Camping as a child
One of the big differences about summer vacations between the UK and here, is that families will always take a 2 week summer vacation somewhere and not the typical US 1 week. For me growing up, my parents loved to go camping in their big 6 person totally fabulous tent. My sister and I loved it!!! My parents had camping down to a precise art and it was a seamless change from sleeping at home to sleeping in the tent. They made camping look so easy, that now as a parent looking back I wonder how they did it without losing their minds!!
When my sister and I were little we spent two summers in France. I don't remember much outside of watching the huge stag beetles climb the trees next to our tent and going to the boulangerie in the morning and buying 2 of the most amazing tasting fresh french loaves of bread. Two loaves so we could eat one on the way home and the second would be for lunch. I can still remember the taste of that bread 40 years later.
My Dad tells a story of how wonderful the French people at the small village next to the campsite were. My sister and I would take a few Francs and walk unaccompanied to the sweet shop and come back with a lot more than we had money for. The sweet shop owner loved my sister and I so would treat us and then escort us back to my Dad who had quietly followed us but stayed far enough to allow it to be an adventure for her and I.
After the 2 summers in France we then headed closer to home to Cornwall for our holidays. The tent had a huge eat in area and a full bump out section that was for the kitchen area. My Mum would use a propane tank that connected to a 2 burner cook top. She created wonderful hearty meals for us everyday unless we got a treat a fish and chips. Cornish pasties were our favourite that we would eat down by the sea sitting on a harbour wall in a beautiful little fishing village somewhere in Cornwall.
Back then we only had either hand crank flashlights, battery lights or a mini propane lantern. The lantern always made a hissing noise as it burned and as my sister and I went to bed every night that is the noise I remember falling asleep too.
The photo is of Mevagissey, Cornwall. Beautiful historic fishing village.