Why I love holidays

Creative writing submission from the Rest Less community – submit your entry here.

Why I love holidays

Why I Iove holidays. I suppose it all started from one of my earliest memories. My dad was a coach driver. In those days (I am going back a very long time), a coach driver would be able to reserve a front seat and take one of his children along with him on one of his day trips. Not officially I presume.

New red sandals were purchased for the occasion, I was even allowed to choose the colour. Ooooh the excitement the night before! No sleep for me, watching the clock go round all night long, waiting for the early hour when my dad would creep into my room and whisper, “Come on pudding (my nickname at the time). Time to come on the trip with me. Don’t wake your brother, I can’t take both of you.”

Quietly we would get washed and dressed, creep out of the house. He couldn’t take both of us – probably even one child wasn’t allowed. Not that such a small detail would bother my dad. He didn’t accept rules much in those days.

My dad likes to have fun, he would put the radio on in the coach, and more often than not we would all end up having a sing along on the coach with the passengers. Oh the little pleasures – we didn’t want a lot in those days. Upon reaching our destination, dad and myself would head for the beach with our picnic.  After that maybe a little paddle in the sea. I remember exploring beautiful beaches and sand dunes, if the weather was on our side.

Wearing heavy sandals, I soon got fed up with carrying them around with me. There is no feeling on earth like having sand between your toes. “Take your sandals off and we will bury them in the entrance to the sand dunes under a rock” said my dad, “Save carrying them about with us.” But I was so worried about my lovely sandals, I was very reluctant to do it; convinced someone would guess that my new sandals were under the rock by the entrance to the beach.

My dad knew better: “They will be there when we come back, I promise you my little pudding“, he reassured me. What a day we had on that beach, looking for crabs and jellyfish, building sandcastles and eating sandwiches with bits of sand on them, that such a small matter did not seem to worry us.

All too soon with much trepidation and a worried feeling in my tummy, it was time to head back to our hiding place, I remember being very anxious in case my precious sandals were not there. 

“Would I let my little pudding down?” said my dad, and of course they were there when we moved the rock and started digging for them. How relieved was I? The knot in my tummy magically disappeared. I knew I could trust my dad. He would not let me down. I can never remember the journey back – I must have fallen asleep. All I know is that these little adventures gave me a love of holidays that I have kept to this day. Now I am 65 years old, and still plan my holiday every year. I am probably going to have to join the coach trips full of pensioners for my holidays now. Funny how life comes around full circle!

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5 thoughts on “Why I love holidays

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    Margaret Lindsay on Reply

    I love holidays as well and love looking back at the photographs taken. So many happy memories and a catalogue of enjoyable memories with my family.

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