i made do with a sandwich

8/3/2019 I Made Do With a Sandwich

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I made do with a sandwich

Many years ago, as a young man starting up in London, I had

the good fortune to be working temporarily not far from a large

derelict site on the south bank of the River Thames, across from

the railway station at Charing Cross. As bomb sites went, I

thought this one was huge, and wondered what would be done

with it? Soon it was made known that here would be the site of

a second Great Exhibition, to commemorate the earlier one of 1851, an attraction that would cheer us all up in those difficult

days after the war, even though there was as yet still an element

of rationing, still on more than six years after the fighting had

stopped.

I was working in Covent Garden at the time, and it seemed to

me that the quantities of fruit and vegetables on display there




did not seem to speak of any great shortages, but of course it

did not tell the true state of affairs. Money was tight, and

although films for my camera were available, they were

relatively expensive for my limited budget. I therefore hoarded

what I could get, and having heard that the derelict site I spoke

of was about to be built up for the forthcoming Festival in 1951,

I made it my business to cross Hungerford Bridge in my

lunchtime as often as possible, to take pictures of the site being

developed.

Gradually the scene was changing. From acres of damaged,derelict buildings, with rubble everywhere, and the river bank a

shattered mess, the foundations of Pavilions became clearer as

the months went by, pilings in rows everywhere, with solid

concrete forming bases, whilst at the same time the river bank

was given a proper river wall. A large Shot Tower of 1826

loomed over the river bank area, and was kept as a distinctive




landmark in the shape of a modern, fully functioning

lighthouse. Soon we had the mix of Pavilions taking actual

shape, intended to showcase much of what Britain could make

and what the future might hold.

It was all very exciting, and on May 4th 1951 King George VI

opened the Festival and what a marvellous thing it was. There

was just so much to see. A huge structure called a Skylon,

hanging effortlessly up into the sky, appeared to be a

counterpart to the old shot tower, though I never did quite see

the point of it. We all came to gape, admire, and of course to

eat ice cream. No shortage there for a change, and I would

wander round, licking my way from one Pavilion to another,

part of a crowd of fellow enthusiasts, happy to get away from

economic distress, post-war blues, empty bomb sites, general

austerity and the tail end of rationing. It seems funny too,




comparing the clothes we wore then to what we wear now. It

was still rather formal, with very many of the men walking

around in jackets and ties as a matter of course, whilst smokers

too, were not yet banned.

There were of course a number of souvenirs on sale, and I still

lament having bought so little, but my small salary simply did

not allow for that. Little did I know how expensive these

brochures, for instance, would become in later years. For the

inner man there were no lack of restaurants, some thirteen I

believe, but of necessity I made do with a sandwich which really

was perfectly adequate.

As a transport enthusiast I loved the huge diesel electric

locomotive intended for the Tasmanian Government and the

several large size mock-ups of steam boats sticking out from

their Sea and Ships pavilion, not their front part for some




reason, but their stern. Well, at least we could read their

names, and what a relief to see that Britain could indeed ‘Make

It.’

I did not see as much of the inside of the Pavilions as I would

have liked, as they were comparatively dark inside, and my

camera could not cope under such poor lighting conditions.

Nowadays of course digital cameras wouldn’t have missed a

trick. In any case, it was really not possible to see everything in




one day, and several trips were made, not just to the South

Bank site, but also to the Festival Pleasure Gardens in

Battersea, a short distance away, providing another treat.

This all about having fun rather than admiring exhibits, with

multiple attractions, including a Roland Emett’s fantasy creation, the Far Tottering and Oystercreek Railway, mostly

open coaches hauled by Nellie, an extraordinary-looking steam

engine that looked as though it had been made out of a model

makers ‘bits and pieces’ box, together with possibly pots and

pans from the kitchen and bells and whistles from a toy

cupboard. At least it worked, steaming back and forth a few

hundred yards from one side of the Garden to another, then

back again, into a station that actually had a proper platform,

no doubt for safety reasons. There were children in plenty, and

no lack of adults either, enjoying the short ride. This was but

one of the many things to sample. Others included a fun fair, a




puppet theatre, and a boating pond where small boats went

round and round a small island with a mock lighthouse.

Luckily the weather held whenever I was there but if your shoes

got dusty help was at hand. A man was there to clean you up

and make you feel good again.

The Festival of Britain, it must be remembered, was not just

celebrated in London, but in other parts of the country as well,




but as I did not visit these places I cannot speak about them.

One thing however I do know; my friends and I felt we could

hold our heads up again as Britain celebrated, and that I was

very privileged to have seen so much.

Alec Hasenson

i made do with a sandwich

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