When I was little, we always went on a caravanning holiday,
Venturing to Bridlington, Scarborough or Robin Hood’s Bay.
We placed the caravan on its plot and wound the stabilisers down,
Ready for a cup of tea and a very good recce round.
We took containers to get our water from right across the site,
And the showers were in a special block and were always dark at night.
Our caravan had cupboards which were filled with food or pots;
For pillows and bed linen there were some special under seat slots.
The long settee turned into a bed and so did the wooden table,
Dad had to put the pieces together to make sure that they were stable.
There was a kitchenette – a place where mum could cook,
It had a tiny washing bowl and a tap – a very useful nook.
We sat outside for breakfast with views across the sea,
And had picnics for lunch and fish and chips for tea.
When the sun shone, we would dig and play upon the sands,
Or walk into the town to eat ice creams and listen to the bands.
If it were grey and wet, with rain drumming on the roof,
We played cards or board games and were challenged to ‘Dare or Truth!’
As I grew, my family sought adventure and decided to go quite far,
By hitching our touring caravan onto the tow bar of our car,
With home behind, possessions packed, our bikes upon the floor,
We were able to see more of Britain and embark on many a tour.
Our caravan holidays were a happy time – a simple summer break,
It gave us rest and relaxation – the best holidays we could take.
©Bonnie Day Poems