Childhood holidays

I didn’t know that people went away for holidays, or even what a holiday was - apart from the school ones when I could go out to play all day - until I was in my teens and my sister, by then married, took me to Cornwall with her and my BiL and we stayed in a caravan.

I think you and I, Sallywally, are exactly the same. We always had one week in a caravan - no holiday for my mother as she cooked meals every day (no spare cash for eating out). My first holiday was to Spain when I was 18 with a group of friends.

I remember holidaying as a child in Bournemouth, Margate and Brighton travelling with a coach company called Beeline Travel from our home in Co Durham as a child. Blackpool was one of my Dad’s favourite places too. I also spent many happy holiday weeks at my Grandma’s not far from where we lived as both my parents were nurses and worked full time. I often went with my cousin to her Grandma’s home in Baldersby for a week. She lived in a small bungalow so we were farmed out to sleep overnight in one of her friend’s home. I was 16 when I went to Ibiza for my first foreign holiday with my cousin.

Up till I was about 10 we usually went to stay with relatives or friends, then we had a lovely caravan holiday near Weston Super Mare where the sun seemed to shine every day. The following year my dad's boss let us have her farmhouse near the coast in Dorset and then no more holidays till I was 17, and Weston again. We had the annual Sunday School day out to the seaside, usually Weston or Bournemouth. My parents were not well off, and we had no car. But I have lovely memories of Weston and Dorset.

There were four of us all girls, I was the oldest and most of our holidays in the 1960's were in Cottages in Devon, Cornwall and once a B & B in Bridlington.
We were very lucky at that time and I have some lovely memories but I was always jealous of my friend who went to Butlins every year.
Strange, now I love going to Cornwall and often go twice a year with my sons and their families, I'd hate a holiday at Butlins.

Bridlington. Every year. Heartily loathe the place.

We didn’t go on holiday every year, but when we did it was either Rhyl or Margate.
But if we couldn’t afford to go, my Nan owned a bungalow on a field in bewdley. Which was only about 20 miles from home. It had 3 bedrooms, a lounge and kitchen . I loved it there. My Nan rented it out. Quite a lot of local families would rent it for a week. Much cheaper than going to the seaside.
Not sure how my Nan had come to own it, we weren’t a rich family. Just working class. There’s no one left to ask now.
Happy memories.

Does anyone remember John Bloom and the new fangled washing machines he sold? Well, my dad, who was bringing me up alone, decided to buy one on the grounds that we could have a 10 day holiday in Lido di Jesolo for about £30 as part of the deal! The excitement! I'd never been abroad and dad only in his days in the RAF. It was a two day journey by coach stopping at some beautiful town in Bavaria and then near Garmisch Patenkirchen in Austria. Sadly some old chap from our coach had a heart attack in the men's loos along the way but that didn't stop us forging on to Italy! Lido di Jesolo was amazing and I can still recall the smell of minestrone soup, served as a starter at each evening meal in the hotel. I was about 11 and couldn't understand why it smelled of sick, having never encountered parmesan cheese before! Nowadays I love the stuff!

I lived in Bridlington in the 50s leeds22 I went back a few years ago and was so disappointed to see how it is now.

We use to go to cattolica in italy for 2 weeks every year . My mum always wanted to go full board in a hotel because she said she waited on everyone hand and foot throughout the year . The days where spent lazing on beach and evening strolls after dinner . I have some lovely memories .

paddyann your post reminds me that our local seaside resort Whitley Bay had a big influx of Glaswegians in July= kept them going financially too.
We didn't have holidays until the early 50s when we went to stay with family on their farm in Otterburn. Loved it - saw cousins, helped with the haymaking etc.

Through work my late Father became friendly with an Estate agent, he would sometimes allow us to go and stay for a week or two as a family, in a house or Cottage he was preparing ready for Rent or Sale, in exchange for a few Electrical jobs being done, and a clean and tidy up whilst we were there.
This resulted in a Cheap holiday, often in a place that we would not of otherwise had the Chance of Visiting.
I got to live on the Norfolk Broads for a few weeks every year, in a tiny old Cottage near the River and boatyards. We visited a 12 bedroom Manor house in Mid Wales, with its own Salmon River and Coachhouse, which my Mother believed was Haunted! The Place that we really fell in love with though was a small New build Bungalow, situated on the North Yorkshire coast, Near Filey. It was kept as a Holiday let, and even after it was finally Sold, we had fallen in love with the Area and still try and visit every year, and have always dreamed of one day returning to live in the Area, although for health reasons, l doubt that it will ever happen now.

Ibiza, Menorca, Tenerife, France, Guernsey, Wales, Cornwall, Devon, New Forest, Norfolk, Lake District. Probably did quite well.

Just remembered we 'did' Europe too. That was nice.

my dads family were in the north east and we used to visit for 2 weeks every summer either by coach from liverpool or sometimes by car. mostly spent in whitley bay with a weekend in a caravan in seahouses when i was in my early teens and then a few years later at the caravan park at haggerston castle. so many lovely places to visit in and around northumberland and scotland. all stopped when i married apart from 1 year.

Devon or Cornwall usually except for a couple of years when we went to Barcelona to see friends who had left Spain when Franco was in charge & their family had to flee. They moved into house next to my grandparents & my Mum was young & played with their 2 much younger sons.
My other grandparents lived near Clacton so we went there a lot too.

Great Yarmouth (caravan) and Ramsgate (guest house) - remember one year we went across to Calais for the day on the hovercraft out of Pegwell Bay. Also went on a B&I cruise holiday with my primary school to Madeira, Lisbon and Vigo that probably started my lifelong love of cruising.

Day trip to Southend on sea by bus from Islington London, it took hours. Funfair,beach,pier followed by fish,chips & a knickerbocker glory. Bus home seemed even longer. Happy days ?

We had little spare money for holidays but one year my dad took us to Weymouth for a week, another time Yarmouth and once we actually got on a tiny propeller plane and flew to Jersey. On every holiday the first day we had perfect weather and then it turned cold and wet. We came home early from Weymouth and Yarmouth.

Family hols were spent in south coast in Sussex for a week @ boardinghouse in fifties then in mid - sixties we flew to guernsey in tiny aeroplane which was a great experience.

When I was small we went to Clacton-on-Sea for 2 weeks every summer. We stayed in a bungalow that had once been a cow shed, with an outside toilet, no bathroom and a cold water tap outside the back door. My Mum saved all year for that holiday and then spent all her time cooking, cleaning and knitting and waiting on my GPs who came with us. My favourite thing was the swing seat underneath the apple trees in the orchard.

When I was 9 we took the first of a series of holidays in Wales, mainly so my GM could revisit her childhood home and see ageing relatives. On one visit a stray dog adopted us for the fortnight, the happiest holiday ever for me I spent hours walking him through the fields and sand dunes. But the morning we were returning home his owner tracked him down and I had to give him back.

Over the next few years we holidayed at a bungalow on Canvey Island. It was a bit like stepping back in time, deserted beaches where it was safe for me to wander on my own, friendly people, and a volunteer fire service that were summoned to duty by a siren that could be heard all over the island! It began my love affair with 'island' living - and we now live on an island, but not Canvey.

When l was small we generally had days out, often to the coast - Lowestoft, Cromer, Winterton-on-Sea. When l was five we stayed in Portsmouth with relatives for a week - looking back it was a very long trek from Norfolk. When l was seven we stayed in a farmhouse in the Lake District. Later on we had holidays in Devon, staying a guesthouse and for several years we stayed in a farmhouse in Cornwall. Happy days. Oh, and my father, in common with just about every other father in the country, it seems, would set off at 4 am in order to "beat the traffic."

Happysexagenarian
I live on "The Island".

Teinmouth in Devon, Cornwall or Jersey because my Auntie lived there.

We went to Blackpool in the same boarding house until I was about 8, the family that ran it were lovely and we used to play with their children. We then started going to Cornwall, first Newquay and the Carbis Bay. At the age of 12 my parents allowed me to go on a school holiday, 2 weeks in Yugoslavia, it was amazing travel by coach to Dover where we stayed in a Youth Hostel overnight, across the Channel on the ferry and then a sleeper train, I remember going through Cologne and seeing the cathedral lit up. We eventually arrived in Opatija where we got a coach and then onto a ferry to an island where we stayed in a beautiful hotel... 2 days travel to get there but a wonderful adventure. Trips to Austria, Switzerland and France followed, only when I grew up did I appreciate how hard it had been for my parents give me and my brothers these wonderful experiences and I am eternally grateful. My parents continued with holidays in this country until we were all grown up and then they took the opportunity to go abroad and loved exploring new places.