Next week I’m off to the coast for the Khan family holiday. My mind is full of questions, such as “What outfit will make me least visible in this caravan park” and, “If I am seen reading The Arabian Nights, will I be reported to the Home Office?” You see, we’re taking a holiday via the Sun.
The Sun offers discounted stays at holiday parks if you collect tokens. It has changed our lives. Growing up in a single-parent family, we didn’t have the money to vacation. But through Sun Holidays (or hell‑idays), we took our first family trip three years ago, as grownups. I hold on to the beautiful memories: my siblings discussing how long Uncle Tariq has been a total tosser (his whole life or just the last few years?), or if we should bother with the nature walk because Auntie B – who has lived in the UK for 35 years – insists her Arctic coat is not warm enough for a mild British September morning.
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I wouldn’t change anything, apart from the anxiety that comes with staying in a flimsy box in the middle of nowhere with my clearly foreign family, surrounded by Sun readers.
If only we had our own retreat by the sea, such as this elevated Edwardian six-bed in South Wales, offering isolation and no one tutting at you for cooking strong-smelling curry. Big enough to find time alone, even with my family, and with sea views from most rooms. Sartre said hell was other people, but maybe he just needed his own balcony.