Barry Island

I remember my first holiday in a static caravan. I went with my best friend and her grandparents to stay in their static caravan in Barry Island in Wales.  For those of you who haven’t been to Barry Island, think sugar fuelled children running around like demons on speed and overly enthusiastic, drunk, parents and grandparents singing karaoke much to their off-springs embarrassment.

 

I was just twelve years of age when I went to Barry Island and I remember everything this crazy caravan park had to offer. There was, what seemed at the time to be, a huge amusement arcade, full of games machines, coin pushes, teddy grabs and the like. The caravan park was also positioned right next to the beach so after just a stones throw we were adventuring in rock pools and toying with tiny crabs. On one occasion, my friend and I spent so long in the rock pool, unprotected from the sun of course, that we got quite seriously burned. It was the first time I had ever experienced sunburn because my mother, absent in this case, used to douse me in factor 50 when it was sunny and thick, cold Nivea when it windy!  My friends grandma’s solution to our burning bodies: milk? This was definitely a first and a last!

 

I also met my “first love” at Barry Island, the home of the free wandering children.  This love was cemented in the form of “do you want to go out with me?” during a huge water pistol fight between all the holidaying kids. Of course, after my week was up we never saw one another again!

 

The caravan itself seemed to me, at the time, to be a thing of luxury. I was living in a small flat with my Mum and sibling and this static provider of holiday accommodation was roughly the same size.  It’s nice to reminisce about the things I got up to as a kid. If anyone else has been to Barry Island, I’d love to hear your stories and about all the mischief you got up to!