This is the first in a little run of stories about my holidays in the South of France. I wrote them a while back during Shimelle's Beyond Blogging class and decided that they would be great for Storytelling Sunday!
My first ever holiday abroad took place the year I was 7. In fact, I had my 7th birthday whilst on holiday. My Grandad had given my parents some money and told them to spend it on something to enjoy and so they bought a tent and all the equipment, we loaded up the car and set off to the South of France, Le Lavandou in point of fact.
There are many things I have been told, but can't actually remember, about the holiday, but there are several memories which are as clear as day.
|Me, my Mum, Pippa (my sister)|
Having arrived at the campsite and set up the tent, my Mum took me and Pippa to the toilet block. As we walked up the hill in the dry, dusty heat, she explained how many of the French public toilets are actually just holes inthe floor which one has to squat over to use.
|Me in the sea|
'Oh dear' said Mum, 'you are going to have to squat.' I removed my knickers, squatted and started my 'wee'!
'Stop!' Mum suddenly yelled. She had been standing outside, but with the door ajar to look after me. Looking up she suddenly noticed a shower head! Yes, it was not a French toilet but a shower I was relieving myself in! Fortunately I had good muscles in those days and managed to stop and move into the now vacant English family bathroom!
|My Dad reading me a story - he always made|
me laugh as he used to start off with 'Once upon a twice' and
then carry on being silly.
|Me and Pippa - my birthday cards are all flat on the table|
as the wind kept blowing them over!