Penny-in-the-Slot Machine

In the Olden Days of the 1960s, there was an amusement arcade in Tenby, discreetly hidden behind the walkways up the cliffs of North Beach.

I loved it. My mother disapproved of it, and had no interest in it, but the Communist was often up for an hour's gambling on the Penny Falls, and hang the cost: sometimes we lost as much as half a crown (that's twelve and a half pence to all you youngsters).

I was never interested in the fruit machines because I liked to have at least the idea that you might have a bit of control over the result. And hence I liked the Penny Falls. You rolled a penny - an old penny, much bigger than the tiddly little current ones - down a groove with the aim of position it, upon landing, so that it pushed a whole heap of other pennies over the edge of a small precipice and into your possession.

Oh, the joy of getting it right and watching them fall! And the particular joy of watching someone else who had got a whole pile of them teetering on the edge, and then given up. The second he turned his back I'd be in there at top speed, trying to persuade the lot to hurtle into my greedy grasp. The thrilling sound as - say - tenpence clattered down and became mine!

The other thing I liked there were the old penny-in-the-slot machines, like this:

You put one penny in the slot at the top, then turned the silver knob, bottom left, until a little silver ball came out. Then you used the knob, bottom right, to flick the ball and if you did it right then it would go down one of the "Win" slots and you'd get another go. A penny bought you about six balls and if you were highly skilled - as - (modest cough) - I was! - you could keep it going all afternoon at the total cost of one penny.

Even in the 1960s these machines seemed rather old-fashioned, and hardly anyone except me used to play on them. They lurked in a dark corner of the arcade, well away from those more sophisticated machines where you could drive a car on a track or use a grabby thing to fail to pick up a cuddly toy.

Finally, in the early 1970s when the currency changed, they were taken away. I missed them.

And then this week an identical machine - it may even be one of the ones I remember - popped up again in Tenby! It was great to put my hands on it and my hands immediately remembered just how to turn the dial on the left and just at what speed to flick the one on the right!

Suddenly, it was as though a gap in time - one which encompassed all games from the glorious Pong (electronic table tennis, sadly mocked by modern youth) to Space Invaders to Playstations - had closed, and I was ten again. Woohoo!

Then I remembered where I was, and where the penny-in-the-slot-machine now lives.

We were in the museum. Yes, since you ask, I did feel suddenly rather old.