*This is a companion piece to a similarly-themed article on Karen’s site which, all things being equal, should be published at roughly the same time. We have not read each others entries before publishing, and have taken care not to discuss them.*
When I was a kid, I used to go on holiday with my family to places like the Yorkshire Dales and the Lake District and Cornwall. Sometimes we’d go further afield, like Scotland or North Wales or Brittany. I think once we went to Edam. On the whole, we liked to stay in England, and usually for only a week (we tried a few fortnight-long holidays, but agreed that a fortnight was too long for a holiday). Sometimes I would go camping with my mum. I have a story about that.
In my first couple of years at secondary school, there were school-run trips to France which I went on. We got up to all sorts of mischief, I’m sure you can imagine.
During my University years (and the period immediately after) I went on a few holidays with friends. Matthew and I went to Dublin and Amsterdam (not in the same trip, I hasten to add) and I also went to Skegness with half a dozen friends. This was back when I was an appalling, and irresponsible, driver, and I was one of the two designated drivers on the trip. I didn’t crash into anything, but I did have a couple of near misses, and I am ashamed.
After I met Karen, I went on holiday more often, and much further afield. We’ve been to Dublin, Prague ( ), Venice, Budapest and New York. We’ve also been on holiday in England, to the Yorkshire Dales and the Lake District.
Since Bernard was added to the family, we’ve been to Cornwall, and are soon to visit Center Parcs for the first time (I’ve borrowed a bike rack from Bob  ). Hopefully the three of us will visit plenty of fantastic places together.
At some point, I’d like to see Iceland and Scandinavia (perhaps as some sort of Northern Ocean cruise?) and various places in the Far East (inspired by a couple of friends). This all may have to wait for another 17 years, but then again, maybe not.