I got shipped out to I.o.W. every summer holidays with my older brother to stay with our grandmother. Our mother really didn't want us at home. In fact we went there just about every school holiday except Christmas. They were the very best holidays. Grandma had a beachhut on the seafront at Puckpool Park. We would head out just after breakfast at 8am and return home at 6pm come rain or shine. Grandma ran a pub in St John's, Ryde so if we were out with her all day, Grandpa would be in charge. They were idyllic summers with adventures all the way.She had such a terrible childhood growing up spending time in Hong Kong, summers in the South of France and then the endless Safaris in her teens. I don't know how she survived, we were lucky to get a trip to Ramsgate! I'm welling up just thinking about how hard it must have been for her.
Then for the last 10 days of the school summer holidays we would be collected and taken on the "family" summer holiday in a caravan towed on the back of dad's car. Both bro and I would probably have preferred to stay on the Island!