The above was of course frivolous. My earliest memories of holidays consisted of going across Europe in a couchette train, sometimes with the car on the train too, to a resort near Venice, and to the south of France, Bandol I think. As my father was a keen sailor we spent some holidays at St. Mawes and St. Ives in Cornwall (Devon?) and we used to go skiing in Switzerland. I don't think I got on a 'plane until I was in my teens, it was considered quite a thing then.