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- Memories of life on The Island as a boy in the late 40's to 50's
Memories of life on The Island as a boy in the late 40's to 50's
By Ken Pearson
There are many happy memories I retain of Island life as a boy in the late 1940s and early 1950s. While my father and his family were Binstead, born and bred, my mother had come from London. This had meant a childhood divided between the two. The hustle of a great city which could be contrasted with the fresh air of the countryside in the days before Binstead lost its village status and became a suburb of Ryde. I remember the old house on Binstead Hill which had been in our family for many years and has only been relinquished recently. The wonder for the children of digging for treasure at the bottom of the garden where often, loosely buried in the earth, were pieces of pottery we thought were relics from a great historic age in which the village had played a prominent part before being 'sacked' by vandals from afar. In reality it seems likely that the older folk had interred these items to keep us kids amused and interested. I still recall the evening walks to Binstead shore, the bonfires lit on chilly nights, the scent of seaweed and the prominence of winkles on the rocks just along the coast at Players. Then there was the walk up the hill near the golf course towards a well-earned rest on the bench by the huge tree at the top near the church. Almost too much it seemed at times for a nine-year-old.
They were magic days with the family still in the prime of their lives. A trip to Seaview - where I now live after dwelling in many different places off the Island - was something of a major excursion in those days before the motor car had attached itself to so many families. The bus conductor's arm would so often be thrust out from the platform of the bus at lines of would-be passengers at the bottom of Binstead Hill. 'Only one on', he would advise. Yet another wait for so many. The little single-decker known locally as the Binstead Only, which turned around at Barton's Corner, was considered our main hope for transport to Ryde. Reminiscences of this time wouldn't be complete without a reference to the 'Neptune Man' who came down the Hill once a week with splendid soft drinks which were left outside our homes when the previous week's empty bottles were collected. Great fun for a kid who was just developing an unhealthy liking for cream soda!