Tell the young people of that today and they won't believe you!
SUMMER
(MontyPython)
It is amazing when we look back to our childhood memories, how hot and sunny the summers were, school finished for six weeks and we were off on an adventure every day with our mates.
I lived in Henleaze which skirted the Durham Downs - a vast adventure playground of grass, trees, woods and the Avon Gorge. The Gorge was by far our favourite and most exciting place, rising more than 250 feet above the Avon. With caves and woods it was to young school boys "our Everest" which had to be conquered. We spent the summers between the ages of 9 to13 hurtling there on our bikes, clambering over the gorge like mountain goats, devoid of safety harnesses and ropes, just "bear" hands. Legend had it in those days that the Gorge had been carved out by two giants, Vincent and Goram, and up until recent times a funfair was held in the grounds of Blaise Castle known as Goram fair.
During one particular summer a group of us while climbing the Gorge found a cave almost half way up the wall of sheer rock above the tennis courts. The cave was really shallow but full of sand which must have been there since Bristol was covered by a tropical sea many millions of years ago so we lads thought it would be an excellent idea to dig it out during the summer. Every day when we were free the group would assemble at the foot of the Gorge, climb to the cave and commence digging. I suppose these days we would have sieved every grain of sand looking for fossils but we just wanted to see how far we could go. Excavation continued for (what seemed weeks) and during this time we had travelled almost 100 to 150 feet into the cave turning corners and excited about how deep into the rock we could go, until!
One morning we returned and on entering the cave found the entire roof had collapsed and the cave was completely full of sand, almost as we had originally found it! Our disappointment was massive until one of the guys pointed out that we could all have been buried alive under tons of sand. The realization of the fact that we had escaped the jaws of death made us all feel very excited and thankful that we were not there at the time of the collapse. The thought of digging it all out again seemed like a chore and since we did enough of those at home we reluctantly abandoned the cave.
The next adventure took us just down the road to the tunnel which ran from Clifton Down station to the end of the Gorge. The maintenance entrance, which is still there today, was a large cave with a heavy grill which can still be seen from the Portway. One of the grills was bent which enabled us to squeeze through and about ten yards further on was the opening to the single railway track. The tunnel must be nearly a mile long and the feat we set ourselves was to walk the full length and not get caught by workmen or run down by a train. In those days, we are talking about steam trains, so when the end of the tunnel went black you knew that a train was approaching. Since the tunnel was very narrow when the train was almost upon you the only thing to do was to flatten yourself to the ground and wait while this trembling, steaming monster rushed past and when passed we would emerge coughing, spluttering, covered in "smuts" all congratulating ourselves and laughing at how brave we were! These summers continued on a similar vein until suddenly our thoughts turned to different pursuits, e.g. the charms of the fairer sex. The cost of all these fabulous times and memories, a big fat ZERO!
Logon to Activ Bristol for more fascinating articles about Bristol.
(MontyPython) It is amazing when we look back to our childhood memories, how hot and sunny the summers were, school finished for six weeks and we were off on an adventure every day with our mates.
I lived in Henleaze which skirted the Durham Downs - a vast adventure playground of grass, trees, woods and the Avon Gorge. The Gorge was by far our favourite and most exciting place, rising more than 250 feet above the Avon. With caves and woods it was to young school boys "our Everest" which had to be conquered. We spent the summers between the ages of 9 to13 hurtling there on our bikes, clambering over the gorge like mountain goats, devoid of safety harnesses and ropes, just "bear" hands. Legend had it in those days that the Gorge had been carved out by two giants, Vincent and Goram, and up until recent times a funfair was held in the grounds of Blaise Castle known as Goram fair.
During one particular summer a group of us while climbing the Gorge found a cave almost half way up the wall of sheer rock above the tennis courts. The cave was really shallow but full of sand which must have been there since Bristol was covered by a tropical sea many millions of years ago so we lads thought it would be an excellent idea to dig it out during the summer. Every day when we were free the group would assemble at the foot of the Gorge, climb to the cave and commence digging. I suppose these days we would have sieved every grain of sand looking for fossils but we just wanted to see how far we could go. Excavation continued for (what seemed weeks) and during this time we had travelled almost 100 to 150 feet into the cave turning corners and excited about how deep into the rock we could go, until!
One morning we returned and on entering the cave found the entire roof had collapsed and the cave was completely full of sand, almost as we had originally found it! Our disappointment was massive until one of the guys pointed out that we could all have been buried alive under tons of sand. The realization of the fact that we had escaped the jaws of death made us all feel very excited and thankful that we were not there at the time of the collapse. The thought of digging it all out again seemed like a chore and since we did enough of those at home we reluctantly abandoned the cave.
The next adventure took us just down the road to the tunnel which ran from Clifton Down station to the end of the Gorge. The maintenance entrance, which is still there today, was a large cave with a heavy grill which can still be seen from the Portway. One of the grills was bent which enabled us to squeeze through and about ten yards further on was the opening to the single railway track. The tunnel must be nearly a mile long and the feat we set ourselves was to walk the full length and not get caught by workmen or run down by a train. In those days, we are talking about steam trains, so when the end of the tunnel went black you knew that a train was approaching. Since the tunnel was very narrow when the train was almost upon you the only thing to do was to flatten yourself to the ground and wait while this trembling, steaming monster rushed past and when passed we would emerge coughing, spluttering, covered in "smuts" all congratulating ourselves and laughing at how brave we were! These summers continued on a similar vein until suddenly our thoughts turned to different pursuits, e.g. the charms of the fairer sex. The cost of all these fabulous times and memories, a big fat ZERO!
Logon to Activ Bristol for more fascinating articles about Bristol.
