I’m sure Dad and Mum organised Beano’s at other pubs that we had but this is the only record I have of the one from The Hop Pole. Mum is in the back row.  

I know for a fact that my parents dreaded them!  It really wasn’t their scene at all. But it had to be done.

The customers would save for a whole year to go on one.  Dad would keep the records of what was saved. Each customer had their own little red book that Dad recorded their savings in. They could save as little or as much as they liked.  Out of this money, the coach would be paid for and crates of beer purchased for the journey.  If they had any money left over that would be reimbursed and used on their day out.  

Often these days out were the only holiday that people had.  The only break away from their lives that were often very hard.  Hardly any working class Londoners of the 50’s had cars, so a trip to the seaside was a big event.  Looked forward to eagerly, a chance to let their hair down and forget their troubles for a while.  

It was a day out on a coach or a charabanc, which was pronounced ‘charabang’.  Always to the seaside. Well what went for the seaside to Londoners.   North Londoners usually went to Southend and South Londoners to Margate.

The crates of beer that they had been saving up for would be loaded onto the coach and the day trippers turned out dressed in their Sunday Best. Early morning would see them ready and waiting in the Saloon Bar and Mum would have made coffee and bacon rolls for them. But a few pints would be pulled even at that hour.   

These outings were separate, that is there would be a Ladies Beano that Mum would be in charge of and Dad would have the responsibility of the Men’s.

The coach usually left around eight in the morning and it would be midnight or later that it arrived back at the pub.

The men’s trip would only be going for about half an hour and into a lay-by the coach would go and out came the crates of beer for the first drink.  This would happen at regular intervals along with stops for a quick dash into the bushes for a pee.

Bearing in mind that the roads were not as good as they are now and the coaches not that speedy either, prone to breaking down too, the journey with all the stops could take two to

three hours or more.  Sometimes they never got there. On one occasion the coach overheated and the limped to the nearest pub car park, where Dad and the driver did running repairs.  The men were happily installed in the pub and refused to go on.  The publican stayed open and that was that. But it was an outing that Dad actually came home with a full compliment.  

At their destination, the men usually just went into the nearest pub ! Their savings burning a hole in their pockets.  A break for a paddle lunch time and fish and chips. Quick doze in a deck chair.  A dash to the rock shop to pick up those sticky pink sticks for the children. Then back to the pub or pubs.  Everyone had their favourite.  This caused Dad lots of problems trying to round the men up to get them back on the coach and home.  Often resulting in leaving a couple of them behind. They all knew where the coach would be and what time they had to be on it but after a few beers that all went out of the window.  Especially if the pub had entertainment and they were in full voice or hurling some local ladies around the dance floor.

Once the majority were on board the coach headed for home.  More comfort stops on the way home and the beer crates emptied.  Singing was obligatory and all the old songs would be sung on the journey home accompanied by the odd few snores.

Back at the pub those still standing would want to have one for the road and Dad always obliged.  Illegally of course.  He would play the piano and there would be more singing. Wives, Mums and girlfriends usually went to meet the coach and it would turn into quite a party.  

These Beanos had to take place on a Saturday so that they had Sunday to sleep it all off.

The Ladies Beano was a slightly more sedate trip, but not much. Often three generations on board.  Grans, Mums and daughters.  After a few drinks the rows would start and Mum spent most of her time trying to calm everyone down.  There was a lot of rivalry amongst the women, jealousy too, over husbands mostly. The odd black eye they took home would be a result of the fights on the sea front.

The ladies also had lay-by stops for the odd beer or two. But they would also stop at the roadside cafes to use the toilets.  At these establishments they would just march in on mass and use the facilities and go, not buying anything!  But Mum said the proprietors wouldn’t make too much of it as these Eastend ladies were a force to be reckoned with.  Mum did try to organise a cream tea once at one of these cafes but that didn’t go down well, no alcohol.

On arrival at Southend or Margate, after instructions from Mum not to be late back they would disperse and some do as the men did spend the day in a pub or others walk the pier and buy Kiss Me Quick Hats, play bingo and use the machines, eat candy floss, shell fish and take little presents home for their children.  A consultation with Gypsy Rose the fortune teller would be an annual must too.  If the weather was good they would have a paddle and sit to eat their fish and chips on the beach. Nobody in the 50’s took suncream that seriously but I bet they wish that they had as there were several very red faces climbing back on board the coach.  Mum, like Dad often ‘lost’ a tripper or two.  More difficult for her as the men would be waiting at home and didn’t take too kindly to their women being left behind.  

I’m not sure when these trips came to an end.  They were certainly still going well into the 60’s. Later I’m guessing the trips became, theatre visits or family outings to the zoo or theme park.

Dad still ran a savings scheme in The Claremont but eventually I think it was just for Christmas or the customers Summer Holiday Fund. They would save for their Christmas Booze.  So it paid Dad to keep the little red books going as at pay out day they would buy a few extra pints in the pub that night and buy their bottles of spirits for their Christmas Parties.  Similarly with the Holiday Fund.  In the pubs then it was a tradition that the day before their holiday began they would all assemble in the pub give Dad their savings book and with the cash buy everyone a drink for their holiday.  It would turn into quite a late night and a party with most if not all their holiday money going over the bar.  A send off they called it, a proper start to their holiday.

Don’t forget, the supermarkets didn’t have a licence to sell alcohol for quite a few years.  There were Off Licences but they kept to pub hours of opening and their prices were very similar.  I had a good friend whose parents ran an Off Licence, it seemed to me they might as well run a pub as the hours were just as long.  But I suppose they did find a little more family time than we had, and my friend was allowed in the shop.

I don’t know the laws now but then unless you had a restaurant in the pub somewhere, children were not allowed in until they were 14, then they had to stay away from the bar and only drink non alcoholic drinks purchased by an adult.  18 was the age that you could drink and buy your own beer.  If you had a restaurant area then children of all ages could sit at the food tables, but couldn’t go into the bar area.  

This takes me onto another story.

Dad was once taken to court charged with serving a minor.  This minor was the son of one of the big families that used The Royal Standard. He and his Dad were regulars in the pub and drank copious amounts of beer.  Dad never questioned this family about age.  You didn’t in those days as rarely would an underage try to buy a beer, and you didn’t want a fist in your face for asking.  Children didn’t come into the pubs then, they sat outside on the pavement with a bottle of pop and crisps. Anyway, in court the magistrate I think it was, not a judge, asked the young man to stand up.  He stood, all six foot of him, broad shouldered and with stubble on his chin.  The magistrate asked him his name and age.  The young man stated his name and age, 15.  Next thing the magistrate said was ‘Case Dismissed, Mr Markham ( my Dad) I can see how this mistake was made with a physique like that and such a deep voice I would have served him too.’  

So, that was that.  However,  although Dad had to turn a blind eye to the young man continuing to drink he wasn’t served again at the bar until he was 18.