Childhood holidays

My Dad was a train driver so we had free train travel everywhere. One year we went to Butlins at Minehead, and as my siblings and I were competitive swimmers, we won all the kids races ... 1st prizes being free holidays there for the following year ! So what with free train travel and free holidays, with 5 kids ..... back we kept going year after year ? Luckily we all loved it !

We went to stay in a caravan on the IOW each year til I was 9yrs, The local council only charged rent for 50 out of 52 weeks and mum always used that money for us to have a week in a caravan. Then she one £100 on the premium bonds a lot of money in1963 and we bought a tent two gaz camping rings and 4 sleeping bags piled in all in the sidecar and set off for Devon to camp in a farmers field.

Grew up on a farm in Fermanagh, the most westerly county in N.ireland. No holidays apart from sometimes a night away in Belfast to go to Balmoral Agricultural shower, a longer journey and bigger treat, two nights in Dublin to take in Dublin horse show. I did sometimes get dispatched to my grandmother or cousins for part of summer holidays. Never had a family holiday and holidays are still not important to me. Just prefer visiting family or friends. Oh to be able to do that again!

Family holidays always seemed an adventure as a child. But realise now what a nightmare it was for my parents. Dad seemed to spend ages checking the old car before us 3 kids were rammed in the back with a roof rack full of camping gear. Hours to get to either Cornwall or Devon with one of us always being car sick.
Then the fun of trying to put up an ex scout bell tent and finding food at the camp site shop to cook. It must have been hard work for them.
Memories of beaches,castle trips, and exploring local areas inevitably ended up with someone getting hurt.
The last family holiday my poor mum was going through heavy periods at the start of menopause and bless her she had to walk through a cow field to get to a toilet. Happy days !!

We went abroad every year. All of western Europe, America and Canada. We even moved to Mallorca in 1969 when I was 7 and I went to a Spanish school. We came back after 2 years when my dad had finished writing his book. I wish i had seen more if the UK when I was young.

Sheringham, Norfolk, my dad’s eldest sister and husband ran a YHA place. It was fab lovely pine forest to play in and the beach very close by. I always remember them cooking breakfast, army style, every morning.
Very happy days.

At Easter we went to Minehead to stay with an artist friend of my fathers. I learned to swim in the pool there and I remember thousands of primroses everywhere - in the summer we stayed on Burgh Island and made friends for life - we then took our children there - great fun - again making lifelong friends and now they all go with their children and we are lucky to go again as grandparents- a bit of a family tradition .

Mid 60’s until 1979 it was a caravan in Pembrokeshire, then self catering at Butlin’s Minehead, never a hotel or guest house. First time we had a family holiday abroad was 1980 to Malta. It was self catering in an apartment and we only ate out three times in 15 days. My mother was & still is extremely careful with money ( not poor in the least) didn’t see the point in wasting money eating in restaurants when she had a kitchen she could cook food in. It was exactly the same as being at home, except the climate was much hotter& there were more alcoholic drinks in the sitting room as it was much cheaper than at home. Still had to wash the dishes by hand after breakfast lunch and supper in the apartment. Busman’s holiday really.

My parents had their own touring caravan in the 50s & 60s, it was kept on a site in Hertfordshire and we travelled to it from our London home every Saturday afternoon, when Dad finished work, and returned home every Sunday. But come August, the car would be packed to the gunnels with tinned food, he’d hitch the caravan to the car and we’d be off - maybe to Cornwall, maybe to Wales, Snowdonia or The Gower, wherever we went it involved an overnight stop to get there. Once at our destination he’d look for a farm or somewhere really isolated, always near to a beach. He’d then haul this enormous caravan ( there were seven of us, 2 adults & 5 kids) as far away from anyone else as he could, and then the fun could begin. The caravan was so basic, it couldn’t have been much of a holiday for my poor mother but us kids loved it.
Mr Wa and I have our own touring caravan, and have done since we married nearly 50 yrs ago, but these days they have showers, central heating, fridges and microwaves, and we take it to France and Spain.

We had an aunt, who lived on the Baltic Coast, in a town called Eckernförde, so that's where we went, driving the 600 or so km from Bonn. I remember, being 6, my brother 5, when my father kept testing us on all the towns we had to drive through on the way. Any one we did not get correct, earned a smack round the ears. Like tanith, when I was 7, my parents put me on a train by myself. They drove me to Cologne and put me on the train to Hamburg, where I had to change, 16 platforms! Had to find train to Kiel, where my aunt met me, for the final leg.

That sounds exactly like our trips to Cornwall.
I can remember sitting in traffic jams for ages, then the car would overheat...
Woe betide us if we uttered the immortal words "Are we nearly there yet?"

Another one here who went to Cornwall evert year - various locations and types of holiday. We tried B&Bs, farm holidays, renting a cottage. My Dad loved Cornwall and I feel nostalgia for it now. There are lots of TV programmes about the gorgeous county at the moment.
I remember the excitement of going to bed in the afternoon and setting off in the very early hours in an attempt to beat the traffic jams. We would stop for breakfast by the side of the road n a lay by and my Mum would cook a full English over a spirit stove. Oh the novelty of it and the fun.
It was bliss when my Uncle, Aunt and cousins could join us. The days on the beach were lovely. Places like Damer Bay and Polperro before they became the haunt of the young upper crust.
One year we broke our habit and went to North Wales. We stayed in a cottage in the middle of a field with sheep all around, mountains as a backdrop and a stream meandering at the bottom of the garden. My cousins were with us that year and we still all talk about it - the day my Uncle rowed us out on a lake and the boat started leaking and we all bailed like mad. The wide and nearly empty (in those days ) sandy beaches, cooking fresh fish that my uncle and cousin and caught. My Dad was too busy being sea sick. Lovely, lovely memories.
Thank you for the thread SALLYWALLY1.

When I lived in England I only remember going on 4 holidays with my parents, Blackpool, Morecambe and two caravan holidays but I cant remember where exactly. Then we emigrated to Australia when I was 11 and there were no more holidays. I am guessing that my parents were too busy working.

my mum always insisted we go away for a week, so we went to various resorts in West Scotland, in a flat. My dad used to load the baby's pram up and get the train to where were going and all 7 of us would go on the bus. We had some wonderful holidays, we didn't have much. My mum would send us all down to the beach, with my dad, and she would follow near lunchtime with a flask of soup and sandwiches. we thought it a luxury when we finally managed to go to Blackpool. My most memorable holiday was when I was 14 and went to Lerwick in the Shetland Island. I went with my Aunt, and we went to see my Uncle, who was working up there at the time. We flew there, and came back on the boat, which wasn't a very nice journey.

Every year we went to Southsea. My father was an upholsterer and he would borrow the firm's furniture lorry for a week. Sometimes we would sleep in the back of the lorry on an old settee or on the floor. When finances improved we would still go to Southsea to a boarding house.

I remember the roller skating rink and loving it but wasn't fond of the pebbly beach. Much nicer beaches in South Wales but it was just the excitement of going so far away. Took hours to get there back in the day!

We never went on holidays. A big thing was to go to my grandma’s for a week in Yorkshire which I hated as she didn’t want me. Later we got a bus Runabout ticket which enabled us to go to Liverpool, Ormskirk, Kendal, Skipton etc, all within about 30 miles of home! I was always desperate for a “change” so went to stay a few times with an aunt and my girl cousin again in Yorkshire which at least gave us access to boys!

I couldn’t wait and flew on holiday to Italy, Spain etc as soon as I was 17 and never stopped yet, go away (when we can) at least three/four times a yesr!

My parents always went to Ramsgate with my nan and great grandparents. I was born in 1957 and remember fondly those summer holidays when Ramsgate was a great seaside resort. Beach was always crammed with holidaymakers, Merrie England amusement arcade, Harrison’s restaurant and just loads to do. When my great grandparents passed away in the mid sixties it was holidays abroad from then on. Great times!

As a family we went to the usual Welsh coastal resorts, Bournemouth, Torquay etc. but my lasting memories are always of our trips to stay with an Aunt who owned a B&B in Blackpool. What fun it was for my brother and I to roam the (very clean) streets on our own. We would wander around the Pleasure Beach (fair) and eat Jubbblys on the pier. We loved being set free and there were no worries about safety as every trader, every stall holder and every donkey owner knew us! Different now I know but back in the 50's and 60's it was great!

My father was very enterprising and organised,( goodness knows how?) good family holidays in the 50's and 60's. One year we had a whole villa in Brittany and the rooms were filled over a month with a succession of family and friends. Other destinations involved a lot of driving, maybe an overnight with friend or relative, no motorways like today. It was my first time flying and also for my mother. And most years also we went to near Margate where our gran lived close to the beach. ... always sunny and great sea swimming.

When young to family. Then Blackpool with extended family for the Stop fortnight saying Hello to everyone from home doing the same. Two trips to Butlins with extended family my mum cried and said it was like a prisoner of war camp.
Ireland and Ostende. Finally Switzerland and Austria. We used trains as dad could speak German.

I had forgotten about the Sunday School outing Calendargirl what a treat that was. I remember going to Scarborough and once to a farm.

Oh yes, we lived in Bristol and went to Cornwall every year... seemed a long journey pre-motorways but the sun ALWAYS shone☀️ or so it seems looking back. Went to Newquay for the early part of my life then a hotel in St Ives or later we returned many times to a friendly guesthouse in Carbis Bay (which location is due for a starring role in June with the G7 summit).

Went to stay with my cousins mostly. Wonderful happy memories!

Free train travel for us as well! A week in Torquay , IOW, Weston super mare etc then from the late 60s onwards croyde bay ( Naldo holiday camp) every year
The palaver of booking though!
1. Write letters to tourist board of chosen towns
2. Wait for replies and make a short list of b and b’s
3.write to b and b’s to enquire about availability and rates
4. Wait for replies and choose 1.
5. Write to make a booking
6.Wait for reply
7.Post off a cheque for the deposit
Thank goodness for progress!

We always had a 2 week holiday in July/August when the factory my Dad worked in closed. His parents lived in Ramsgate so we mostly went there, then they moved to Herne Bay so went there. We were very lucky compared to my friends. Once we went to the IOW in a caravan for a change and special treat! This was in the 1950s.
I was about 24 when I first went abroad to Spain on Court Line and then got a job with them as cabin crew!