{"id":1026490,"date":"2026-06-14T17:41:28","date_gmt":"2026-06-14T17:41:28","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/uk\/1026490\/"},"modified":"2026-06-14T17:41:28","modified_gmt":"2026-06-14T17:41:28","slug":"the-original-instagram-vs-reality-inside-the-day-trips-you-were-lucky-to-survive","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/uk\/1026490\/","title":{"rendered":"The original Instagram vs Reality: Inside the day trips you were lucky to survive"},"content":{"rendered":"

Between the two world wars, the working classes went mad for a new form of leisure activity \u2013 day-trips by charabanc. The forerunners of modern day coach tours could be uncomfortable and even dangerous, but they left a rich legacy of memories. Report by Eugene Byrne<\/strong> , our man asking the driver to pull over for yet another quick stop.<\/p>\n

Open a local newspaper from any part of the country in the 1920s and 30s and you\u2019ll find photos of local social groups, church groups, factory workers and Sunday school kids all posing for their picture in, or in front of, a long and roofless vehicle.<\/p>\n

They were about to go for a day at the seaside or some beauty-spot, and it seems to have been an essential part of any such outing to have a group photo taken before setting off.<\/p>\n

Open those same newspapers from the 1970s to the 1990s and you\u2019ll find the same pictures being reproduced once more in nostalgia articles or in the readers\u2019 letters pages.<\/p>\n

Between the two world wars, it was a disappointing summer indeed if you didn\u2019t have at least one charabanc trip. They were affordable for all but the poorest, though the middle classes rather looked down their noses at this mass-tourism, preferring to do their day-tripping by car.<\/p>\n

All gone, all nearly forgotten now. There will be some Bristol Times readers who might remember going on a trip or two when they were very young, but not many.<\/p>\n

The charabanc is so almost-forgotten that most people under the age of 40 don\u2019t even know how to pronounce the word.<\/p>\n

Don\u2019t worry. Nobody did back then either. To most people it was \u201csharra-bang\u201d, though if you were being posh and trying to sound French, it was \u201csharra-bong.\u201d<\/p>\n

The char-a-banc originated in France, the name simply meaning a coach or carriage with benches. The first ones were horse-drawn and by the mid-19th century they had become popular with the upper classes as a way of transporting groups to things like horse races or shooting parties. Queen Victoria had one (probably more than one, actually.) They were handy for the races and big events as they were high up and so gave a good view of the action.<\/p>\n

They progressed down the social ladder; by the 1890s horse-drawn charabancs were a common sight at seaside towns and other visitor attractions where, for a few pennies, they\u2019d take you on a little tour.<\/p>\n

\"By<\/p>\n

By the 1890s horse-drawn charabancs had moved down the social ladder. This picture was probably taken in Torbay(Image: Wikimedia Commons)<\/p>\n

Everything changed, though, with the arrival of the newfangled motorised ones just before the First World War. They could carry more passengers for longer distances and more cheaply.<\/p>\n

In Bristol by 1914 many people of modest means might well have had a charabanc outing or two. Weston-super-Mare was an understandably popular destination, while trips to Aust and New Passage seem to have been a big favourite for summer evenings (was this because the pubs stayed open later there than in Bristol?) For many people, this would be their first ever experience of motor travel.<\/p>\n

Some of the firms offering charabanc tours were transport companies who in the winter months were running lorries on the same chassis, switching over the body for the summer season.<\/p>\n

The Bristol Tramways and Carriage Company, which already operated the city\u2019s trams and taxis had a small fleet of charabancs by August 1914.<\/p>\n

On Monday August 3, a Bank Holiday and the day before war was declared, the firm took more than 150 passengers on day-trips to Wells and Cheddar. But 22 much more adventurous souls gathered at the Tramways Centre at 8.45am to head off to Budleigh Salterton and Exmouth.<\/p>\n

They knew full well that not much of the day would be spent enjoying the seaside; most of the time they would be bumping up and down on wooden seats, but they would of course be able to enjoy the countryside. Besides, the prospect of a few bruises was trivial compared to the sheer scale of the adventure, and of the tales they would be able to tell about it when they got home.<\/p>\n

This 185-mile round-trip was the most daring that the company had yet attempted, and everything went well. The passengers were safely returned to the Tramways Centre at 11 that night. This was an achievement considered worthy of a write-up in the local papers the following day, though as they were coming off the presses, it was Britain\u2019s declaration of war on Germany that consumed everyone\u2019s attention. No-one was interested in how Uncle George and Auntie Mabel had been to Devon and back in a day.<\/p>\n

During the First World War, Bristol had several hospitals for the treatment and recuperation of wounded soldiers and voluntary groups, notably the Inquiry Bureau, a local organisation helping wounded men and their families, organised charabanc outings.<\/p>\n

So did the Bishop\u2019s Knoll Hospital, set up by businessman Robert Bush and his wife Marjery. Bush had made his fortune in Australia and now converted his home into a hospital specifically for wounded Australian soldiers.<\/p>\n

The outings for wounded men, though, stopped fairly early on during the war as petrol became harder to obtain.<\/p>\n

\"An<\/p>\n

An outing for wounded Australian men from the Bishop\u2019s Knoll hospital during the First World War. Robert Bush, who had made his fortune in Australia, spared no effort and expense for their comfort(Image: Bristol Post)<\/p>\n

The charabancs chugged and spluttered their way back in the inter-war years, laying on excursions for neighbourhood groups, churches, Sunday schools, trade unions, social clubs, orphanages, the regulars of local pubs and more. All but the most tight-fisted employers would organise an annual summer outing, too.<\/p>\n

And often \u2013 perhaps nearly always! \u2013 the day started with a group photograph.<\/p>\n

\"The<\/p>\n

The original image of those Bedminster factory girls ‘on tour'(Image: Bristol Post)<\/p>\n

The golden age of outings and day-trips by charabanc was relatively short-lived, really only from the years before the First World War until the start of the Second.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s not hard to see why. Most of these vehicles had solid rubber tyres and passengers sat on wooden benches. On rough country roads it was enough to shake anyone\u2019s bones out of place.<\/p>\n

They were usually open-topped, though often with a canvas roof that could be pulled over the passengers if it rained. This was heavy work, and the gentlemen among the travellers were expected to lend a hand. If the rainfall was heavy, everyone might be soaked before the covering was in place.<\/p>\n

Most had doors along the sides to allow you to clamber onto the bench you\u2019d be sharing with two, three or more other people. But some didn\u2019t even rise to that level of sophistication; you had to clamber in over the sides on a ladder.<\/p>\n

The engines weren\u2019t always that powerful. If you were going up a steep hill it might be that the gentlemen, or in extremis every able-bodied passenger, would have to get out and push.<\/p>\n

Charabancs could also be dangerous. They had a high centre of gravity, and a driver taking a sharp corner too quickly ran the risk of his vehicle overturning, sometimes with tragic results, all the worse because there was no roof. Keep reading for more on that…<\/p>\n

\"Sea<\/p>\n

Sea Mills Mission Church ladies, 1930(Image: Mirrorpix)<\/p>\n

There were some roads that no charabanc should ever try to tackle, and around the country local councils or concerned private citizens started putting up signs saying so.<\/p>\n

Some readers might remember seeing a sign near Wookey Hole which said \u201cThis road is unsuitable for charabancs\u201d. It was to warn drivers against the narrow, winding lane to Priddy, and it was there for almost a century, left as a curiosity long after the charabancs were gone. Sadly, it was stolen some years ago.<\/p>\n

\"The<\/p>\n

The East Street Women\u2019s Bible Class off for the day in 1924(Image: Bristol Post)<\/p>\n

By the later 1930s the charabancs were being replaced by more comfortable (and roofed!) motor coaches and they never came back. But despite the hazards and the discomfort, they left plenty of memories in their wake. Not just the group photos, but also the tales of what an adventure an outing could be, especially if anything went wrong.<\/p>\n

Interviewed by the Post many years ago, one local man recalled an excursion organised by the Redfield Brotherhood, a men\u2019s organisation based at Redfield Methodist Church. This was in 1922, and for the first time, the Brotherhood decided that its summer outing would be by newfangled charabanc, rather than the horse-drawn brakes they had previously hired.<\/p>\n

The destination was Ilfracombe, with planned stops for coffee at Highbridge and lunch at South Molton. Six vehicles, each carrying 30 people, set off that morning.<\/p>\n

The problem was that one of them broke down, and so all stopped as the drivers didn\u2019t want to be split up in case some of them got lost. So they arrived in South Molton at tea-time.<\/p>\n

The narrow country roads were very dusty and the vehicles were noisy. They spooked the cattle in nearby fields. Two of the charabancs got charged by bulls, though with no casualties.<\/p>\n

When at last they reached Ilfracombe there was only time for a quick toilet-stop because it was now time to come back again. And that\u2019s when the problems really started.<\/p>\n

This was 1922; there was no road infrastructure worth talking about, and there were certainly no street lights. Two of the charabancs had acetylene lamps, while the others had oil lamps which were nowhere near as powerful as the headlights on a modern car.<\/p>\n

Nor did the drivers have any maps to help them navigate the dark country lanes, so at every crossroads they had to stop and someone had to get out with an oil lamp to read the signpost.<\/p>\n

The first charabanc got home by about midnight. The last one limped home at 11am the following morning just as everyone else from the Redfield Methodist congregation was going to church.<\/p>\n

The West Harptree tragedy<\/p>\n

One of the worst charabanc accidents in the region occurred on Sunday July 26 1925 when 24 men from Bristol went on a \u201cmystery tour\u201d courtesy of the Country Maid, a vehicle owned by a Mr Bott of Pipe Lane.<\/p>\n

The men were all from the Redfield area, regular or occasional patrons of the Three Crowns Inn on Blackswarth Road. They set off at 8.30am, going through Keynsham and Hallatrow and stopping at East Harptree. They had brought some beer with them \u2013 about a pint for each man \u2013 in jars, but they did not drink at any pubs on the way.<\/p>\n

They then went on to the top of West Harptree Hill and started descending slowly.<\/p>\n

Survivors recalled the vehicle picking up speed as it went down the hill and the driver shouting \u201cthe brakes are gone wrong!\u201d<\/p>\n

There was a sharp turn at the bottom of the hill, and in trying to get round it, the charabanc overturned.<\/p>\n

Some of the men were thrown clear, but others were pinned underneath it. Only one man, William Woodington, died immediately.<\/p>\n

Local witnesses sent for the police and improvised a rescue operation, and the St John\u2019s Ambulance brigade was called out from Bristol. The driver of a car which pulled up behind got out a jack which was used to lift up the charabanc to release the trapped victims.<\/p>\n

\"The<\/p>\n

The aftermath of the West Harptree tragedy which took the lives of eight men from the Redfield\/St George area(Image: Bristol Post)<\/p>\n

Over the coming hours, four more men died of their injuries at the Bristol General Hospital. The eventual death toll would be eight, the last man dying at the hospital two months later. Many would be buried at Greenbank Cemetery.<\/p>\n

There were two inquests, one at West Harptree near the spot where William Woodington had died, and another at Bristol as the other men had died in hospital.<\/p>\n

Experts righted the vehicle and examined it, and the brakes were tested following repairs and found to be working properly. Verdicts of accidental death were recorded, but while the Bristol jury said that the driver, William Bedford, had to take some of the blame, the Somerset one completely exonerated him.<\/p>\n

Some of the dead were elderly and retired, but others were not; one man left a wife and seven children, and a relief fund was started to help the families of the dead. It raised over \u00a3500 in a few weeks.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Between the two world wars, the working classes went mad for a new form of leisure activity \u2013…\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":1026491,"comment_status":"","ping_status":"","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":"","_share_on_mastodon":"0"},"categories":[8818],"tags":[10139,381,14720,748,393,4884,29121,11653,16,15,11158],"class_list":["post-1026490","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","category-bristol","tag-bedminster","tag-bristol","tag-bristol-nostalgia","tag-britain","tag-england","tag-great-britain","tag-keynsham","tag-premium","tag-uk","tag-united-kingdom","tag-weston-super-mare"],"share_on_mastodon":{"url":"https:\/\/pubeurope.com\/@uk\/116749696346943741","error":""},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/uk\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1026490","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/uk\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/uk\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/uk\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/uk\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1026490"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/uk\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1026490\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/uk\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/1026491"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/uk\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1026490"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/uk\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1026490"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/uk\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1026490"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}