Writing yesterday’s prompt about what home means prompted today’s prompt…
What was your first holiday? Or, perhaps, the first one you remember?
I have a memory, and I’m sure its false because I was too young, of being bathed in a washing-up bowl in a caravan in Pembrokeshire. There’s a photograph of me in said washing-up bowl somewhere, so I’m pretty sure my brain concocted this memory from that.
But still—my earliest memories of holidays are pretty much all from Marloes in Pembrokeshire (with a couple of exceptions for Ynys and Harlech Castle in north Wales).
I remember walking on the beach with my parents and my brother and our dog, Sally.
I remember being cut off by the tides and having to wade back around the headland, tied to my mum in case I floated off.
I remember nearly drowning when I stepped into a hole in the surf—and being sent to swimming lessons as soon as we got home.
And I remember feeling like the sea and the sun and the sand were part of me, and me of them.
What does this question prompt for you?
Set a timer and happy writing.
TTFN,
Vicky
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Notes in the Margin
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