Hostel Days: Heaven or Hell? written by Mary Wood

 

I was allocated a place in Ross House Hostel in Dornoch in 1951 at the age of 11 after passing the infamous 11+ exam, a necessary requisite to hostel admission. As my older sister was already a hosteller the transition to hostel life was comparatively easy for me but many girls were, understandably, initially homesick.

We caught the mail bus from Tongue to Lairg, another bus to the station where we boarded a train for the Mound. There we dismounted and joined a very old train which belched out black smoke and travelled at snail’s pace to Dornoch. This train was affectionately, if derogatorily, known as The Coffee Pot. You could have walked faster than the train travelled but with a whole term’s wardrobe in your suitcase walking was not an option! We had to carry our luggage from the train station to the hostel, a considerable distance.

 

There we were met by the matron, a Miss Alexander, known to us all as Lexie. Lexie ran a very tight ship and was very strict, though always fair. Responsible, as she was, for 29 girls, mostly teenagers she probably couldn’t afford to grant us much leeway. She was generally respected by her charges.

Rules were laid out and had to be adhered to. First thing every morning beds, in shared dorms, had to be made, hospital style. Every Saturday morning beds had to be stripped, mattresses turned and beds made again with clean sheets. (Apple-pie beds were an occasional hazard if your bed was left unattended for any length of time on a Birthday or other special occasion.)

 

We were only supposed to wash our hair once a fortnight and matron occasionally insisted on combing it for us with a fine toothcomb in case of nits.

 

Each girl was put in a group for dishwashing on a rota basis. Each spell on duty lasted a week and was obviously very unpopular. Washing up had to be done in strict order, first glasses, then cutlery followed by small plates and finally larger items. Water had to be changed between each course. I was unfortunate to be on house duty when hostel numbers increased to 42. My group had to wash up after 42 breakfasts then rush to the Academy, a long way off, in time to start the school day. Fortunately this duty was soon found to be untenable and domestic staff took over in the mornings.

A town girl was employed to do general domestic work and she was popular because she was always willing to shop for us. Davy Duff was gardener.

Each weekday evening we were obliged to sit in collective silence through an hour of preparation for next day’s lessons, homework as we would now say but then just called “Prep”. I remember dutifully learning lists of Short Dates to pass the time which always seemed interminable.

 

Dirty clothes were sent home once a fortnight and returned parcels were eagerly awaited as they contained our pocket money and usually an edible treat.

 

Food was good but growing girls would have liked more generous portions. My outstanding memory is of roll-mop herring on toast for Sunday tea, not much use to a hungry child who hated fish but it had to be eaten —– or subtly extracted from the dining room!

 

Hostel pupils were obliged to go to Church on Sunday. For some reason, now forgotten, my older sister opted to go to the Free Church and other family members were obliged to follow suit. I would much have preferred to go to the Cathedral as Free Church services were long and boring, though very erudite, relieved only by the surreptitious passing of pandrops supplied every week by Murdo, County Roads Foreman and the only Dornoch resident I got to know in my 6 years there. We also were sent to Free Church Bible class, taken, latterly, by J K Bell who went on to become a popular warden at Earls Cross Hostel.

Hostel girls had to be within the grounds by 5pm in the Winter and 7pm in the Summer. There was no organised entertainment to counteract such restrictions though a small, bumpy tennis court was available for the more sporty. Occasionally Lexie took small groups to her room to listen to classical music. To this day Schubert’s ‘The Trout’ rings in my ears!

 

Romantic liaisons were forbidden and usually consisted of a surreptitious stroll on the Links or beach on a Sunday when you had to be careful not to be seen and reported. The annual school party at Christmas, with an 11pm curfew, was the highlight of the romantic year but I still picture a very large group of girls huddled in the shadows at the hostel gate waiting for the last girl to arrive at 1 minute to 11!

Ross House backed on to the grounds of the Dornoch Hotel which held an annual Ball. Envious faces were pressed to hostel windows after lights went out at 10pm to try to catch a glimpse of the women’s exotic ball gowns and, no doubt, to “spy” on the occasional courting couple!

 

Dornoch must have benefited financially from the presence of 2 hostels but no attempt was made to integrate hostellers into the town. No doubt restrictive hostel rules didn’t help. Nor did the school – which pitched Hostels against The Rest of the School at its annual Sports Day. How divisive is that!

We were given free transport home for the three main school holidays but parents had to organise and finance a bus for the October break. Permission to go home at any time outwith official holidays had to be applied for in writing.

Hostel life, Heaven or Hell? The simple answer is “Neither”, though shades of both must have intermingled from time to time.vParents were separated from children and vice versa but , at the time, a child had to leave home to receive an academic education which was only available on the East coast and a secure, sociable hostel must have been preferable to unsupervised, individual lodgings.

 

Hostels were of their time, part of a genuine attempt to make education more easily available, at least to the academic child. Possibly they were educationally elitist but that was the norm in the 50s. I am the last of 10 children and each of the 3 youngest members of my family earned a place at university and went on to become professionals. I don’t believe that we were any brighter than our older siblings, we simply were lucky enough to be part of a more enlightened educational system and hostel pupils.

Nowadays with wider and ever more enlightened choices hostels have become redundant, rightly so but that does not diminish the important part they played in the lives of pupils and parents in the North and West of Sutherland.