To Put Away Childish Things #4

Da da dee da deeee daa, da da da dee da da da da deee

Ah I can see it now, waves breaking in glorious monochrome on an empty and decidedly untropical beach*, not unlike the one at Rhyl where we spent so many childhood holidays; captions appearing on the screen - "The Adventures of Robinson Crusoe", "starring Robert Hoffman"; the swelling strings sounding for all the world like a stretched and slipping audio tape as the notes wowed and fluttered their way through the opening credits and under the voiced-over narrative. Yes it was summer holiday time and the apparently interminable Robinson Crusoe was on daily throughout the whole six weeks. Though it seems from my brief researching that there were only thirteen episodes, my memory is that not only was it on every summer, and every day of every summer it lasted so long that I had always gone back to school before managing to see the end of it. There must have been, my memory tells me, falsely , dozens and dozens of episodes. And I really never did see the final one. For all I know poor old Robinson is probably still on the island now, patiently waiting for me to buy the DVD and watch the end.
Children's television in those days was very different to now and the summer holiday schedules were repeated year after year. I'd outgrown the childishness of Watch With Mother (Andy Pandy, The Woodentops**, Tales of the Riverbank et al) and moved on to the altogether more sophisticated continental fare of Robinson Crusoe, The Singing Ringing Tree, White Horses. They were all bought in from overseas (usually Germany, but in the case of Robinson Crusoe it was France), all very badly dubbed into English, all filling the endless rainy days of my early holidays.
But it's that musical score that sticks most in the memory***. It was hypnotic and the frequency of the episodes and the fact that it played throught most of the running time in the background drilled it so solidly into my brain that if I live to be a thousand it will never be forgotten. More than anyhting else it is the soundtrack of my early years. Even now writing about it, I find I am uncontrollably humming "da da da da deeeee daa". I'll probably be unable to sleep tonight as it rattles around in my head.

* though the beach itself was, apparently, in Gran Canaria

** and I still remember the "biggest spottiest dog you ever did see" with a great deal of fondness.

*** and it seems I'm not the only one, Art of Noise covered one of the other "popular" sections of the soundtrack.