Chichester in the 'swinging 60s' was a very sleepy agricultural city.

It seemed to me that while Beatlemania and mini skirts hit the rest of the country Chichester tried its utmost to ignore modernisation and the youth revolution that was going on around it.

In the early 60s fields still surrounded Chichester, especially on the west side where they came right up to the walls.

This was in the days before the Avenue de Chartres and the ring road, but also, blissfully, any major traffic.

After church on a Sunday we would play rounders surrounded by cows, in the field where Chichester College now stands.

The town centre had not yet been shut to traffic then but it was still quiet even though it was chock full of small family owned businesses - H Denyers (draper), Savory & Moore (chemist), A J Faith (jeweller), Smurthwaites (hardware), Elphicks (butcher), and who could forget the smell of freshly-ground coffee emanating from Sharp Garland, the grocery shop in Eastgate square.

Sadlers, my personal favourite - now Sadlers walk - smelt wonderful, with its wooden floors covered with bulging sacks of grain.

Masons Garage - the last to remain in the town - was half way down South Street next to the Bon Bon, a tobacconist and sweet shop, where I had a Saturday morning job.

There was also a fish and chip shop at the top of North Street, where we would buy chips after gym club at Bishop Otter College (Chichester University), eating them on the witches' hat roundabout in the playground under the shadow of the walls next to the Newpark centre.

Chichester for me as a teenager was a very dull and old-fashioned place to live. During the week everything shut at 5.30pm except Sunday when nothing was open at all, unless of course you were old enough to go to the pub.

We did, however, have a few things to keep us amused - for one there was the Granada cinema. If you paid for the first showing you could stay as long as you liked - as long as you kept your head down. I forget how many times I watched Summer Holiday with Cliff Richard, or the Beatles films.

The busiest day of the week and the highlight for small children was Wednesday market day. I can remember trudging in macs and wellies to visit the pens of pigs and sheep, along with the other small animals.

Occasionally we would squeeze through the cattle to visit the auction ring where you would suffocate with the smell but be mesmerised by the singsong drone of the auctioneer's voice.

We had regular contact with animals in our house because we lived in Stockbridge road just before the abattoir - now under the Stockbridge roundabout.

Herds of cows regularly walked past our house on their way from the railway station to the slaughterhouse.

My parents swore they knew where they were going because if the gate was left open they would make a dash for freedom. Can you imagine that happening today?

I also remember some other animals that were slightly more memorable who arrived by train.

When I was very young Chipperfield's Circus came to town. What an experience that was - elephants, lions, tigers, the lot. Unfortunately a camel spat at Grandma and it ruined her day – she was not best pleased!

I did once go to the Shoreline Club, a major venue in the early 60s. I was heavily- chaperoned by my mother at the time, but that closed before I was old enough to really enjoy it.

I also remember the day Tommy Steele came to town. My mum and I went up to Oaklands Park because he was supposed to be starring in a charity football match there but all I can remember is screaming girls and we never did get to see him.

Also, rumour had it that the Beatles went to the Crypt coffee house one wet Autumn afternoon - while we were all at school (of course) - but I think that was just someone's mischievous prank, unfortunately!