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I'm 45 and I remember lieud seaside postcards as a kid and with the hot sun, the cockels, whelks, mussels and the whole fish and chips thing; wrapped up in salt and malt vinegar in yesterday's daily newspapers with the options of savaloy sausages and scotch eggs I did'nt know of the sexual content that English beaches availed. Yet I have been very embarrased to ask a Canadien Ski instructor recently when he mentioned a glory hole: " What's a glory hole ?" and he told me. I am very happy to remember a time gone by when sexual things were suggested and spontaneous. Today life is all too graphic.
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