A long time ago, when I was a boy my Mum and Dad had a small touring caravan. As they ran a small grocery shop they did not have a lot of time to get away. But every Saturday evening, except in winter, after the shop had closed we set of in the caravan. The distances travelled were not far and I seem to remember that a lot of the trips were to local rallies of the caravan club. As we lived in Stoke on Trent most of the places we visited were in Staffordshire, Shropshire and Derbyshire in England. Even though we usually arrived at the rally rather late, all I can remember is going to bed, Sunday was usually fun with cricket and football being played. Some time on the Sunday afternoon the rally would start to break up. I think that we would be one of the earlier leavers.
And then it would be back to the shop. Sometimes, if we had gone further than usual, we would stop in a lay by on the way back and arrive home early on Monday morning. I remember being put into a sleeping bag on the back seat of the car for the journey home on Monday morning. This was long before seat belts!
I had forgotten most of this until my wife suggested we get a motorhome a few months ago. We decided that this was a good idea because it would get us away from the cares and pressures of everyday life and I have taken to it with great glee. Obviously I have started to remember some of these events of half a century ago.