The Blackpool Weekends #2

To provide a true flavour of what the Blackpool gathering was like, there's a short video on YouTube made by Kevin Davies of the 1981 gathering and if you look very, very carefully you’ll see me crossing the road around 3 and a half minutes in with someone wearing a big scarf though that is not really the most exciting moment- unless there was a dinosaur heading for us! You can also see a Sea Devil pootling about. Link to Blackpool 1981 video

It is with a little trepidation also that I present some (slightly edited) reviews I wrote at the time for the fanzine `Shada`. You may not know the names mentioned but these give a further illustration of what the weekends were like, there’s also some photos from various events. If you were there see if you can spot yourself. 

1983

1982!

The weekend, for me, started with the journey and about twelve of us left Lime Street in the early afternoon - that is David Lovatt, Terry Kerr, myself and David's luggage. Never one to take one case when twelve will do, he was loaded like a packhorse with containers of all dimensions. Changing at Preston to a first class compartment, we met Mark Woodward and co who imparted the important news that The Wiggins (Future John- This was Martin J Wiggins btw not Bradley Wiggins) was aboard. Gasp! We dashed from the train, leaving David behind unfortunately, and boarded a taxi, whizzing past MJW's silly hat towards the Lyric Hotel. After dumping our gear, we went to the chippy, being waylaid by a man selling beer mats and then waiting an age for Steven's big sausage, which looked ridiculous so Mark and I settled for chips only. Back at the hotel, people were arriving in droves, including a Derby contingent and even the London mob turned up at a respectable hour. We also had our traditional evening jaunt on the beach, almost sabotaged by a policeman who, failing to recognise Gary Russell, told us to take our glasses back to the hotel: "But officer, I can't see without them…” etc.

Saturday morning was like a bucket of cold water as I woke with what might be called a small headache and stumbled to breakfast to discover that all copies of the Daily Record had sold out due to a colour photo of a certain two companions in their new costumes. Then came the first entertainment of the day which is totally unmentionable. (Future John- These vague references are to video copies of supposedly missing episodes that we weren’t supposed to publicly mention but I think it’s safe too now that they’re all widely available in all formats!)

Then it was down to the Exhibition for a quick flash (cameras of course). There was the usual mixture of seasoned favourites and seasonal newies, including a rather good `Visitation` display, a very nervous `Hand of Fear`, a battered K9, that anti-smoking Dalek and a display which managed to mix `Destiny of the Daleks` with `Castrovalva`. Stephen Crooks showed admirable restraint by only taking three photos of the Gundans.  Someone kitted up as a Cyberman terrorised the public whilst we always seemed to end up watching the regeneration video. After meeting back at the hotel, we then returned back to the exhibition (actually, it was great, but as you can see, makes lousy reviewing - or is it just me? Don't answer that!)

The evening saw the party when all the fanzines showed themselves and Stephen McKay tried to flog a certain item for a little too much. John Bok was just slightly plastered and tried to eat some paper plates and people wandered between the bar, the space invaders and the television. To get fresh air we went down onto the beach again, finally squatting in Mark and Steven's bedroom (Future John- Amusingly when I scanned this article due to the ancient typeface the word came out as Jedroom which is obviously where Jedward sleep) until the latter chucked us out, so we sought refuge in the 'Front Tyre Whirls' temporary HQ. John Harding, Gary, Peter Lovelady and myself were those who broke that 4am barrier - yes it was us who kept you all awake. And isn't Gary a mine of information?

Sunday was slow getting started; although Steven was the only one to show it, I'm sure a lot of us were nursing sore heads. We went back to the exhibition, where David Howe took a group photo before Paul Zeus became a Cyberman thus allowing two of them to stalk around menacingly. The whole thing was videoed which gave us the chance to see such delights as Paul Trainer’s hat, a multiple regeneration scene and Terry Kerr dancing all over again later. The afternoon saw David Lovatt chose to spread his slides all over the lobby - a hint that he wanted to do a slide show perhaps? Luckily we were about to leave.


 

1983

Lyric lobby, 1983

 

Lyric bar, 1983

 

1984

1983!

You'd think that buying a white T-Shirt would be a relatively simple task in a place the size of Blackpool. But not for Ian Thompson. You see, he wanted the right T-Shirt and consequently led myself and Robert Stuart round a succession of those really trendy clothes shops where you stand around embarrassed as your friend sifts through some garish red jeans or something similarly awful. When he'd finally bought the T-Shirt, we had to drag lan screaming from the shop as he admitted he could have spent a whole day there. This was Saturday lunchtime, a mid-point in the festivities of the annual Blackpool binge held, as ever, in the Lyric and Brunswick Hotels. All had gone well so far. John Bok had nearly taken out the hotel while parking, Philip Ince had unravelled most of his pullover and Gary Russell had been honoured by 'Eamon Andrews'. Most of Friday evening had been spent in the Lyric bar with David Owen wandering around telling people how much he respected them. Not many zines on sale this year, only 'Shady' and the infamous ode to spelling, 'Cerebratron Mentor' which kept Steve Howell's attention off the beans.

The traditional 'hanging around the exhibition' was not as long as last year. Inside those hallowed portals, there seemed to be no money left in the meter as the corridors were incredibly dark, giving Philip the chance to trip people up. The exhibits ranged from a head banging Gundan through a line- up of the Time Lord council, Omega and his bird (the Ergon), a Dalek running rings around a totally out of it Davros and displays from `Mawdryn Undead` and `Terminus`. One exhibit in the corridor was a montage of various costumes but sadly only lit up once an hour! Stuart Halliday rushed around videoing everything, whilst Russell Atkinson donned a Time Lord Guard's costume and spent the morning swishing his cloak about.

When we weren't in the exhibition, we were in the adjoining cafe for the usual feverish bitching and much tea drinking (more than alcohol this year). On the Sunday when David Richardson, Craig Hinton, Russell Stone and I ventured (finally) onto the golden sand, we discovered a bunch of people re-doing the `Logpolis` regeneration scene. 

All of which pales into insignificance compared to the spoof This Is Your Life for Gary R who was later presented with a newspaper that carried the headline `Gary Russell buys a round` by David Saunders. As ever the Lyric staff were great and kind also to Steve Howell by providing beans on Saturday morning. The evenings were, as you’ve no doubt guessed, very much blah-blah-blah `Tomb of the Cybermen` jobs. (Future John- This story became shorthand for any missing episode though we never saw any episodes of it. Ironically it was later found.) In between these showings, people queued up to have an argument with David Saunders while Ian and Russell enthralled Philip, Robert and I with some interesting tales that are too good to be included here. Steve Mercer (now with added bleach) received a BBC cup for his birthday. The approach of the staff was one which other pubs should follow - ring the time bell at 10.20, but serve till 2.00am! It was all over too soon and David Howe's farewell speech ("Right, that's all") signalled a stampede towards the station/cars until a little band of people were left to suffer Peter Lovelady's trick cigarettes. 

Strange Yellow Void, Me, Marcia, Graeme Wood. Marcia's parents ran the Lyric Hotel

Me,  Paul Desborough, Exhibition exit 1984

 

On the beach 1984 (l-r) Justin Richards, Peter Lovelady, Paul Desborough, Me, Doug Smith, David Saunders, Andrew Martin, Alec Charles.

1985

1984!

Perhaps you have wondered if the increasingly famous Alec Charles can walk on water. Well, if you look out to sea (you're standing on Blackpool beach now of course) you can just make out a pair of multi coloured stripy trousers and their owner striding confidently towards Ireland. That is Alec Charles. This is Blackpool '84 and we are 77 people in two hotels having a wonderful time.  It's David Howe's 3rd and last stint as organiser and he looks well pleased as there's a great deal of visual entertainment about, not least a riotous assembly of Scottish football fans who take delight in chucking drinks at people.  This year’s event was less packed than usual with several luminaries absent and very slow to get off the ground as we all sat around in the lobby of The Lyric or The Brunswick pretending to be surprised as news of next season we' d made up and spread a week earlier. The usual cross section of characters were about, including Gary Russell and his baggy pullovers, Steve Mercer and his drinks and David Saunders in his usual party frock. Amidst all the goings on, we did manage to make several trips out to the beach and a cafe where Gary embarrassed us all except Richard Marson who manages quite nicely on his own.

Naturelment, much of the time on Saturday was taken up in the Exhibition which this year is even darker with the shocking addition of a bouncy new carpet at the bottom of the stairs. Most of the exhibits are from last season, including a `Warriors of the Deep` scene, a `Frontios` display and a hastily re-arranged Dalek display which isn't too dissimilar to last year's. There's also a good range of old monsters including a Zygon, Yeti, Gundan (which nearly chops your head off) and the Master. For the kiddies, there's even more levers and buttons to fiddle about with so you can save the universe every few minutes.  They must have done a cunning deal with the cafe next door 'coz now that's the only way out - thus ensuring CMS-type profits for their meals. There's even a painting on the cafe wall of the Master and a Cyberman. 

There was a party on the Saturday night at which Alec got drunk, but not quite as badly as Steve M who should be nicknamed Fish, because he drinks like one. Meanwhile Paul Desborough introduced me to bacardi and coke  while all of a sudden various fanzines emerged such as "Eye of Horus" "Wilf's Eye View" and a humerous little thing called "Private Ent". T'was certainly a good night and even the Exec. persons didn't argue.

Sunday morning sauntered in wearing a fizzy smile (we had great weather - first time since '79 it hadn't rained) and the news that Peter Lovelady, despite his green shirt, had drawn the short straw and been chosen to run next year's thing. Other gems of interest included lots of fliers for the Recall UNIT play in Edinburgh in August (probably worth a visit) and a collection for Douglas Camfield's widow, Sheila Dunn. There'll probably be a collection for the Lyric hotel as well after a minibus decided to take a short cut and leave via the lobby! Somebody tried to organise a game of football, but only eight people played and a hard tackle from Chris Dunk put Doug Smith out of action. The Doctor's car, Bessie, was also in evidence and ended up being put to good use shunting people to the station. And Alec went for his swim after much deliberation. Paul D wondered where all his money had gone as we discussed our prospective fanzine `Ocean Rain`, whilst Uncle David gave me a cheque for money I didn't even know I'd lent him. I keep getting the feeling I was buying more drinks than I remember.  

It was all over too quickly of course and to be mentioned are the hotel people (for putting up with Dominic May at breakfast) and the other wonderful duo in our own little clique me, Doug and Paul D!

Me, Cybe 1985

Outside the Exhibition 1985

1986