So the day dawned. It was actually a bright day after the recent windy and wet nonsense that we’d been enjoying. I can’t remember the exact configuration of the journey, but definitely me Dad took us four boys. There wouldn’t have been much room for anybody else in the car, but I have vague memories of it being a bit of a family day out.
I didn’t write anything in my diary for the next few days, save for noting that I was on
H O L I D A Y H O L I D A Y H O L I D A Y H O L I D A Y H O L I D A Y H O L I D A Y
What follows are my memories of the expedition.
We arrived around lunchtime and pitched the tent in the sandy soil of the campsite. It was a blisteringly hot day by now, with a gentle cooling breeze coming off the sea. As the responsible adult or adults left us we got down to the business of being young boys on holiday. Obviously not drinkers, well we were a couple of 16 year olds and a 14 and a 12 year old, and these WERE innocent times believe it or not.
The beach was only yards away, so we probably went there for the afternoon to play football, go paddling etc. You know the drill, the usual seaside-y holiday-y fun. Then it must have been back to camp for a slap up camping tea – some form of tinned all day breakfast no doubt! As the afternoon gave way to evening we probably went out for a bit of an explore before settling down for the night and a good night’s kip before another day of sand based fun and frolic.