Locked down with my Ukulele 23

These are strange times when travel abroad is becoming considerably more difficult. First it was almost completely prohibited. Then it was restricted. Then its allowed but quarantined. Now the list of where you can go is fine. It’s getting back that’s the issue.

If you are allowed back you just can’t go anywhere afterwards. Anywhere! Your boss is going to love that.

Right now I want to be in a Mediterranean villa with easy access to a beach and a pool!

I was a kid when we went to Spain for the first time.

I love camping. I’m sure it’s down to times spent on holiday as a kid. Devon and Cornwall were favourite regular summer hunting grounds. Although it was a long days driving from Suffolk, the two weeks of holiday we had, has left me with several happy memories. I’ve still got some pottery pieces I bought with my “holiday money”.

Dad had bought an old army ridge tent. It had an awning that spanned the tent and gave a fairly spacious porch at the front that we used as the kitchen. I found out later that the tent had a leak and the orange awning was to keep the tent dry. This tent was to be home for the couple of weeks we spent in Spain.

Traveling abroad, for me as a child, was very exotic. Excitement built as the time to leave drew nearer. Preparations were made. One of which was to fit tow bars to the back of various cars, we were going with other families, and trailers were constructed.

Dad built one from plywood, which must have weighted a ton. He built strengthening strips to take out the wobble in the plain plywood sheets. He fixed these down with hundreds of round head black japanned screws. There were no battery tools so he must have drilled all the holes and screwed in the screws by hand. The screws gave the trailer a medieval stud effect. But! Best of all, Dad gave it several coats of polyurethane varnish. It smelled new and interesting and slightly fumy.

When I think of that holiday and all that we experienced it was the mixture of new smells I remember first. The trailer was the start. The tent and awning were of a thick canvas, tents today are made from light weight synthetic materials, if you’ve camped under canvas you’ll know the dreamy experience of that tent smell. I have met people who have camped and that canvas smell is why they hate camping.

It was also the first time I experienced the smell of a cooling Spanish evening. When the sun has gone down there is a smell of the night. The dry air cooling after a hot day has a palpable odour. It was the first time I smelled it and I love it.

We took granddad on this trip. I can’t remember if we all squeezed in one car or if granddad had a seat in one of the other cars. It would not be beyond the realms of possibility that he was squeezed in with us but I don’t remember being that uncomfortable. When I consider how unreliable cars were then the journey was always going to be an adventure. I do remember that all vehicles where thoroughly serviced before departure.

We were going to Salou in Spain. This was a round trip of two thousand miles. We did have a stop over in France at a beautiful campsite with a lake. Dad dove all the way.

My parents were always open to new things and food was one of them. So sampling local food was always going to be a part of the Spanish holiday experience. Eating out local restaurants was on the bucket list. They had learned that one of the traditional Spanish meals was a rice dish called paella. So this was ordered.

Salou is a coastal town so the ingredients in the paella were going to be seafood based. An enormous cauldron of rice arrived at the table, this smelled great too. Us kids had been presented with the safe option, Chicken and chips washed down with coke.

One of the primary ingredients in this version of paella was squid. Baby squid. Since then I’ve eaten squid several times and quite like it. What shocked my mother and father were the inclusion of the tentacles. Fair play to them they were in Spain and would have to pay for it so they had a go at eating it. Granddad didn’t have his glasses. He was stoically working his way through his plate.

He turned to my father and enquired, “what sort of meat is this?”

Not wishing to put him off he responded “chicken.”

“That’s a tough chicken.”

On the campsite was a bar and the jukebox played music that could be heard all over the site late into the night. It was 1972 and two songs were played constantly. When we got back dad bought the 45’s. I thought I still had them but I guess I must have worn them out, traveling back to those Spanish evenings.

Popcorn (by electronic music producer Gershan Kingsley 1969). Made popular by Hot Butter 1972

It was the 1972 version that we heard that holiday. Its distinctive electronic “pop” in the song gave it its title.

Heart of Gold By Canadian singer song writer Neil Young (1972)

This was a massive departure from the normal Young offerings and written while young had a back injury so he was sitting down playing an acoustic guitar. Maybe, it was due to his injury he was influenced to a different style.

It is said to be his biggest hit.

Stay safe