Hop Picking Days
My earliest recollection of hop picking was when i was a little girl,i loved my nan dearly and was always with her,we were sitting in the front room when the letter box flipped,with an air of excitement nan said that may be the hopping letter.The letters to go hop picking were sent out in about june for u to go in late july when the schools ended for summer. I heard her shout with great delight it is our letter…..The next thing she was on to her sister have u got ur letter Kit she said,sure kit had got her letter too..The next thing was to get the men in the family to go down to kent where the hopfields were to decorate our little huts,there was a big green common and the tin huts were on the outskirts all connected to one another,our huts however were just like the delightful little changing huts u get at the seaside and great pride was taken to make them look very comfortable and homely..the next thing was to order the lorry to take us all down to kent ,u had to get in early otherwise there would be no lorrys going half the house went on these lorries bedsteads and all..The next thing was to start packing everything we would need for a 6 week stay,the only time us kids would see green grass and animals.At last the day came for us to go and it was such a happy day we all jumped on the lorry wherever we could get and off we went.
Singing all the way down there we used to stop at a halfway house where we used to have refreshments..they had fruit machines in there and us kids used to play on them with our pennies.
Off again we went went singing merrily”when u go down hopping knock at number one see old mother riley doing up her bun”then all the other numbers up untill about ten..used to keep us kids occupied,
At last we had come to the end of out trip,the grown ups used to tell us to go play why they sorted everything out,we used to go in the middle of the common and rekindle with all our friends that we hadnt seen for a year,there were big bundles of wood so just for that one day u were allowed to take as many as u wanted,the other days they delivered to u ur allowance,They used to put the beds up and fill the matress covers from the bails of hay every now and again finding a nest of little white mice amongst it which they proptly disposed of.At the end of the first day we all went to bed and slept like babies.
The next day everyone was up very early to do the first day of picking,for anyone that dosent know about hops they were on bines,u had to pull these bines and pick the hops into a bin,they had to be picked clean with not many leaves in them.sometimes a bine would get stuck so u had what was called”Polepullers”they were mostly dockers who all by a funny coincidence became ill and had to go sick at hop picking time,yes they used to pull those sickies even in those days.when the hard day was over we all went home..had some dinner and in the evening used to sit around the big fire singing and waiting for our jacket potatoes to cook,they were black when they came out but we still ate them.
Quite near our huts there was a delightful path that led to a little shop and the pub.we didnt go with our parents they used to stay at home and work,but at the weekends when they came down everybody used to go to the pub,i remember with fondness when my grandad and an old uncle used to get so drunk they would fall down a ditch on the way home,the funniest thing was no one used to pay much attention to them and would carry on walking home.
The next thing we come to is the scrumping, there were two orchids either side of this little path i was telling u about…the farmer and his tractor used to have to come out of one half of the orchid to the other with his apples in boxes,us kids used to wait for him and all jump the tractor,poor man didnt stand a chance,we didnt do it for the apples it was just fun.
Nan and all the hoppers used to get paid at the end of the six weeks so us kids used to get a percentage if we helped.
I remember all the lovely things that were just growing in the hedges for us to pick..cobnuts blackberries mint in abundance and the delicious sausages and steak we used to eat from the local butcher in the town.I really could write a book about all our adventures us kids from london had in the country and will never forget it ever..I just wanted to share a little bit of it with u and hope that u enjoy it half as much as we did.
That must be a wonderful memory moggs,and what fun you had. It was a pleasure to read 🙂
would like to chat as i lived on a hop farm in kent, so all you wrote brought back a lot of memories
Thanks for ur comment Tinks… Back in the 50s London was a pretty grim smoggy place to be living… So u can imagine how lovely it was to be breathing fresh air.and exploring the wonders of the country side.
Moggy what a beautiful account.Hop picking or ‘opping, as Londoners say, was my holiday in the 60s.I mainly went to Hawkhurst , Yalding or Paddock Wood.. Going back generations, my parents,grandparents and great grandparents beforehand, had all gone for 6 weeks from September and I have donated many family artifacts and family photos to the Hop Farm and other museums. It was a real holiday in those times to get out of South East London and I am very lucky I still live next to the Garden of England. Every second weekend in Sept, there is an hoppers reunion in Bodiam, near the castle,in East Sussex, and you can get the steam train from Tenterden. It is a brilliant day or weekend out. There are even authentic Hoppers huts still there and kitted out exactly as you described.Some of the hoppers farms are still there and even recognizable from years ago.You look back and realise just how poor we all were.. All in the same boat.Later, I went fruit picking at Wateringbury for six weeks at a time. When driving through Kent, you still get a smell of fresh fruit,grass, dew and wood smoke occasionally, which throws you back down the tunnels of time.Sadly, those days are well gone.
Thank u illgner we went paddock wood and i went to bodiam once.I have pics as well..still live in london and i love it..x
Loved your story moggy. I saw some hop farms in Tasmania when I lived there. I would imagine they would be the same. I would love to see the English countryside.
moggy i really loved reading your story was so enjoyably,gives me an insight to life
t hanks
over there.we had nothing like that here in australia.
Thank u Forever and Mac glad u enjoyed it
Nice bit of history mogs, I never went ‘opping, but I know others who did. Talking to a friend of mine who runs a brewery the other night, and hops are worth their weight in gold , so few grown now. Did you bpick into huge baskets – 5 bushel, I think they were?
Twiggs the hops were mesured in bushels,and yes baskets were used,and god help a measurer who took too many hops..”all out on strike”haha i should have mentioned about the baskets..
I was reminiscing with my mum all day about the days of ‘opping. It hits you what a ruddy hard life our parents and family before them had.. We stayed on the guiness farm and clover and little Broadlands. All still there and very recognizable even after all these years. Wasn’t, or rather didn’t life seem so much better then – or is that me and my rose coloured specs again lol
Illgner theres always a nice warm feeling when u think about hopping,and yes it makes u wonder how they managed the washing and cooking..we even had meat puddings however they managed i really dont know..But i think some of the fun things and banter that went on down there overtook all the hard work,illy i really could write a book my blog was just a tiny corner of all our adventures,and as i said in my blog i will remember them always with lots of love..We were on roden farm illy,but used to go to whitbreads on sunday for church…
Moggy, you should write a book. Every year I go to the ‘oppers weekend, there are fewer and fewer people that have actually experienced the life. There are more and more youngsters that attend of course but they are only learning by what thy see, hear or most importantly read, so the more first hand accounts that are around the better. Some kids just cannot believe that all this was still very common just 40 years ago and not in the days of old! It is vital for our heritage that this is never forgotten. Start with your blogs!. I thoroughly enjoyed reading it and I would love to read some more..illy x
thank u illy,i will do some more blogs,u are right the youngsters should know about it..I wonder how many know that hops go in their beer
Moggz x
Lovely blogg Moggy – I could feel the excitement in your story – lovely memory.
Hi Moggs….good to see you. I haven’t been here in well over a year (except a couple of times in October). I liked your blog. I may be in chat room occasionally, not sure. Hope all is well.
Hey Jay,hope to see u again,happy that u are well