My first…

I thought I’d start something a little different, with it being the first of the month, and share my first “something” and then perhaps you can share something back and we can all have a good old laugh, or cry, or reminisce or whatever and it will all be grand.

Failing that, I will share my first “something” and you can read it or not read it!

So, for the first in the series…

My first…holiday abroad!

Bucket and spade

I’m firmly in holiday mode now, having planned and booked two trips. I love holidays. I’m always thinking where to go next, looking for good deals, searching city breaks and checking out hotels. There’s nothing I’d rather spend my money on than travelling (although obviously shoes, clothes and food feature heavily in my life too!)

I first went abroad when I was 6 years old. In fact, I first went abroad before my parents! My Nan and Grandad on my Dad’s side always went overseas on holiday, and they asked my Mom & Dad if they could take me. My parents were pretty young when they had me, and money was quite tight for them so they wouldn’t have been able to afford to go themselves. Which makes me feel pretty sad and special and very humbled that they paid for me when they didn’t have much money themselves. That’s love.

My auntie (my Dad’s sister) is just over 2 years older than me, so we grew up together and spent a lot of time together. Going on that holiday to Ibiza, with my Nan and Grandad and young auntie, was such fun. There was (and still is) something different about being on holiday abroad. An attitude, a feeling, a laid back nature that I’ve never known in the UK. Maybe it’s because you know the sun will be shining every day. Or because hotels on the continent are so much more laid back with things like meal times and dress codes, compared to the prim and proper UK B&Bs where breakfast was served between 8.30 and 9 and you were expected to wear long trousers for dinner. I remember the freedom of running around on the beach, playing in the white Balearic sand and paddling in the warm as bath water Mediterranean sea. Staying up until it was way past my bedtime and speaking to strangers who my Nan and Grandad had made friends with. Looking at all the ceramic pots in the market and picking a vase to bring home for my Mom. Being mistaken for twins with my auntie because we were dressed the same and looked so similar. The blue and white bathing suit with the multi colour palm tree that said “Tropicana” on the front. Peeling sunburnt skin off my auntie’s back and her doing the same to me. Eating continental breakfast and trying apricot jam for the first time. The smell of the heat and the warm balmy nights. Fishing with bread like the local fishermen. Seeing a man catch a squid and watching the ink run along the promenade. Being out on a pedalo.

I’m forever thankful to my parents for sacrificing their own enjoyment so that I could have such an experience at such a young age, and for instilling a love of holidays and travel in me that grows stronger with every year that passes.

Share your first holiday memories with me!

Thanks, as always, for reading! x

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