Paul Fitzpatrick

The summer of 72 got off to a great start when it was announced that the school holidays had been extended by two weeks to align the school leaving age in Scotland (to sixteen), with the rest of the UK.

On top of that I had been invited to go on a camping holiday doon the coast by a good mate Alan McGuire and his family, so five of us and a dog made our way down the old A77 to join other happy campers at Ayr Racecourse which was utilised as a camping site during the off season.
We were a 20-minute walk from the beach and Ayr’s bustling town centre plus there were great facilities on site.

The next 10 days were among the happiest of my young life.

Camping can be a bit of a lottery, especially in Scotland but the weather was glorious and it never seemed to get dark, this was my first proper camping experience but every night we’d collapse into our sleeping bags exhausted from the day’s exertions which included daily football matches (between the Scottish and English holidaymakers), all ages and abilities welcome.

We were both turning 14 and thought we were grown up but of course 14 is a real inbetween age, too old for Bedknobs and Broomsticks and too young for The Godfather.

One of my biggest memories from the trip was the music, there were transistor radios everywhere churning out the hits of the day, and the summer of 72’s music was pretty special.

Oddly, another standout memory amongst all the activities and full days was watching two episodes of Top of the Pops (TOTP)

I often missed Top of the Pops during the football season because it clashed with football training on a Thursday night, but I always made an effort to watch it when I could, and the summer of 72 presented so many memorable moments.

First there was Bowie with “Starman”, I wasn’t even sure what I was watching, he was weird but cool at the same time, however, there was no mistaking the quality of the music, it was incredible, and I rushed out to buy the single from Woolies the next day.

The following week another unknown. Alice Cooper exploded onto our screens with “Schools Out“, menacingly dressed in black with ghoulish eye makeup and a sword. It was all theatre of course but we didn’t know it at the time, and were suitably shocked.

During his performance I remember a girl in a pink smock innocently dancing on stage beside him and thinking ‘you need to be careful love; he could have your eye out with that sword’.

Once again Woolies duly received my hard-earned paper-round money.

The hits kept coming and the following week another band I’d never heard of dropped into my orbit. They were called Mott the Hoople and they rocked up with the anthemic “All The Young Dudes”, another jaw dropper, which we discovered came from the pen of Bowie.

Woolies, here I come!

As it happened we arrived in Ayr on a Thursday, settled in and happily realised that watching TOTP was a communal activity, so a large group of teenagers including my pal’s older sister gathered round the TV in the racecourse clubhouse to see who would be appearing that week.

It would be fair to say that the majority of the assembled audience were female and were there in anticipation that their current crushes – David Cassidy or Donny Osmond would be making an appearance on screen, but unfortunately for them there would be no Donny or David that week. However, they weren’t disappointed as Rod Stewart premiered “You Wear it Well” with The Faces in tow.
Everybody loved Rod back then, and he was larking around doing Rod stuff, reading the lyrics from a piece of paper as if he was singing karaoke.

I found a record shop in Ayr the next day.

The following Thursday, our last in Ayr, would be no let down in form as we gathered round the TV to watch the creepy Jimmy Saville introduce another new band, called Roxy Music, who a bit like Bowie were like aliens from another planet.
This bunch of misfits had a vocalist who resembled a Jetson’s version of an Elvis impersonator, and an androgynous, Max Wall lookalike playing some sort of box/keyboard, that made weird and wonderful noises.

The rest of the band looked like extras from Star Trek, but just like Bowie, Cooper and Mott, they jumped out of the screen demanding your attention and the music was captivating.

As soon as I got home, I was heading to Woolies for sure.

There were so many highlights on that holiday, I even went to my first gig, to see a band called Chicory Tip. Although we only knew one of their songs, their number one hit “Son of my Father“.

Little did we know at the time that this one hit wonder would be a precursor to Donna Summer’s “I feel Love” and all her 70’s disco hits, as it was written and produced by the legendary Giorgio Moroder. On reflection the little moog synthesiser hook is a giveaway.

Our days at Ayr Racecourse raced by and sadly the adventure came to a close, but the memories of that holiday didn’t end there.

My pal’s family dropped me off at my house on our return and I rang the doorbell to be met by a complete stranger, we both stood there looking at each other for a minute, him wondering who the hell I was, me thinking the same, but with a look of panic etched on my face.

The man broke the deadlock by very reasonably asking what it was I wanted and looked confused when I blurted out, “where’s my Mum”?

It was at this point that the penny must have dropped when he saw my holdall, sleeping bag and crushed look and said “Ah, we just moved in here a few days ago son, you must be part of the family we bought the house from”.

Yep, my family had moved and had forgotten to tell me.

Having moved myself a few times over the years now, I know it’s stressful and I know there’s a long to-do list, but we usually remember to take the kids with us.

I remembered there had been talk of moving as I had been told to keep my room tidy for people viewing the house a few months prior, but the fine details and timelines had not been important to a 13-year-old who expected to be packed and transported with the Tupperware, plus like I said, I never got the memo!

The new house was only half a mile away and as I made my way there, I got excited about the prospect of my new home and all that that entailed and reflected on the great holiday I had just experienced.
I had spent time away from my loved ones for the first time but with people who had welcomed me into their family with open arms.
I had experienced much independence, went to my first gig, kissed a girl, had an amazing time and on top of all that, I had all these great songs washing around in my head.

Further grown-up adventures obviously lay in wait, but for my 14-year-old self, this was the perfect summer holiday.