As a diversion from the news of today, it was pure nostalgia to read the recent correspondence on the Slipper Baths located in Park Street and Cobden Road, Brighton. What memories were rekindled of those bygone experiences.

For young men "downstairs, please" and ladies "upstairs", the Saturday late afternoon visit set the foundation for the weekend activity.

It was the same weekly routine for me - Saturday afternoon at the Goldstone, First Team or the reserves, home for a cuppa, pick up your soap and flannel, then off to the baths - a five-minute walk.

If I remember rightly, you paid either sixpence (6d) and got a coarse huckaback towel or ninepence and received a Turkish towel. You waited your turn to be summoned to one of the dozen cubicles.

I always treated myself to the 9d experience plus the luxury of a penny bathcube purchased from the kiosk.

If my pal's mum was on duty in the kiosk, the bathcube was usually with the compliments of the management.

You then entered the steamy environment, took a seat, counted how many bathers were in the queue and hoped you'd be out in good time to enjoy the evening. You were allowed about half-an-hour to finish your ablutions, at which time the attendant would start hammering on the door (in case you'd fallen asleep) and politely inform you "Come on number 7, your time's up!".

You would then vacate the cubicle, slip the attendant a tip if you had had a good week, and ... wow the scene was set, the night was young.

-Royston Aloysius Hillers, Hove