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the caravan park
Image added, credit: Shutterstock
Just about every summer, we went camping. Boxing Day was for packing up our stuff, and on the 27th we'd set off with the tent tied down on the trailer. I loved mornings at the caravan park, where everything happened. The first thing would be the cry of the paper boy, strolling past the campsites with a cry of "Here'ya'r, paPER!" To get everyone out of bed for the morning news. But who could stay in bed? It was summer and the weather was beautiful. Then the milko would come in his van, bipping the horn to get everyone ready to line up for bread and milk. In the evening, just as we were done washing off the sand and getting ready for dinner, it would be the paper boy again, with his cry of "here'ya'r HerALD!" for the evening news.
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