Camping (lost and found)
foto: Unsplash photos for everyone My father bought a second-hand caravan a few months before I was born and was well proud of it. He got it when my sister Beckie was a toddler, and my mum was pregnant with me. Besides, the caravan thing was kind of in the genes as my grandparents had always been camping maniacs. So my father was raised putting tent poles up and taking them back down again all over Europe, every summer. He is always telling funny anecdotes from his childhood holidays. They usually end up with him cracking up, as he gets to the part where he describes the look of utter surprise on my grandparents’ faces, the time they were having breakfast outside their tent in East Germany; and suddenly realised nobody in the site was wearing any clothes at all. Apparently, they packed up on-the-spot and left with some lame excuse about my father having a temperature, and he was made to keep a thermometer in his mouth in the passenger seat as my mother drove out, for enhanced believabi