We have just returned from a holiday on which we drove to Portugal through France and Spain. In recent years we have flown away on holiday so this was a return to our roots.
Motoring along the fairly quiet French motorways and smaller roads listening to Best of Queen, Simon and Garfunkel and Elton John took us back to holidays in the 70s, 80s and 90s.
My husband took me camping for the first time in the sweltering summer of 1976 so of course I was sold on how wonderful it is to sleep in a tent on dry balmy nights. We bought a tent called an igloo, with rubber tubes at the corners inflated by a foot pump and managed to cram all we needed into our small MG Midget.
But then he took me to Wales. For a week in Bala followed by a week in Brecon it rained non-stop. It was time to buy a very slightly bigger car and a trailer tent. By this time we had two children and they loved the freedom of camping too.
After an August holiday by Loch Lomond, when we found frost on the tent at night, we moved on to a VW camper. Now we were kings of the road, driving to Switzerland, Germany, Holland and all over France with our own cooker, sink and a bracket on the side of the roof for the windsurfer.
These days we drive to hotels but there is nothing like the freedom of the open road.