Your holidays as a child.

What a lovely thread - I have just read all 5 pages. It's 10am and I'm not even dressed - Oh Gransnet, what are you doing to my life? Only joking - I am so happy that I found YOU!!

When I was very young my Irish grandmother was alive and I remember the excitement of going to Ireland on the ferry. She had an Irish terrier that I loved to play with and she lived in the country so holidays were full of fields and cows and streams and nearby beaches.

My father died when I was 7 so there were no holidays then until I was at secondary school. As a young teenager I went with my mother to Devon. We had a series of holidays around Dawlish and I still remember South Devon with great fondness. Gorgeous beaches and beautiful countryside and wonderful clotted cream ice cream!

I sometimes think just how much life has changed. Not everyone holidayed then and if they did, it was one or two weeks out of the whole year somewhere modest in the UK. None of this endless jetting off at the drop of a hat!

KatyK I never had a holiday as a child, either, only school day trips. However, from the age of 10, I spent my school holidays ( lived in NYC at the time) roaming the city on my own or with friends, packed lunches in a brown paper bag.
We spent entire days exploring a shop now sadly closed called FAO Schwarz, bigger than Hamley's and magical, investigating all the toys. We dressed, spoke and behaved well, so nobody every told us off.

As we got older, we visited museums. Didn't miss what we never had.

Such adventures not advisable now!

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My best holiday experience as a child was in jaisalmer Rajasthan. That was the beautiful place for visiting like temples,traditional places etc.Pollution free environment and good heart people.

Hotels in jaisalmer

My parents farmed. I used to stay with my grandmother who lived five minutes for a beach. Fantastic times.

My Mum was evacuated to a lady who she remained friends with until her death at 95 . She was a very wealthy unmarried lady who had a huge house in Hale (very posh village) and another huge holiday house at Penryn bay where we used to spend all our holidays, we lived in inner city Manchester so these holidays were just paradise . The house actually had steps down to the beach with a big Victorian gate with a mermaid in wrought iron which you needed all your strength to open . My little sister and I spent all day on the beach rockpooling , jumping off the huge boulders and of course paddling in the sea totally unsupervised of course. It always seemed to be sunny but can`t have been , just so many lovely memories come back when I think about it .

My folks used to rent a seaside house somewhere in the SE - sometimes pretty basic, but I do remember a big one in Walton on the Naze when 2 grannies and an aunt joined us - it had a billiard table!
I also remember a very little one in Littlehampton, I think - it was called Winker's Cot and my father immediately christened it Widdler's Pot!

We used to go by train - had no car then - and I remember being so excited to get that first glimpse of the sea. That certain sea smell - seaweed is certainly part of it - can take me right back. I used to love those holidays. They weren't much of a holiday for my mother, having to cook etc., but tht didn't occur to me for many years.

My folks never wanted to go anywhere near the pier - far too noisy - but a granny used to take me - she loved all the noisy 'trashy' elements as much as I did!

People rarely went on holiday where I lived in the 50s and 60s but I was lucky because I had an auntie who lived by the sea.

My longest holiday with her was two weeks when I was eight. I was homesick but loved paddling, rock pools, my bucket and spade, sand shoes and picnics in the countryside with wonderful views of the sea.

Thanks auntie for some very happy memories which all seem to be in glorious technicolour.

We went for what seems to me like 7 years in a row to a little bungalow in Scratby on the Norfolk coast. Because there were more bedrooms than we needed, other family and friends were usually invited to join us.

It was at the end of a cul-de-sac, perched on top of the cliff. I was an early riser and at the age of about 6 or 7 would scramble down the cliff before everyone was up and wander around on the beach until my cousin came looking for me - probably sent by my mother who must have been having kittens!

There were porpoises and seals, and on wet days we would go to the penny arcade in Yarmouth, and my Dad got in as much sailing as he could.

Then the caravan sites got too big and made it a less pleasant place to be. The rest of our holidays were mainly spent sailing.

My dad had a milk round and worked 7 days a week so we only had a holiday if could persuade someone to do it for a few days. We once pushed the boat out and went to Sandsend and stayed in a hotel for a week. For two adults and 4 children staying on a full- board basis, it cost £32.

Earliest memories of a family holiday was in a caravan on the east cost somewhere - and as soon as the tide went out we took our buckets and spades and dug for cockles - watching for the air bubbles to come up in the wet sand, then digging like crazy to find the cockle before it disappeared. We founds lots - and took them back to my mum in the caravan - and then she would boil them and we all ate them all before we went to bed!

Then when we got a little older - we went to holiday camps each summer - Pontin's or Warners - either on the Kent coast or Devon. I clearly remember the early morning tea lady and her tea trolley rolling down the pathway alongside the rows of wooden chalets where we slept. My mum would be waiting for her to arrive at our row of chalets - and then the tea lady would stop, pour out our four cups of tea from an enormous tea pot, even add the sugar and stir it - then mum would bring our morning cuppa into us!

Funny the silly things you remember about summer holidays with your family! But they were such phappy times.

We used to rent a basic fisherman's cottage down in the bay at Kimmeridge in the days when it was unknown. We had to go back into the village to collect the milk. I was terrified of the crabs in the bay and I remember my parents floating me out far enough wearing my water wings so that I could swim without putting my feet down. I was always terrified to cross the bridge to the cottages as there was an adders nest below. Despite this I have idyllic memories of those happy Dorset days.

We usually went to Wales, stayed in some field somewhere in an old basic caravan. My Father seemed to think it would be FUN to get up at the crack of dawn no matter what the weather, and try to cook sausages outside. WHY??? I was always glad to get back home.
I do love to travel still though, but have not and will not ever stay in a caravan or even worse a tent, never again in my life.
I also cannot understand why anyone would want a barbeque. I have a perfectly good oven and hob inside the house. It is clean, and it cooks the food properly. If anyone wants to eat outside then fine, take it out there when it's cooked. I am sitting at the table .

Living in Bournemouth as a child, people always seemed to come to us for their holidays! My Mum took in paying guests (must have been the smallest guest house ever!) and I was made to be waitress when I was old enough which I hated as I was very shy. The only holidays en famille I remember were 2 visits to Butlins in Bognor Regis and Minehead which were fun. Also a long weekend in Blackpool to see the illuminations! Thinking back, I was a bit of a fussy eater, so it was probably a nightmare for my parents to take me anywhere.

My mother was Irish and so we used to get a train to Fishguard to catch the ferry across to Cork. Our uncle used to pick us up in his old car and drive to us to his farm in Skibberean. We used to have an amazing time and used to show our Irish cousins how to have a good time. Jumping from haystacks, hurtling downhill on my auntie's old bike, leaping over streams and generally getting filthy. We used to eat boiled ham with steamed potatoes with skin on topped with cream skimmed from freshly milked cows from the morning. Delicious. We had no electricity or running water but it didn't matter. Had a candle to light us to bed.

We queued through every town from Manchester to Torquay, with no motorways. It seems to take several days, but maybe it was only 2!

Husband grew up in Pembroke and Freshwater East was a bike ride from home all during the summer holidays and warm weekends. As it's in a national park, it hasn't changed as much as other places over the decades. It's like Cornwall without the crowds or being built up. Love it, even in winter at a cozy self-catering. Heaven!

When we lived in Canada we used to go camping in Canada and the U.S. . In Hong Kong we took a Japanese freight ship all around Japan and its islands In England we went to Devon or Sussex. Now I love visiting foreign cities .

Up to the age of about 11 we never had a holiday, it was wartime. Though we were evacuated to the country for a short time, can't remember much about it.
After the war Mum and I and my sister usually went to my uncle's farm for the summer and helped with the haymaking - great fun.
Dad stayed at home and went to work.

We were quite poor as kids but my nana and grandad had a tiny egg shaped caravan on winkups camp in towyn and we were lucky enough to have a week there every year. It was absolutely wonderful..from waiting on the station platform for the train to arriving then rushing for the 'sunny bus' - the open top bus whisking us to our home for the next week. Such lovely memories of going to the camp shop for wagon wheel biscuits, the sound and smell of delicious welsh water hitting the white and blue enamel jug on a brisk morning, the trek to the beach - miles away over the railway line but bliss once there, the talent contests our nan insisted we took part in even tho our 'talent' was minimal, our repertoire just two songs (lollipop lollipop and if i ruled the world) and we were terrified to boot! It still makes me laugh out loud to think our prizes were a packet of crisps each and, marvellously, a foam backed hairbrush! I could go on and on but will just say when we got the train home and my lovely mum and dad had just a ha'penny left in the world til next pay day we knew we were the luckiest kids ever

What wonderful stories!

We never took many holidays as our parents couldn't afford them. However, every one we took was spoilt by terrible weather and, except for the one in Jersey where we had to wait for the return Southampton propeller flight, we came home early to avoid the rain.

I remember Weymouth one year, Yarmouth another and in 1966 my mother took my sister and I to her old home in Galway in the West of Ireland. We took a long train to Holyhead and underwent the awful night crossing. Then a train half way across Ireland when we had to finish our journey on an all day bus over roads which were rock strewn and wandered over by cattle, sheep and donkeys. It took us two days to get there!

My eight cousins, auntie and grandad lived in the family two-bed cottage and had no mains plumbing. I remember wanting the loo and being given ONE square of toilet paper and told to go and use the bucket in the barn. The boys were out gathering turf on the donkey and there was no electricity connected. It was a real eye opener to a soft English girl who had recently been bought the luxury of an electric blanket.

I also remember the stunning beauty of the coast and of Clifton itself and the hedges of blooming fuschias.

Nowadays, holidays mean Devon in comfort and nice enough accommodation to avoid the (still continuing) rain. Though I have to admit we are doing a short break to Venice next week so I guess we have 'upped the ante' a bit.

We went to Weston Super Mare for a week each year, in the same B&B. That was till I was six when my father rejoined the army. We then lived in such exotic locations ad Yorkshire, Hampshire and for four years, in Germany as part of BAOR. We always travelled back to the Black country for our holidays then. I caught up with old friends and revisited old haunts. I loved it and have always regarded this place as home'. Still do

Did your parents have a primus stove in a Huntley and Palmerston tin? Dad had one we used to stop in a layby and have a cup of tea and a biscuit wherever we went on holiday. All the car with me regularly being sick.

granjura sounds very Swallows and Amazons