Family HolidaysBack in the 80s when my Dad got made redundant (hello Dad!), he spent all the redundancy money on one of those big motor caravans.
Us kids loved it, apart from when my sister threw up on my sleeping bag, but looking back I'm not so sure my mum did. There was a certain tension every time the big van was even mentioned, let alone driven around France for weeks on end with her still having to cook and do all the washing.
What went wrong, what went right, and how did you survive the shame of having your family with you as a teenager?
(
chthonic, Thu 2 Aug 2007, 14:33)
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Annual PilgrimageEvery year, my mother and father packed all 4 of their kids, as much luggage as a boeing 747 could hold and two massive german shepards into an estate car and drove 5 hours to sunny Aberdeen.
It was the same every year I can remember. Being the youngest and by default, the smallest, I spent the journey in the boot area with the dogs and cases, face pressed against the rear window praying my older brother (aka vomit fountain) would keep his unique talent to himself until at least an hour into the journey.
My sisters would moan like bitches from mile 1 on, my mother would smoke like a chimney from the very second she got in the car.
My father, well, he'd drive and have to stop at every toilet coz he'd have terminal squirts.
This memorable journey was only topped by arriving in the granite city (funny how it rhymes with shit), being dragged round relatives houses with the faint aroma of brother spew around us, to be spoken at in an alien language and force fed cakes and sandwiches.
Oh, those were the days....
(, Thu 2 Aug 2007, 19:01, Reply)
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