Having mentioned VW Campers the other day I’ve been tickled as – celebrating my mother’s 86th birthday – we’ve been rifling old photo boxes en famille, and came across a lovely reminder that it wasn’t just camper vans that fed my imagination. Here’s a blurry Instamatic snap of yours truly beside Dad’s VW Beetle (or Bug as M&L might know it) and a tent that, to his young son, was better than a 5 star hotel. I can still smell the canvas, and recall the just-awake-doziness of a small camper being summoned by his father to breakfast, and the sound of the orange fishing line whizzing through the reel. I can hear the kettle, the sausages spitting in the frying pan, the songs we sang at the lakeside, and those especially resonant echoes by which all our lives are touched, as we write our unique autobiographical songs …
wind in my wheels 🌱 
such evocative memories! Thank you!
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Thank you, too, very much 😊xx
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