My Worst Summer Holidays Ever!

A Memory of Broadstairs.

I was sent there for the school holidays to recover from Whooping Cough when I was 8 years old. It was awful. We had to sleep in a dormatory with a nun in charge who slept behind a curtain. Every time I coughed she would come and shout at me so I spent most nights with my head under the covers trying not to cough. I dreaded breakfast. We had to eat porridge with sugar which I hated and drink tea with no sugar which I hated! My parents came to visit one day and brought me some sweets which were conviscated. I tried to write a letter to my parents asking them if I could go home but they found out and made me write a letter telling them how much I was enjoying myself! The only time I liked was going to the beach where we were allowed to collect shells, take them back and paint them but that only happened once! I'm glad it's gone but will never forget it!