Our Adventurous Camping Holidays

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Throughout our childhood years our family lived a very hand to mouth existence. Consequently there was little money for holidays, but my dad, being a very resourceful man, made sure we went away each year. More often than not these were camping holidays abroad. As my mother was Italian we tried most years to go there and camp near where my grandparents lived. I can honestly say that out of the half a dozen times we aimed for Italy we only actually got there twice.

One year we travelled in a large and very old Ford car. It was an eight-seater which my dad had bought for next to nothing and the five members of my family plus two friends set out on this great adventure. We travelled down from Lancashire to Dover to catch the ferry across to France. We had gone about forty miles when we had our first breakdown. Not easily defeated my dad soon had us on the road again. As we approached Dover and the cross channel ferry our excitement grew to fever pitch. My brothers and I enjoyed exploring every inch of the ship and despite the rough seas we were not sick. Once in France we set off on the long straight roads heading for the Alps. We spent a couple of nights under canvass on route and enjoyed our daily breakfast of tinned sausages and beans cooked on a primus stove. My mother had bought umpteen tins of the stuff.

As we neared southern France, once again the car let us down. The head gasket blew and we were stuck in a village near Rheims for five days over the French national holiday waiting for a new part. Our money was dwindling fast but my dad made sure we saw and experienced so much. We saw the Monte Carlo Rally, we watched horse racing round the streets and we swam in a brook and really enjoyed ourselves.