My brother and I would catch a bus into town, then line up outside the Kine 600, slowly inching our way forward, usually having friends jump the queue by coming over to say hello, then staying in the line.
Once inside, the thick red carpets and the smell of hotdogs would assail your senses. This was the cool dark interior of a world of fantasy, a world where magic and miracles happened, and where the good guys always won.
Our arms laden with cokes, slushies and popcorn, we would seat either right at the front, with necks stretched back through the whole movie, or right at the back, if we were lucky, or old enough, to have a �chick� meet us there. Coloured usherettes would bring latecomers in, little torches bobbing in the darkness, and the long stream of forthcoming attractions and adverts for ice-cream would stream past, whilst the speakers vibrated from the sound-track.
Interval would create a huge pile-up and bottleneck, and you could usually get away without paying for a coke or lunch-bar in the confusion. Finally the movie or cartoons, with the usual popcorn fight of bubblegum on the seat to help with the fun.
After the movie we would step outside into the bright glare of the sun, standing there blinking for a few seconds before going to sit on the pavement, re-living the adventure we had just seen. If we still had some money, we would often buy fish-balls and chips from the Portuguese take-away next door, then walk to the bus-stop or wait for our parents to take us home.