go to Croydon, quite an event going to posh shops, just looking though, it was safe then. School (junior) was a walk then later (senior) a bus ride, always a white driver, sometimes a black conductor with an accent and a big smile, hanging off the pole at the the back and jumping off before the bus stopped was fun, I was fascinated by the ticket machine he proudly wore and operated. Early school holidays were spent with Mum at her work as a cleaner at the convent, later with Dad as a plasterers labourer aged about 11-12. None of this skiing in the Alps for me.
Bomb sites we called them, I doubt they actually were, more like houses being cleared for an estate of council houses, in various states of demolition but they were our playgrounds and great fun, today they would have barriers or fences and keep out/danger signs. Penny for the guy, fond memories of us dragging around a guy made from old clothes stuffed with newspaper on a go cart (home made, of course) and people gave us coins which we would then buy fireworks with and play with, holding bangers at arms length etc. At some point an uncle gave me a bike, I was told "be careful on that, or you could end up under a bus", that was the H&S talk over with and I survived to tell the tale.
Despite the picture painted, we all respected our elders and the local bobby.
)
You're a strange lot from west Yorkshire.
