One of my earliest memories - must have been about '56 or '57 - was going to the dairy with one of my elder sisters to buy milk in a tin pot. We got milk in glass bottles with foil caps soon afterwards. There was no milk delivery, but we got all those wonderful small shops within a couple of hundred metres from home: Dairy, fishmonger, butcher, colonial, vegetables market, clothes shops, shoes shops, and everything you'd need. My daddy worked at the fire station, just about five minutes' walk away, and used to come home for lunch.
We had no car, and didn't need one, but in the early Sixties dad bought both a tiny cabin 15 kilometres away and an old Moskwich to bring us there.
In the Seventies the shopping centers came, and one after the other of the small special shops closed up. People got used to need a car for everything.
I remember my mother's aunt, who was the closest thing I ever had to a grandmother, said that she believed all the cars would end up in the junk yard one day, and people would start to use their legs again. It doesn't seem that far-fetched anymore.