The sounds of my Rhyl home town.

Following on from my earlier post on the persistence of smell in memories, made me think of some distinctive sounds from my youth in Rhyl.

Possibly the most distinctive sound was the boom of the Lifeboat maroons calling the crew in for a launch. These were launched from the Coastguard station near the Marine Lake and scared to death a friend from Belfast when he was visiting in the seventies.


Another sound was that of the donkeys clip clopping along Grange Road in the evening, their day’s work on the beach done. This was always accompanied by the relaxed shouts of encouragement from the donkey wrangler lads on their bikes carrying branches to give the animals a little encouragement if they strayed off the line home.


Summer Sunday mornings produced the humming sound of the Kazoo bands leading the parade of dancing troupes from the Derbyshire Miners’ Camp on Marsh Road. It was a bizarre parade to enliven a quiet Sunday morning. We used to try and distract the girls who always looked determinedly eyes front to avoid us on the side of the road pulling faces and calling names.


The railway station and roundabouts was always a favourite venue and the screech and bang of unfitted coal wagons being marshalled in the yard by the shunter was always a favourite.


The summer sound of the tune that signalled the start and end of rides at the fair was always full of illicit promise.


Finally the cough into life and revving of the diesel engines of the Crosville buses in the Bus Station on the High Street. They were going to such exotic locations, Gronant, Talacre, Meliden, Denbigh and even Ruthin!

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