We don’t have the biggest house in the world. It has two bedrooms, a small courtyard, and a bathroom that makes airline toilets feel palatial. So when we were planning our holiday, I think subconsciously we thought “what will make our home feel massive by comparison?”.
This is how we ended up in a caravan.
I know! A caravan. It defies belief. I spent most childhood holidays in one of these infernal vehicles. The cramped conditions, the lack of privacy, elderly folk everywhere, and the scary communal bathroom. I swore I’d never do this again if I had a choice.
And yet, here I am. In a caravan. No, it’s unthinkable.
We’re staying at a caravan park across the road from a beach. It was a regular holiday choice for our family, so I’m very familiar with the area.
In fact, everything feels familiar. There’s precious little space (especially now with a travel cot), there’s no time alone, and it feels vaguely like we’ve infiltrated a retirement village.
But I’m constantly reminded of my childhood – the sand on the caravan floor, the smells, the sounds, the enforced cuddly closeness. Being in a caravan again transports me back to a time of perpetual sunshine, running around with my siblings with not a care in the world except “when are we going to the beach again?”.
Yesterday had been a lazy day at the beach, just playing and relaxing. My son had thrilled at the new sensations the beach offered, looking delighted as the tiny waves crashed over his feet.
Later, back at the caravan, my husband and I finished the day sitting under the awning with beers, crackers and cheese. We sat and chatted and watched the daylight fade. It was a good day.
Then last night, I lay in bed listening to my husband and son sleeping and the waves crashing in the distance and, god help me, I felt happy. I felt like I was home.
So that’s it, I am past hope. Shoot me.
When I see you on Tuesday night I am going to slap you several times acroos the face, throw a bucket of cold water over you and then provide you with a list of all the extremely good reasons we a) no longer live in our home town and b) why caravans suck butt. Now, take a long , hard look at yourself young lady. I am very disappointed in you …
Next I’ll be taking up bowls, for god’s sake! And saying things like ‘blimey’ and ‘shivers’ instead of swearing – but NOT in an ironic, kitchy way.
Crumbs. (OH NO!)