Ahhhh those were the days, when the only way of communicating with someone who didn’t live within a five-mile radius was to use the local phone box.

How many of you can remember the unforgettable aroma as you pulled open that ridiculously heavy door and it hit you . . . a mixture of stale cigarettes and wee.

I wonder if any well-known candle companies have ever thought of adding the fragrance “70s Phone Box” to their candle collection?

There you stood, with all of the dialling codes on the wall in front of you, armed with your bag of 2ps which weighed a ton.

Or, if you were lucky enough to be phoning a mate who was well off, you’d give them the phone box number and they’d call you back – much to the annoyance of the seven people standing in the queue outside!

Can you remember the feeling of running out of change and the ‘pips’ going, so you had about 30 seconds to cram in as much of the end of your conversation as you could?

Magic times, kids have none of this fun nowadays!