I went on my best childhood holiday, with the Brown family from down the road, when I was twelve, in one. . . we toured North Eastern France
the Brown family comprised a father, a mother and three daughters, one my age one younger one older, but even with the roof up (as in the following image)
there wasn't enough room to sleep six (two sling beds each side of the main part of the van, in the roof space, a single across the front seats and a double at the back on the sofa), so we had to take it in turns to sleep in a little tent outside. . .
it was the most brilliant time; it was Mr Brown's birthday during the holiday and each of the Brown Girls had made him something which we devoured during the three weeks we were away: banana cake, fruit cake and some fudge. . .
Mrs Brown used to like taking us to see ancient French churches and hiring bicycles in small French country villages (or borrowing them, if there were none to hire) and making us cycle up steep hills in the midday sun to picnic at some peak with an incredible view. . .
she took us shoping in French markets and treated us to crepe, made in front of our eyes and covered in butter and sugar, or strawberry jam. . .
I could go on for hours, but I'm sleepy and groggy and think I might just tuck up with my memories and try and have a nice dream (had another nightmare last night) (it included eating watermelon covered in fragments of glass) (the new meds have a lot to answer for, but perhaps a nightmare is a small price to pay for a small degree of sanity?)
for years XCH and I discussed buying a VW camper van - he even joined the Splitty Club and we'd spend hours pouring over the magazine comparing the prices and conditions of the buses for sale while I dreampt of sewing seat covers and mathcing curtains, knitting rugs and making blankets and acquiring vintage kitchen paraphenalia for picnics on the beach. . .
pipe dreams, I believe, is the phrase
better than the nightmares I'm currently having tho, I guess