Out of school, the street was our playground and—as The Portwey was not a through road until the mid-1930’s, even then little used—it was a quite large play area. The area also included the first part of The Litelmede which was a hill; the propulsion power of gravity for any type of wheeled vehicle. Slowly but surely the clique that was the neighbouring residents stablished a community where news of the exploits or misdemeanors was well-known to all the street. Reputations were established for perpetual borrowers, handy-men, gardeners, social advice and other domestic services. These are now part of our lives governed by the state, but in those days the community was self-regulating and self-governing, and far less impersonal. At the same time, the children basked in the reflected glory of their parents and were cliques in their own right, mainly governed by age restriction. However, it was very useful to have an elder brother who would fight for you, but it also caused trouble among the older groups when two elder brothers or sisters were defending the rights of their own family. Reading over this it sounds as though there was a lot of disagreement but this was not so, as defence was only undertaken in a just cause. What is apparent is the sense of fair play that existed in all areas, young and old, and how easy it was to settle everything by talking and not by force. Force was the last resort and shouting and arguing was more common.
It was about this time that I discovered the street was not the limit of the universe and that another world existed outside the route to school and back. The first one discovered was a large field on the corner of St. Barnabas Road and French Road, where there now stands St. Barnabas Library. This field was meadow grass and was cut two or three times a year for hay. The cutting was done by hand by an old man with a scythe and, to a child, to see the grass fall in swaths with the regular strokes of the scythe was fascinating, and to see him stop every twenty or thirty strokes to sharpen the scythe was even more fascinating. Eventually, adventurousness grew and we graduated to finding another way home by going down French Road and through the gardens (allotments) opposite French Road after crossing Kitchener Road. On the way, one of our classmates’ grandad had a smallholding growing tomatoes, at which we sometimes stopped. We eventually arrived at Coleman Road after crossing the tram tracks which had a private road of their own. Up Coleman Road and across Uppingham Road, and we arrived at the Portwey. Deviations took place en route; there were all sorts of things to investigate like a piece of waste ground at the side of the railway, and all sorts of treasures for small boys were discovered.
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