We used to stay in Tricketts Cross/ Moordown in my aunt and uncle’s caravan regularly. I adored it. I spent the first six months of my life in a caravan my parents had scrimped and saved to buy. Perhaps that is the reason for my affection for travel. They had often spoken of the Winter of 1962/63 when they had needed to dig each other out.
They had often spoken fondly of those days. I was so desperate to get away from my ex, I had looked at a caravan!
At the back of my mind I have always remembered The L Shaped Room. A young, pregnant girl is restored by living in a rundown hovel, with what would nowadays probably be classified as a bunch of weirdos. I have also lived in my fair share of seedy bedsits!
The caravan (like everything else to do with my aunt) was bright and airy, I remember Mum would always buy fresh bread and butter (which was a real treat) and jam while we were away, I seem to remember a lot of non-stop cricket too! I don’t think we used wickets, if the ball hit your legs, you were out.
One of my brother’s friends came away with us one year, He was always a member of the family even when he was chambering in and out of clothing bins, giving impromptu puppet shows. I believe he was at the back of the church opening beers with my brother one Chtistmas Eve
He was also the joker who nearly got them all. beaten up when he had squirted a soda siphon across the bar.
When we got back from holiday, he had ended up sleeping around our house because he was really upset that his girlfriend had dumped him. He was also involved in blowing up condoms. I was close to my brother’s friends once upon a time. I knew my friend’s husband long before I had met her. I unearthed another old photo of him the other day.
Speaking of condoms. When we were in Dublin in the nineties condoms were still not readily available. They were hidden away in drawers!
As I have said many times, my best friend is married to one of my brother’s friends.
I wanted all this for our son. I had tried to make his friend feel welcome online during lockdiwn! My daughter’s friends have ended up being wonderful. Most of my son”s friends have been a disappointment!
Whatever happened to mateship?
When it comes to rough places to live, the roughest was the kibbutz.
We had been horrified when we had first seen the filthy mattress we would be sleeping on but looking next door we had seen how others had managed to make it really homely. I remember laying out my sleeping bag to sleep on.
One of the guys had made me laugh. He had made a game out of catching and killing the mice!
I believe that same kibbutz is likely to have just come under rocket attack.