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"This all happened sometime in the early Nineteen-fifties. Sadly, I have never been able to locate even one of my fellow campers." - Allen Ansell

On a cold morning
Many moons ago,
I stood with trembling heart,
Hand in Hand with Granny.
‘Are you excited?’ She asked.
I smiled with lies in my eyes
A masque of innocence
On every pore and cranny.

Grandpa pressed a large coin
Into my free hand palm,
And gently secured it tight –
Folding my fingers over.
My divining sense knew it;
Knew where it came from,
What it was – a half-crown.
I could see him open the till
And select the shiniest coin
To give me security and Strength.

I needed those two shields,
And I felt them too
As my left foot, risen,
Secured the bus’s first step.
The weight of my new rucksack
Pulling to reverse my climb –
‘A small step for mankind’
Had not then been spoken,
But still, I took a giant leap –
Toward the camping trip from hell…

Hollywell Bay, here we come!

© Allen Ansell 2023