Do you remember Sunday drives?

A favourite afternoon out was to a place where there was a stream by the side of the road where we could paddle and make dams and flat land where the picnics were laid out. The road did a sharp hairpin bend over a ford and then up a short very steep hill. The cars had to slow down to negotiate the ford and the bend , so didn't have enough speed to get up the hill , so the men used to stand waiting half way up the hill to give a car a push up to the top of the hill. It got less exciting when newer cars were more powerful and could get up the hill unaided.
There is a bridge replacing the ford now and no farmer's son wanting a threepenny bit to open the gate across the road. Over 70 years later we still go for an occasional picnic there.

Still happens here Callander or the Clyde Valley are faves

Cossy. Your post reminded me of a huge, posh convertible car which passed me as I was out walking a few years ago. The parents were protected by the windscreen, but the young child (maybe around 9 or 10 months old) was perched up in the back in a car seat being buffeted by the wind and exposed to the sun. He/she must have been so distressed, as I was but couldn't do anything.

We didn’t have a car, but were delighted on the odd occasion when a relative came in their car and took us for a picnic. No seat belts then, so more than five of us piled in! More often, my father and I went on cycle runs. He took duraglit and cloths with us so that we could stop to clean our bikes!! We did occasionally stop at a countryside pub, and he’d bring me a small bottle of lemonade and a packet of crisps, then went into the bar and had his pint.

I remember Sunday drives in the school holidays when I lived with my Granny near the Norfolk Broads. We took her mother, my Great Gran, who had never owned a car. Granny had a second hand Jowett Javelin which she would park within sight of the sea and then I was allowed to get out and run about on the beach. The car parks must have been a lot emptier in those days! No one had freezers so the ice cream was a big treat and then we went home for a cup of tea with Great Gran. The ritual never varied and Great Gran used to point out the same landmarks every time and tell the same anecdotes about them.

JamesandJon33

My dad always called them ‘spins’ or ‘trips’. Never drives

Until i saw your post, I had forgotten that my dad used to talk about going for a spin in the car too. 😊

Actually, my OH still uses that expression occasionally
In fact our adult sons do too, but they are talking about a bike ride when they say it!

My dad always called them ‘spins’ or ‘trips’. Never drives

We didn’t have a car until I was 12. A Morris Minor, a sort of pinky grey which was called Rose Taupe!

That first year we went on holiday to Weymouth and two years later to the IOW. The only times I ever remember going on holiday in my childhood. Otherwise it was a day out by train to Barry Island .

I do remember weekend drives to nowhere in particular but it was mostly to see my Auntie May, my fathers favourite sister , before the car it took two buses and a walk

We did this but on a Saturday my dad was always happy to get lost and just keep driving. We visited many NT houses when they weren’t as busy as today. Sunday was for church. The car was an office car

Parents never had a car any time in their life. Quite funny really as DF had a driving licence granted when there was no test. Sunday was basically Sunday School, DM woukd be at church, can't recall SF ever attending. Then home for Sunday dinner tgen out for walk or visit relatives or we had visitors. I enjoyed Sunday school as I loved singing.

I do and I hated them. Dad was away at sea mostly but when he came home he liked to take us for the famous Sunday drive. My brother, sister and I used to sit in the back of our tiny car with our brake feet through the floor. He was a really bad driver. My mother, seated in the front passenger seat was oblivious to all the unnecessary emergency stops and sudden swerves.

Absolutely remember- we always did Malvern Hills or the Elan Valley or similar. In September it would be blackberry picking. On the way home we would stop at a pub for pop and crisps. Then the count down to Monday morning and school would begin when we got home.

I remember standing on the gear shaft between the two front seats, an arm around each parents neck as we drove very fast up the recently opened M 1!
As Cossy said, however did we survive without ‘elf n safety’ ?

I remember my dad asking, “where shall we go this week”? And my answer would always be “let’s get lost”!!!!
We never did though🤣🤣

We didn't have a car until I was halfway through junior school. No Sunday drives! My father didn't do drives going nowhere in particular we had to be going somewhere, it was hard enough trying to get him to give me a lift down to a friend's, he was forever moaning about the cost of petrol. Although my mother passed her test, I think she just wanted to prove to herself she could, but afterwards she rarely drove.

I do remember holidays though, once we had a car we went off down to the West Country or Wales. Prior to that, before we had a car we went to stay with my maternal grandparents down on the Sussex coast, often those journeys would be by steam train, so exciting!. My last holiday with the parents we went up to Scotland and spent interminable hours in the car driving to just about every historical site that exists north of the border. As if we hadn't had enough we had to go off looking for bits of Hadrian's Wall on the way back down. I'd appreciate all that now but then it was all just history lesson overload.

The next year friends and I went to the cultural wasteland known as Benidorm in search of sun and sand!

Yes I do!

My Dad aways had “convertible” cars. When little some had one seat stretching right across the front and I’d sit in the middle.

As his cars changed and got bigger into the back I went.

My parents never once realised how much windier it was in he back, it was quite exciting, but I often thought I was going to blow away. No seat belts and no brothers or sisters to anchor me.

Also remember, on very deserted country roads, my DF putting me on his lap and letting me steer.

How on earth did most of us survive without “Elf & Safety” (not knocking it, it’s saved lives and is mainly a good thing)

My mother was widowed young.
Sometimes we three children and mum were taken for a drive by Uncle Matt and his wife, mum's sister.
I remember we would stop at a pub called The Cherry Tree. The grown ups would go inside for a drink while we three sat in the lovely garden, with pop and crisps.
At other times we drove to Uncle and Aunt's house in the country.
They had a huge garden and kept hens. I used to help my uncle to put the hens to bed in their hen house.
My aunt used to give us a delicious tea of sandwiches and homemade cake.
I have a clear memory of the car my uncle drove. It was an Armstrong Sidley Sapphire.
This would have been in the mid 1950's.

We didn't have a car until I was grown up but we sometimes too a Green Line bus to the countryside- Epping, Theydon Bois, Wanstead. We went to Clacton on a Grey Green coach to stay with my Aunt Em who was lovely.

I absolutely hated those Sunday drives!

Squashed uncomfortably in the back between my mum and my grandma, while my grandad sat in the front passanger seat.

As a child, was prone to travel sickness - though at least in an afternoon it was usually just mild nausea rather than actual vomiting.
Looking back, I think that explains why I never enjoyed walking around any of the places we sometimes stopped off at on those drives. Who enjoys an ice cream when they feel sick?

I was also bored out of my mind in the car, and as a child who always had a good book on the go at home and/or some craft project that I desperately wanted to get on with, it felt like an awful waste of my time.

The relief I felt when, at maybe 13 or 14, I was allowed to opt out of them - something that my big brother had been allowed to do from a much younger age.

Sunday outings were always my dad driving us to our aunties
4 girls in the back of the car and my dad smoking Players Navy cut with all the windows closed ! Arriving at my aunties we were rewarded with the best afternoon tea ever! Blancmange , Victoria sponge and sandwiches made with real butter !

Neither I nor my dh had parents with a car and sadly never knew anyone well enough to be invited out for a ride. So it was bus train or shanks pony for us.
I think my first time in a car was when I was 14 and being run home by mums friend after babysitting her children.
It was an e type Jaguar.

Once we had a car- I can’t remember what sort of- it was old had a starter handle at the front- we would drive over to my maternal grandparents for Sunday tea. It took about an hour, but was not very far by today’s distances. We usually went via the country route, mostly single track lanes. My grandfather always insisted on giving my father some money towards the petrol. My father always tried to refuse. Before we had a car my father had a motor bike to get to work, and my grandmother used to travel to see us on the bus- which did not run on Sundays. We did occasionally drive out to watch the gliders (Wotten-Under-Edge) or for walks in the forest, or to meet with friends.

We didn’t have a car until the mid 1960s so we would get on a bus to Kent and walk round the Kent countryside. Lovely quiet walks in those days following ancient pathways. Rarely saw a soul.

Yes, every Sunday we used to head out of London to Temple Bar or Forty Hall and have a little walk or picnic. As I was an only child, it was my treat to join the family next door but one, we were five children and a soppy spaniel all squashed in the back of the car, and NO seat belts either.
Fond memories.

Grandma used to come most Sundays for a roast dinner.
After washing up and a cuppa, dad would take us for a drive.
My brothers, much older than me, could stay home. I didn’t mind going but was always a little bored . When we got back home, we’d play beetle drive.
Other Sundays we’d drive to visit Nan and grandad in the East End and have cockles and winkles with bread and butter for tea, followed by trifle and carnation milk. All laid out beautifully on a lace table cloth.

Happy memories.