The Sun Has Got His Hat On: A Trip to the Seaside
Many Britons choose to jet off to warmer climes on their holiday nowadays, but the good old seaside still holds a special place in the hearts of millions. Sure, you might be guaranteed better weather in Spain, Italy, or Greece, but there is still something very comforting about treating yourself to a bag of chips after a paddle and stroll along the Prom.
For us, a trip to the British seaside is full of childhood memories. Let’s take a look at some of the classic traditions and where they came from.
How the British came to love the seaside
The origins of the seaside holiday date back to the 18th Century when Doctor Richard Russell declared that the best thing for one’s health was a bracing dunk in the waters surrounding Britain, specifically at Brighton. As a result, the former fishing village grew into a playground for the wealthy and King George III became the resort’s most illustrious guest, even building the Royal Pavilion as his coastal pleasure palace.
Things changed with the advent of railway travel in the 1840s, enabling the working-class to take a break from the smoke and grime of the cities and get a taste of the good life too, even if it was just for a day trip. The boom continued in 1871 when the concept of Bank Holidays came into existence, giving people a little longer to enjoy their break.
The early days of air travel and foreign holidays at the beginning of the 20th Century took many of the wealthy off to more exotic destinations, largely leaving the seaside towns to the regular folk. As such, resorts such as Brighton, Blackpool, Clacton-on-Sea, Bognor Regis, and Skegness began tailoring their attractions to the average working family with penny arcades, dance halls, theatres, ice cream vendors, donkey rides, funfairs, and many other pursuits that we now associate with the good old British seaside.
Another change came in 1936 when Billy Butlin opened his first holiday camp in Skegness with the promise of giving everyone “A week’s holiday for a week’s pay.” By the mid-’60s, nine more camps had sprung up around the British coast along with sites established by rival Pontins. Along with them came all the classic entertainments such as Knobbly Knees and Glamorous Granny Contests, and the phenomenon was so successful that we even got a sitcom about it. Running from 1980 to 1988, Hi-de-Hi! followed the exploits of the team of Yellowcoats working at the fictional Maplins holiday camp – I had such a crush on Gladys when I was a kid!
The decline of the British seaside holiday began in the 1960s when the first budget flights took off to sunnier destinations, giving rise to the cheap package holiday. Much like the train lines that allowed Victorian-era working people a chance to experience the same good stuff as the toffs, millions of ordinary Brits could now afford to jet off to Spain and sample sun, sea, sex, and sangria for themselves.
There have been many, many articles and YouTube videos lamenting the current sad state of the British seaside, but this isn’t one of them. Sure, many classic seaside resorts have become rather rundown and forlorn nowadays, but they still evoke such a sense of fondness and nostalgia for so many of us.
Fish and Chips
While fish and chips has encountered competition from Chicken Tikka Masala in recent decades, it is still considered Britain’s traditional national dish. We’ve been harvesting the chilly waters surrounding our islands for many centuries, but fried fish first became a thing back in the 1700s when Jewish immigrants introduced the practice of dipping pieces of fish in batter before frying in oil.
Fried potatoes in the British Isles go back even further to the 16th Century, and the first known recipe for what we would call chips nowadays appeared in a cookbook in 1817. Perhaps someone thought of eating the classic combo before this, but fish and chip shops only emerged in the 1860s. There is some dispute about which was the original. Some sources cite Joseph Malin’s London establishment serving “fried fish in the Jewish fashion” around 1860, while Northerners claim that the first chippy was opened in Tommyfield Market in Oldham around the same time.
The invention of the steam-powered trawler in the 1870s resulted in a fish-and-chip boom, and it grew to become such an integral part of British life that the economical dish escaped rationing during the two World Wars. Like most things we associate with the seaside, fish and chips migrated from the cities to the coast along with working-class holidaymakers and became the staple cheap and tasty treat.
Fish and chips have declined in popularity since their heyday in the 1930s when there were an estimated 35,000 chippies around Britain, partly due to rising costs and competition from newer fast food options like burgers, pizza, kebabs, and curry. Nevertheless, there are still over 10,000 chip shops and Brits eat around 382 million portions of the national dish each year.
What is your order? I always go for a big lump of battered cod, chips lashed with salt and vinegar, a pickled egg, and a side of mushy peas. If I’m honest, some of the best chippies I’ve encountered have been inland, but nothing beats the experience of perching on a sea wall fending off seagulls while trying to feed yourself with one of those little wooden chip forks!
The Pier
Of all the iconic British seaside attractions, I always loved visiting the pier when I was a kid. Not only were they a hot spot for penny arcades, chippies, and candy floss stands, the slightly forlorn decadence of them always captured my imagination. By the mid-1980s, many were in a pretty sad state of repair, but these reminders of the Victorian era still carried themselves with the air of dignity thanks to their wrought ironwork, timber decking, and grand old pavilions.
Piers became increasingly common in the mid-19th Century as resort towns increased in popularity, growing longer, more ornate, and adding ever-more exciting attractions. Initially they weren’t just a product of Victorian ostentation; they had a very practical purpose, too. Still conscious about the health benefits of sea air, piers allowed visitors to promenade by the water even as the tide receded. They also allowed holidaymakers access to passenger ferries that would often need to moor away from the shallows.
By 1900, over 100 pleasure piers struck out from the British coastline, mostly in England and Wales due to their warmer summers. Some stretched far out to sea, such as the world’s longest at Southend-on-Sea. Extending over a mile into the Thames Estuary, a steam locomotive nicknamed “the train to nowhere” ran along its length, replaced by an electric version in 2022.
The popularity of piers declined in the post-war years. Many had been destroyed during the Second World War to avert their use in an invasion, while Southend pier was fortified by the Royal Navy to help thwart the Luftwaffe. It suffered a string of disastrous blazes in subsequent years, a fate that befell many other piers around the country. In one of the most dramatic instances, 500 people were rescued by boat after a fire broke out in the pavilion and cut them off from safety.
Only around half of Britain’s piers still survive, but they remain firmly in our affections and the National Piers Society was founded in 1979 to celebrate and preserve these proud relics. Cromer won Pier of the Year in 2024 – which will claim the crown this year?
A Stick of Rock
Stalls filled with brightly-coloured sticks of rock are still a feature of many British seaside towns today. Wrapped in cellophane and usually containing a little photo of the resort, traditional flavours include Spearmint (the pink one, my favourite), fruit, and more modern novelties such as Chicken Tikka, Garlic Bread, and even Marmite.
The traditional stick of rock has its origins in sugary treats sold at fairgrounds across the country in the 19th Century. It took the form we now know thanks to Ben Bullock of Burnley, a former miner who conceived the idea of producing brightly-coloured lettered versions after a trip to Blackpool. He produced his first batch in 1887 with the words “Blackpool rock” running through the middle. It quickly took off and has been a favourite seaside sweet ever since.
The lettering through the middle always amazed me as a kid and it takes a great deal of skill to achieve. Although a large part of the rock-making process is mechanised, producing the letters is still mostly done by hand by craftspeople who typically take up to 10 years to get the technique down cold. It’s a fascinating process (you can see how it’s done here), but the trick is to make one large roll about the size of an elephant’s leg before stretching it out into long strands that are cut into individual sticks.
Saucy Postcards
It is easy to forget that before mobile phones, email, and social media, a friend or family member going on holiday was essentially out of your life for a week or two. On the rare occasions my grandmothers went to the seaside without us, usually just a few miles away on the Suffolk coast, they might as well have been on an expedition to Antarctica for all the contact we had with them. Then one morning we’d come downstairs to find a long-awaited postcard sitting on the doormat, with a few brief words describing the hotel and the weather on the back.
Postcards rose to prominence in the Victorian era of the seaside holiday. They first appeared in Britain in 1870, literally a piece of card that could be sent to friends and loved ones for half the cost of posting a letter. Picture postcards arrived in 1894 and took on their familiar form in 1902, with the back divided into two halves for your message on one side and the address of the recipient on the other.
Not long after came a very British phenomenon: The saucy postcard. You don’t see them around very often these days, but I remember sneaking a peak when they were still a fixture of spinner stands along the prom in the 1980s. Fat-bottomed ladies, wimpy hen-pecked husbands, screaming kids, pie-eyed drunkards, amorous honeymooners, busty beauties, and flustered horny workmen were the norm, usually caught in an embarrassing situation and capped off with a double-entendre punchline.
The format was the innovation of Donald McGill, a former Naval draughtsman who became known as the King of the Saucy Postcard. Over a career spanning almost 60 years, McGill created around 12,000 designs and shifted around 200 million postcards. His originals were fairly innocent but they got steadily more lewd over the years, even though it is all very Carry On by modern standards.
Not everyone saw things that way and the country’s moral guardians sought to curb the smutty material, with over 30,000 postcards seized by police under the Obscene Publications Act in 1953. McGill himself was targeted the following year, found guilty of obscenity and hit with a fine. Things changed in 1957 when changes to British obscenity laws relaxed censorship and the saucy postcard could flourish once more.
McGill passed away in 1962 and by the late ‘60s his work had become eminently collectible; an auction held at Sotheby’s in 1967 was attended by the daughter of President Lyndon B. Johnson.
99 Ice Cream
If you’re of a certain age, the 99 ice cream is synonymous with a day at the seaside. A generous swirl of soft vanilla ice cream in a cheap cone with a chocolate flake stuck in the top, melting down your hand in the sun or full of sand on windy days on the beach. Whatever the weather, the cone itself would usually turn into a soggy mess by the time you got around to eating it!
Many people assume that the name has something to do with the original price. While back in the ‘80s and ‘90s the popular combo was indeed sold for 99p, the iconic number traces its roots back to the 1920s. Back then, 99p would be about £50 in today’s money!
Instead, the treat derived its name from Italian immigrants who opened ice cream parlours in the north of England between the wars. Incorporating Cadbury’s flake as a topping, they named it the 99 in honour of the Italian royal guard of 99 soldiers.
Another popular origin story is that the 99 Ice Cream was invented in Scotland. Cadbury, whose launch of the iconic Flake chocolate bar in 1920 made it all possible, admit that the true origin is probably lost in the mists of time. Nevertheless, the 99 became so popular by 1930 that the manufacturer started producing half-sized Flakes especially for ice cream vendors to use without snapping them in two.
Punch & Judy
One seaside tradition I never could stand was Punch & Judy. I just found it all a bit too creepy and sinister even when I was little. I was probably in the minority, however, because the antics of Mr. Punch, his wife Judy, and their cast of colourful side characters have been a fixture of public entertainment for almost 350 years.
Punch originated in Italy in the 17th Century, then a derivation of the Neapolitan character Pulcinella. When he came to our shores, the name became anglicised to Punchinello and then later Mr. Punch. He made his first recorded public appearance in 1662 and retained many of his original characteristics (the hunchback, crooked nose, and ruddy cheeks) through the centuries, although the puppet itself evolved from a marionette to a hand puppet.
The anarchic and often violent exploits of Mr. Punch were quickly taken to the hearts of the working-class people, who came to see him as a subversive anti-authoritarian figure who often crudely satirised events of the day. Originally, Punch & Judy shows were mostly found in cities and considered adult entertainment, with around 400 punch men operating in London in the Victorian era. But then along came the trains and Punch followed the crowds out to the seaside where his candy-striped stall found a new home on beaches, piers, and promenades.
Reflecting earlier times, much of the comedy involved domestic abuse and even murder, with Punch wielding his famous slapstick – the origin of the term we now associate with knockabout humour. Punch’s distinctive voice was created by the puppeteer speaking through a kazoo, which resulted in Punch’s wife changing her name from Joan to Judy as the latter was easier to pronounce with the mouth instrument.
Over time, various catchphrases such as “That’s the way to do it!” developed and the target audience moved towards children. In more politically-correct times, the violent and abusive content has been toned down somewhat but the basic storylines have remained the same, with Mr. Punch dispatching his opponents and lording over all with his triumphant cackle.
Kiss Me Quick Hats
Long before young Brits headed off abroad to places like “Shagaluf” in the hope of getting their leg over, holidaymakers in English seaside resorts also had the prospect of quick flings on their mind as they strolled along the promenades. Thus was born the tradition of “Kiss Me Quick” in the late 19th Century with the phrase emblazoned on the front of cheap novelty hats. Completists can go for the full version: “Kiss me quick, squeeze me slow.”
Although it is hard to imagine anything more English than sitting on a beach wearing such a hat (apart from maybe using a knotted hanky instead), it is likely that the phrase may have come across the pond from America. A letter published in the New York Magazine in 1795 referred to a country dance called “Kiss Me Quick My Mother’s Coming”, and the Dictionary of Americanisms in 1848 referred to a kiss-me-quick as a type of woman’s bonnet that didn’t extend past the face – presumably because that made it easier for her to sneak in a crafty snog.
Deckchairs
Photographer Martin Barr has become our foremost chronicler of the British seaside. During the 80s and ‘90s, he turned his ironic but nostalgic lens on the packed beaches and promenades with their chip-scavenging seagulls and grimly determined tourists trying to make the most of it no matter how crowded the beaches or how bad the weather. One of the most common props that appear time after time in his photos is the deckchair, usually occupied by a slumbering pensioner.
Examples of folding chairs date back to the Bronze Age, but the deckchair as we know it originated in 1886 when a Macclesfield businessman called John Moore patented his design consisting of two rectangular wooden frames hinged together with a strip of canvas slung between. Around the same time, similar chairs called the “Yankee Hammock Chair” were cropping up in the United States and advertised as suitable not only for the beach, but for camping, on the lawn, and ship’s decks.
The latter caught on and they became known as deck chairs, to the extent that P&O cruise liners encouraged passengers to bring their own along for long voyages. Indeed, we still have the phrase “Like rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic” and there were around 600 luxury versions on the doomed White Star ship – one of the seven surviving examples sold for $67,375 (£52,276) in 2012.
Meanwhile, deck chairs became a symbol of the seaside holiday around the coast of Britain, available for rent by the hour or by the day. The beloved foldable chair declined along with the resorts and even came under attack from local councils; in 2004, Blackpool’s Tourism Forum called for a ban along the promenade in favour of promoting a more “continental” image and besmirching the humble deckchair as a relic of the “cloth cap” era.
Video Arcades
One thing guaranteed to make me sound like an old fart is a visit to a modern-day “Family Entertainment Centre,” or what we used to know as video or penny arcades. Brightly lit and filled with machines costing £1 or £2 a pop, players are rewarded for 30 seconds of game time with tickets they can trade for worthless tat. They are a far cry from the somewhat scummy environments I loved in the ‘80s and ‘90s.
My great-grandmother called them “Thunder Rooms.” That must have been how they seemed to an old lady born at the beginning of the 20th Century: Dark spaces filled with flashing lights, crackles of electricity, and rumbling with primitive sound effects and tinny 8-bit jingles. I can still feel and smell those places with their rows of cabinets pulsing with light and chewing-gum pimpled floors, reeking of cigarette smoke, hot carpet, and overloaded power sockets.
Everything was a bit battered and a bit sticky, but it was the glory days when you could stick 10p in the slot and play for minutes on end if you were good enough. I landed right in the sweet spot between the really old-school classics like Space Invaders, Donkey Kong, and Pac-Man and more graphically-advanced games like Dragon Ninja and Vendetta. The former were all brutally hard, but I even got to the end of the latter two!
In the back of some arcades like Mannings in Felixstowe (entertaining visitors since 1933) you could find dusty old relics of an earlier era. Some were vintage vertical wooden cabinets where you put a penny in and fired a steel ball around a series of obstacles. If you won, a handful of pennies would drop into the reward slot. These were games of skill designed to skirt gambling laws in the early days of the penny arcade, which, as you might guess by now, sprang up in the late 19th Century at seaside resorts.
Tracing their roots back to games of skill and chance at medieval fairs in the countryside, the arcade’s assortment of entertainments evolved into automated fortune tellers, punch bags, peep shows, and ring-toss machines. These rudimentary “gaff shops” grew in stature into large fun palaces like Barron’s Paradium (opened 1902) in Great Yarmouth and Wheeler’s Wonderland in New Brighton in 1906. Arthur Burrows’ Sports Arcade in Brighton thrived on new-fangled one-armed bandits and coin-operated machines boomed from the 1930s through to the 1950s.
The 1960s and 1970s were the beginning of the golden era of the penny arcade, even as the resorts around them began their decline. Classic pavilions, dance halls, and theatres were converted and installed with the latest automated attractions. These arcades were cheap to run because all you needed was a cashier and an engineer to keep the machines working. Penny falls, horse racing machines, crane grabbers, and pinball machines were all hugely popular during this period, but even they would soon look archaic with the advent of video games.
From the late ‘70s to the early ‘90s, arcades were the only place where most people could play the latest video games. These Thunder Rooms had a profound impact on many kids who grew up during this time – myself included. But even that beautiful era was on its way out even as it began: Atari launched its 2600 home gaming console in 1977; Nintendo released the NES in 1983; and Sega unveiled the Megadrive in 1989. Still better and cheaper consoles with greater graphical power would arrive in the early ‘90s, and many people didn’t need the arcades to play video games by the turn of the century.
There are still video games in seaside resorts but the emphasis of modern Family Entertainment Centers has, paradoxically, returned to the earlier days of the penny arcade. Sure, the graphics and sound effects might be flashy and you’ll still see familiar faces like Mario and Sonic, but it is more about physical experiences like ride-on machines and newer versions of skill games like hoop tosses, grabbers, and basketball games — stuff you can’t do at home on your Xbox or Playstation.
You’d be hard pressed to find a row of cabinets anymore, and you know what? That’s just fine. I’m not the target audience and my 9-year-old niece enjoyed herself immensely at the sparkly new FEC at Felixstowe pier on our last visit. Not only that, she was absolutely thrilled with the pot of slime she walked away with from about thirty quid’s worth of tickets.
So there you have it, our fond look back at the good old British seaside holiday. If that has brought back memories for you, why not take a look at our wonderful vintage style travel posters, designed to take you back to your favourite places.
