Eamonn Holmes shares his fondest seaside memories as he backs Mirror campaign

Watching The Open on the north coast of Antrim recently, and hearing so many people say it was one of the most beautiful coastlines they had seen, made me very proud.

Because the Antrim coast in Northern Ireland was the Holmes family stomping ground when I was growing up.

The 50-mile drive out of Belfast along one of the world’s most scenic coast roads was always exciting.

Our mode of transport was my father’s carpet van. No seatbelts – my elder brother Leonard, younger brother Brian and I were protected from being buffeted about by a roll of underfelt.

Our destination: the beaches of Carnlough, Portstewart, Portrush, Waterfoot, Ballycastle, and our regular haunt Cushendall at the foot of the Glens of Antrim.

Preparation for the seaside involved using pester power to persuade our mum and dad to take us to Woolworths for buckets, spades and fishing nets attached to bamboo sticks.

In my day we had metal buckets, which were useless because water always seeped out but we still loved playing with them.

Our trunks were from Woolworths too – a brand called Ladybird. They were leopard print and we all pretended to be Tarzan because my dad told us they were made from cheetah skin.

We used the nets in rock pools around Cushendall, and finding a starfish was a thrill.

My dad would eat willicks – maybe they’re known as whelks in England. Seafood was a statement for us.

We would be given dulse, or dried seaweed, as a treat rather than a bag of crisps.

The pictures here are from 1965 or 1966, when I was six, Brian was five and Leonard was 10. In our day, the pictures were from a camera bought at the chemist’s with a 12 or 24-roll film.

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