There was a time when the British seaside hotel stood at the centre of the family holiday. Guests arrived by coach, cases piled high, ready for a week of full English breakfasts, evening entertainment, bingo, organised outings, and unpredictable weather. The accommodation was rarely luxurious, but that was part of the experience.
During the 1970s and 1980s, seaside towns such as Margate welcomed thousands of holidaymakers every summer. Large hotels offered an affordable escape for families, couples, and older travellers. Guests often returned to the same place each year, building friendships with staff and fellow visitors.
Standards were very different from those expected today. Some hotels advertised hot and cold running water as though it were the height of luxury. Toilets were shared between several rooms. Showers might stand in the corner of a bedroom with little privacy. Thin carpets, nylon sheets, temperamental lifts, electric fires, and mismatched furniture were common sights.
Entertainment was equally memorable. A typical week might include a jazz band, a film night, cash bingo, a resident singer, fancy dress, and a final night party. The performers were not always talented, but they gave guests something to talk about long after the holiday ended.
Behind the cheerful brochures was a demanding industry. Family run hotels relied on relatives and seasonal staff working long hours. Kitchens were hot and chaotic. Coach parties could arrive early, rooms might not be ready, and guests expected every problem to be solved immediately. Staff survived through loyalty, arguments, practical jokes, and a shared ability to laugh when everything went wrong.
The success of the traditional seaside hotel could not last forever. Affordable flights gave British families access to warmer destinations. Package holidays offered guaranteed sunshine, modern rooms, private bathrooms, and new experiences. Many coastal towns struggled to compete. Hotels closed, changed hands, or became flats and retirement homes.
Michael Pellegrini’s Certainly Sir. Up Yours! returns readers to this disappearing world through the fictional Savoy Court Hotel in Margate. Inspired by his years in hospitality, the book follows an overpowering hotel owner, his reluctant family, eccentric employees, demanding guests, disastrous coach parties, kitchen pranks, and entertainment that has to be seen to be believed.
Bold, rude, and unapologetically British, the book remembers an era when hotels were imperfect, tempers were short, and every working day produced another outrageous story.
