School Trips

At around the age of 11, I went on a school trip, from Lanchester Endowed Parochial School, to the Isle of Man. This was exciting stuff; it was, after all, practically abroad!

We were collected from school by a coach, which almost reached the train station unaided. By which I mean we only had to get out and push once. This was hardly surprising, I suppose, given that we were sitting three-to-a-double-seat.

The coach may have resembled a greasy tin of sardines, (apologies for the image, though I must say, it’s not a bad one), but the train was absolutely rammed. Our party was spread through many compartments, across several carriages, with often two of us sharing a seat. My clearest recollection, of the train, is that of being squashed against a slightly discomfiting passenger, who laughed nervously throughout the journey whilst staring into space. This did work to our advantage however, since passengers who weren’t part of our school group seemed to want to move to a different compartment, as quickly as possible.

Crossing the Irish Sea was perhaps the most memorable boat trip I’ve ever made – well, there was that time on Kielder Water, when the ‘stiff’ wind increased to Storm Force, the engine in our small sailing boat failed on the way to the mooring, heading into the wind, and the people on the cruisers chugging past really did think we were just waving – I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a person actually turn green, before or since, not really green.

We reached Douglas, and the hotel that was to be our home for the next week. Imagine our relief when we discovered that the hotel was not run by Basil Fawlty, which would have been ridiculous after all. No, not Basil, though I do believe our hostess could have been his sister. I may remember unfairly; after all, we were allowed to have a bath during the week . . . just the one, shared between four, which isn’t so bad, is it?

Things have certainly changed since then: seat belts, CRBs, risk assessments, entertainment (erm, that would be aside from watching Susie lose her cheese-slice sandwiches over Mr Jenkins’ shoes), LEA stipulations, concerned parents, dietary requirements, etc, etc. But do you know what? I still have the project folder I made after my Isle of Man trip, with Manx coins, photos, postcards, ticket stubs and a different story with something new learned for every day we were there. It was more fun than jelly and I’ll never forget it.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not suggesting we go back to the old days, I have children for goodness sake. There is a lot more stress involved in leading a school trip now though and teachers seem to be responsible for everything. But hey, a school trip with risk assessments, backed by the LOtC Quality Badge, all admin covered, with executive coaches, purpose-built accommodation, Group Leaders who look after your students from breakfast to bedtime, including evening entertainments, knowledgeable guides and exciting on-site activities, with all dietary requirements catered for and instructors who will encourage the whole group to speak French and achieve more than they – or you – imagined possible.

I don’t see the attraction myself; where’s the sense of adventure in that? No, there has to be a catch, it all seems to good to be true.

If you’re looking for something as elusive as the perfect school trip, try www.chateau-beaumont.co.uk for starters.