No, pragmatic Mom, as a matter of fact. She also vetoed the idea of caravanning (which we pushed, fired with romantic enthusiasm, which she viewed as nonsense, one year) with equal vigour. "That is not a holiday for me" she said, adding, in case we got too enthusiastic, "how about you guys do all the cooking, and cleaning and washing up, if you are that keen?" As we weren't - at that stage - the pretty decent chefs we became later on, this was greeted dubiously.
She made the very valid point that she had no intention of replicating what she did daily - in worse, or, more challenging circumstances - and that for her, a holiday was an escape away from daily stuff. Hence hotels, and so on.
I'll be honest here; what is thrilling to think about at age seven or eight, or ten, (tents, dens, pioneering spirit) becomes a lot less so as an adult, especially as a female adult.
As an adult, especially as a female adult, bathrooms and decent plumbing assume a while new dimension which one greets with unadulterated delight: Now, I don't envy male sexuality, but I do envy the sheer convenience of what the possession of such attributes allows men to be able to do, when, for example, camping when contrasted with the basic challenges of carrying out such physical functions when female; add to that the lashing rain, and groping about for my glasses in such an environment.
No, as it happened, I never got that experience as a kid, or in a context one might term 'a holiday'. However, it is something I will do - and have done - when work situations have called for it.
