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.
