Hairy Traveller and sidekick Jonny – guy with camera – spend a night at Sandy Glade Holiday Park Burnham on Sea Somerset for a taste of a typical British holiday.
Brief History of British Holiday Park
The British holiday camp has been an institution in the UK since the end of the Second World War. In fact, the first Butlin’s Holiday Camp in Skegness was opened in the pre-war period. However, it is post-war that holiday camps really took off.
Brean Holiday Parks
Fred Pontins opened his holiday camp in Brean Somerset in 1946. This has now closed down, but the holiday camp phenomenon spread quickly and has become part of British culture, epitomised in the comedy classic Hi-de-Hi.
Together with Jonny, I travel down to Somerset to check in just along the road from the original Fred Pontins to check in at the John Fowler Sandy Glade Holiday Park.
It is Johnny’s first time to stay in a holiday park, and I think he was quite envious of people who used to spend their well-earned breaks here while he stayed in family accommodation in Somerset.
I meet him already tucking into a pint of Madri – no accounting for taste – at the terrace bar to the front of the park. Fortunately, he has already checked in.
Sandy Glade Holiday Park Burnham on Sea Somerset
Our bungalow is surprisingly spacious. It is perhaps the third or fourth time I’ve stayed in such a place, although the first time at Sandy Glade. It has two bedrooms. One has a king size bed, which Johnny kindly allows me to take, while he takes the two single beds in the spare room.
There is a good kitchen and large lounge area is pretty much unused by us, apart from Jonny tripping over some of the furniture while trying to film the walk-through shot. I can easily imagine a small family staying here without too many arguments, although we have other plans than watching the telly.
Bingo and Crooning
Entertainment is a massive part of any holiday park. Sandy Glade’s entertainment centre has yet to liven up by the time we leave our bungalow, so we pop along down the road to sample some fish and chips by the seaside, another of England’s perennial pursuits. On our tasting Whitby is under no threat for title of the best fish and chips in the UK.
When we return, a pint of Guinness and bloated stomachs later, the bingo has started.
I must confess prior to my stay at Sandy Glade, I have never quite realised how important a part bingo has plays in working class culture in the UK. To say it was tense is an understatement.
People were playing for a grand prize a tad under £30 pounds, with as much seriousness as if the winners of Strictly were due to be announced.
I think entertainment is not quite the word to use to describe what went on.
Jonny christened the man calling out the numbers, the ‘bingo Nazi’, as he ran through the extensive rules and warned people their cards could be ripped up. Woe betide any child who might innocently pick up a maker pen. I think they might have been transported just like those found guilty at Judge Jeffries’ Assizes.
Talking – or suggesting any hint of enjoyment – was particularly frowned upon, as I discovered when I tried to record for our YouTube channel. However, the main offenders were those terrors of the holiday park, the young children who, for some reason, did not understand bingo was such a serious pursuit, and were here to have fun, and presumably consume lots of ice cream.
After bingo we were treated to music from Mark Andrew Smith, a veteran of the holiday park and repeat offender at Sandy Glade. He crooned to his devotees, although this being the end of the season, the place was more empty than full. To be fair, he had a good voice and sound sense of humour, and was deserving of a more copious audience.
Top Gear on the Sands
After this, we returned to our static bungalow and crashed, for in the morning we had some serious business to do. First breakfast in the cafe, white bread and a jar of Nescafé creating a retro feel of the 1980s, which I suspect was not retro, but was in keeping with the whole ambience of the holiday park.
Then we drove to the beach, literally onto the beach, where I released my inner Jeremy Clarkson. Dropping Johnny off on the sand so he could film me with the drone, I drove forward along the sand and then returned. I am waiting to hear back from the Guinness Book of Records to discover if I broke any land speed records.
It felt great. My mother learned to drive on sand, but we shouldn’t hold that against the sands of Wales.
I’m not sure if it improved my driving technique, but it was definitely fun.
Brean is one of the few places in the UK where you can still drive, albeit when the tide is out. Tides are important here. The Severn Estuary has the second-highest tidal range in the world (after Hawaii), and many a person has returned to their car to find it drifting off to Wales. Jonny himself was abandoned here by his parents, which explains a lot.
After that, we drove along the road, sadly, to Brean Down for Jonny to fly the drone to take some footage of the spectacular beach, and the Down rising majestically before dipping into the estuary and re-emerging once more out from the waters.
On my previous visit to Brean, I had climbed and walked along the Down to the Victorian fort at the end. This time, Johnny turned down the opportunity of carrying his video camera up the steep hill for we had more important things to do, namely, to discover the wonderful pubs in Somerset.
John Fowler Sandy Glade Holiday Park Burnham on Sea Somerset
If you would like to book a night at Sandy Glade Somerset, then click here.
