Head south for sunshine
I was a very lucky kid. Both my parents were teachers. At first glance, that might not make me so lucky, but because they were teachers they also had really long holidays in the summer. So every July, pretty much the second we broke up from school, we’d be in the car, heading to the nearest port to take the ferry to the continent. Then we’d spend the entire six-week break travelling round France, first with our regular tents, then later with our caravan.
There’s probably not a region of France I haven’t been to at some point. I loved Brittany, but Dad was never keen because the weather could be a bit unpredictable and he was a total sun worshipper. I also loved the holiday we spent some time in the Dordogne, at a campsite right by the rushing river itself. My Mum hated that place as it was infested with the usual large insects that congregate wherever heat and water mix!
But the south of France, along the Cote d’Azur, was one area we could all agree on, and subsequently from the age of seven until I turned 18, we would get off the ferry in the north and set off straight away on the long drive to the Med, the first sight of that beautiful sea, always as blue as a Pantone mug set, meant our holiday proper was beginning.
Most people think of the South of France as being exclusive and expensive, somewhere only the celebs can afford to hang out. Not if you’re camping! We definitely figured out how to do glam on a budget. Just because we were staying in a crappy tent didn’t mean we couldn’t go and hang out in Cannes or Monaco, watching the rich guests arrive at the posh hotels in their sports cars.
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