In 1955 when I was 10 years old my Dad took me camping at Arbroath and for the whole week I was so ill with a tummy bug that eventually a local doctor had to be called to our tent. I remember a large number of campers, including the campsite owner, had gathered around and were observing me with grave concern. Fortunately I recovered a little before the end of the holiday. Four years later, on an overnight cycling trip, I returned to the site and was amazed that the owner still recognised me. However, because I was so cold in the night and didn’t sleep a wink I dismantled my crude tent about 4am and cycled back home without ever having paid for my pitch. 55 years later I still feel guilty for that!
A memory shared byon Dec 19th, 2013.
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