What a week it was! Such a big undertaking, that it makes you wonder who had the nerve to suggest the idea in the first place. And how did they persuade all those people to take a share in the work? The organisation alone must have a tremendous challenge, but to the outsider that busy background was invisible, and it almost seemed as if the five days just happened of their own accord.
And what was this unusual event? What was it like exactly, and how did it feel to the people who came? What did we do for all that time, and what did the organisers do for us? … Well, it was so varied that you can’t sum it up in a few words… All right; it was complicated, but surely you can tell us what it felt like… Perhaps the fairest comment I heard was someone saying, ‘It’s like those parties we all used to go to when we were young.’
But of course we weren’t young any longer. This ‘holiday’ wasn’t aimed at youth; it was intended for the elderly, and that is what we were. Perhaps I’m not the best person to tell you about it; for one thing, I missed the first day altogether, and for another… Well, you’ll see. Come on, they are waiting at the door to welcome us in.
Most of it took place in the Crypt Room, starting at eleven o’clock in the morning coffee time! And that was the first surprise: none of your instant stuff; this was real ground coffee (or tea if you’d rather) and accompanied by the most luxurious biscuits. In the programme it was described as Introduction, but actually people drifted in for the next half-hour (fifteen or twenty of them) and largely introduced themselves. Some I knew, some I didn’t; the mixture seemed just about right.
At half-past, there was a short recital of the spoken word. If you’ve been to any of the Literary Hours, held at lunch-time in the church on the third Wednesday of the month, you will know the sort of thing it was: a group of people reading poems, scenes and stories on a common theme, but this was only for half an hour. John Willmer put on the first, about children, on Monday (that was the one I missed) and another on Thursday, called The Unexpected. I heard that one and ended up in tears, when it finished with the final climax of that lovely book The Railway Children.
The other three half-hours were arranged by Stephen Clarke: Derring Do on Tuesday was about famous acts of courage; Trust and Betrayal on Wednesday, which explains itself; and History and the Past on Friday. I took part in all three of them, so I can’t tell you what they were like from the audience point of view, but the general style was typical of Stephen: a witty glance at a serious subject‘gravitas with a twinkle.’
From 12 till 1pm there was a talk, but on Tuesday they had to revise the programme; poor Mark Nevard had been to the dentist and was in no state to perform before lunch, but afterwards he gave us a fascinating account of hallmarks on silver. It was very complicated, but I came away with two surprising facts: apparently marking began about 1300, and, if you want to sell anything that’s hallmarked, it’s essential to show it to Mark first, to avoid being swindled.
On Wednesday David Moore told us the story of his musical development from the age of five, when he picked out the signature tune of East Enders on the piano, and so on step by step to how he won an organ scholarship to one of the Oxford colleges (to my shame, I’ve forgotten which). This involved him in taking the student choir on a series of international tours. Afterwards, he tried being a school music teacher before recognising that his real love was church music, and so he went on to be assistant organist at Truro Cathedral before coming to us at St John’s.
On Thursday we all swapped reminiscences of the 1920s, ’30s and ’40s, which – not surprisingly – tended to centre on experiences of World War II, and on Friday we saw an enchantingly silly film, in which Tommy Cooper and Eric Sykes were laying a floor but found themselves one plank short, which led to some hilarious knockabout. Meanwhile, some of the ladies had a professional massage.
About one o’clock, from Monday to Thursday, we were all given a glass of sherry, but on Friday it was a glass of Pimm’s, complete with fruit cup and all the trimmings. Then came lunchI beg its pardon, Luncheon. It took us all by surprise. The Spring Fair and other events had long ago taught us to expect a standard far above the usual church hall’s, but this was first-class restaurant stuff. It was really delicious; waitress service and generous portions, quite often with second helpings.
After lunch came a quiz, a different one each day. To give you a taste of it, here is the first clue in the Numbers & Letters Quiz… 26 LITA. What did the letters stand for? (The answer is given below.) Even working in groups we found them quite difficult; I don’t think anybody scored as much as 20 out of 27.
You’ve already read about Tuesday afternoon. On Wednesday we had a huge cream tea with scones and cakes in the open air at Henderson Court, while David Moore and Gill Perrin entertained us, playing duets together on one piano of all the popular tunes of our distant youth from The Teddy Bears’ Picnic to Chopsticks. We had a lovely time there; the only sad thing was that our people and the Henderson Courtiers tended to sit at different tables.
On Thursday Maggie Willmer taught us all how to make a booklet with details of the lives of one’s family and oneself, and on Friday Barbara Alden gave us a singing lesson with all kinds of simple songs, from English favourites to Maori chants. Each day ended at half-past three, leaving us weary but with a sense of real fulfilment.
There were far too many workers for me to tell you all their names, but two or three simply must be mentioned. Diana Finning seemed to be in overall charge with the help of Rosemary Loyd and Sheena Ginnings. Liz Cross was responsible for the superb catering, and Maggie Willmer did the technical side (I forgot to tell you, we also saw another film – the musical, High Society). Everybody I spoke to hopes they’ll do it again – even the people who did all the work!
(Letters in the alphabet)
Holiday in Hampstead
Bill Fry