Clare Teal: Blackpool days out leave a towering impression

Within minutes of leaving the house, mum would announce that the first one to see the Blackpool Tower would get a chocolate lime. I never won, but then I've hated chocolate limes with a passion all my life.

Most years we'd go via the famous shoe emporium, Tommy Balls of Blackburn. Tommy started out as a rag-and-bone man, before selling second-hand clothes on a market stall. I don't know when he discovered his love of shoes but he was certainly very good at selling them.

During the '70s and '80s, people would come to his warehouse store by the coach load. As he was wont to say, "I don't sell cheap shoes – I sell shoes cheap!"

Once shod for the next school term it was onward to the jewel of the North. We used to park in Preston (or so it seemed) then walk for miles to Littlewoods – more boring shopping followed, my brother and I were always to be found in the doorbell and chimes section with all the other kids, much to the chagrin of the lady who

ran it.

After dad purchased a new pair of slacks, we were treated to fish fingers and chips in the restaurant with its skiddy lino.

Then on to the beach to mix with the various "Sandgrown'uns".

Being March or April, the weather was invariably sub-zero or "mildly bracing" in northern terms.

Many a happy hour was spent licking sandy ice-cream cones or flying my brother's stunt kite.

The final and best bit of the day was the Pleasure Beach. In 1979, "The Revolution" opened, costing a whopping 1m. My brother and I talked of nothing else – Jim'll Fix It fixed it for a bunch of Scouts to eat their packed lunch while riding it, so how could it be that scary? Well it was. I never tried it twice.

Dodgems were more my scene. I also loved the Steeple Chase, sitting on a wooden horse gripping on to my dad with my eyes tight shut. Pickled whelk, anyone?

I'll be playing at the Howard Assembly Rooms, in Leeds, on Saturday. Come and say hello if you get a chance.