It was the summer of 1984. A family tragedy meant that I was
sad, confused and quite simply devastated. This blog is not going to be a sad one;
I will address the very sad thing another time. This one is going to be a happy one. My friend
Mandy got me to persuade my Dad to let me go to the Walton Hop for the very
first time. I am ashamed to say that I “milked” my sadness and got the pass I
wanted. Wahoo! The infamous Walton Hop
where people traveled far and wide to be part of. A happy place for
teenagers. The entrance was £1.80 – they
had a bar selling soft drinks, chocolate, crisps and cigarettes.
I can still hear the music now to this very day. I loved the
sound of the disco, Lost in Music by Sister Sledge, Trapped by Colonel Abraham
– the list goes on, the lights are low, and everyone is dancing. Guest DJs included people I had only seen on
Top of the Pops. I was absolutely thrilled to be part of this. The place was heaving with dodgy perms, a few
mods and goths and generally ultra trendy people. I was in absolute awe. Yes,
from the very first time I went, I was in love with the Walton Hop! The town
was already famous for Sham 69, Hersham Boys and now The Hop Disco that had
been running on a Saturday night since the late 1970s.
It did cheer me up and the very first time I went, I got
asked to slow dance with a guy with a wedge (DA/Ducks Arse) Hair Cut – A La
Andrew Ridgeley. I don’t think we
talked; we just swayed to the music and had a cheeky snog at the end. I think
his name was Keith. I never saw him again even though I was then hooked on The
Walton Hop and went every Saturday night for a year or so.
There was talk of fighting, but I rarely witnessed anything
more than a scuffle in the car park. Various schools and districts would gang
up on each other. Not like more recent times, no hoodies, no proper gangs from
twee towns like Epsom.
Sometimes whilst waiting at the Bus Stop in Molesey, we
would cadge a lift from total strangers; hormonal teenage boys in their Ford
Capris.
If you did a mime to a song on the stage, you would get a
free pass for the following week, so it was well worth the embarrassment – and
brilliant fun! Going back stage and being even closer to the DJ was very exciting.
I remember Jonathan King as we watched his TV show back home about travelling
around the US. He barely took any notice of us girls, now we know why. Am shocked and saddened by what he did to
innocent young boys and my heart goes out to them and the suffering they have
had to endure throughout their lives.
The Hop finished at 11.30. I hated it that my Mum and Dad
would pick me up at 10.30 or 11. GRRR. How annoying. If my Mum came with my Dad
to pick me up, she would try and be nosy and I was absolutely mortified by
this. I felt so embarrassed and would run as quickly as I could to them in the
car park, before they had a chance to get out and witness anything they
shouldn't have. My daughter is
embarrassed by me already and she is only 5!
Well the Walton Hop Reunion looms in March 2015. What shall
I wear? Shall I have a perm paired with
a Madonna Lace Ribbon, a bright green top, bright blue skirt, matching socks
and shiny brogue shoes? I need to work
on the jelly belly (yes, five years on, disgraceful). Do I need botox? Will all the other girls,
now well on the road to fifty, still look fabulous? Will there still be a slow dance at the
end? I will see loads of old friends
from Molesey and Walton and some Salesians Kids (well adults, you know what I
mean). Someone posted on Facebook that if you are aged 15- 25, you won’t know
what the Walton Hop is, but just ask your Mum and Dad!
For old time’s sake, do we stop off at the Off Licence on
route and buy a bottle of Cider or Cinzano?
Yuk, I remember drinking the latter neat as we did not have enough money
for lemonade.
These really were such happy days. I wish they had lasted
forever and I just cannot wait for the Reunion in March!
