We went on holidays, to the same place that we went last year in october. October it rained almost every day and looking out the large windows of the holiday house felt like “being inside a washing machine”, a phrase coined by my mum. This time was a big change. We had one day of rain. The kids spent time being free and adventuring and not having ot have overbearing parents tell them exactly what to do throughout the week. they built character, argued, shouted, saw wild animals, weasels, buzzards, rabbits on the grass, horses in the field next door.

We ran a lot, in calm skies, with blowy sea air. The same route each day and felt the subtle changes in conditions despite the consistency of BBC Weather. We joined the party boats in the local bay on paddle boards and kayaks. Dug sandcastles and sand volcanos and threw stones at rock towers.

The place we go is changing, it’s less “Rough and ready, adventurer/camper” and more “these local farm outbuildings are worth a lot of money to rich people that can turn them into swimming pools and gyms” and the clientele has twisted from old retired sailor money to new, investment money. It’s not changed the scenery and the place will ebb and flow, along with the tide in the bay. When recession hits, second homes are the first to go. along with it, the local cleaning, gardening, managing companies that have dived full footed into supporting an industry of holidaymakers.

I feel sad at leaving family and a holiday that feels far too short. The best days are those spent within a mile of the place you’re at. Learning the locality, diving deep into the waters of what a place feels like. Teaching the next generation to care about a place. I wish that everyone could feel the connection with going back to the same destination year on year over decades.