"I-spy on A Train Journey", because we always went by train. We didn't have a car until I was 13 and my sister and I were always sick on coach journeys. So we had to go to somewhere that was on a direct line from Leicester and had enough to keep us happy for a week. This meant Great Yarmouth, Skegness, Blackpool (until we all had diarrhoea and sickness) and Weston-super-Mare (but only once, as we had incredibly bad weather, which put everyone off, plus Mum complained that we got muddy on the beach.) When I was 10, we got a bit more adventurous and went to the Isle of Wight, which we all decided was lovely despite the hassle of changing trains.
Sometimes we went in guest houses but gradually switched over to caravans and chalets. Mum disliked the formality in guest houses - making small talk in the lounge, keeping us quiet and constantly on our best behaviour - and said that it was much nicer to have our own place. However, she also said that self-catering wasn't a real holiday for a woman, as she had to do all the cooking and cleaning up. I feel that Dad would have helped but I can't remember. It didn't occur to them that we could have eaten in cafes.
I liked the guest houses, even though we had to be good girls all the time. I liked changing into a clean frock for tea and watching anxiously to make sure that my sister didn't get the cake that I wanted. I also liked the novelty of sleeping in caravan bunks with a nightlight in a saucer of water, for safety reasons, after Dad had turned off the little gas light in our room. Every holiday followed the same pattern - all day on the beach followed by a show in the evening or a trip to the amusements. It was so familiar and so comforting.