Dream vacation
Oh! To be back in the mountains!
Growing up all of my summers were spent abroad.
My grandpa had built a summer house ~ a large wooden cabin, built with his bare hands ~ back when my mum and her brothers were children. Every year we would all pack up for the summer and head to the country.
My mothers aunts, uncles, cousins, and various other family members all had their own summer homes within walking distance.
It was a beautiful place, lots of land for growing plants and produce, and space for building tree houses, pitching tents, and all kinds of adventuring.
We were just a short bike ride from the harbour. You'd be sure to meet a relative or two on your way to buy an ice cream at the harbour store, and you would almost certainly find my mum’s cousin messing about on his boat.
The cabin itself was at the foot of a mountain. The water for drinking, washing, and water fights came from the mountain via great lengths of hose pipe.
Our days were spent up a mountain, on the sea, or frolicking around in the great green outdoors.
Our nights would be spent by the log fire playing yahtzee, or chinese checkers, perhaps reading, and definitely eating delicious home made waffles, pancakes, or biscuits.
Unfortunately after my grandpa and other relatives began to age, and then pass away, the houses and the land were eventually sold. My cousins, still living abroad went on to buy their own summer houses. My last summer at the house my grandpa built was when I was eighteen.
If I could choose any vacation I would go back in time and have one last summer with my grandpa. Failing that, I would choose a summer somewhere as close to my childhood summers as possible, and share it with the family that I've made.
There really is nothing like time outdoors for grounding. Touch some grass, hug a tree, sit by a river, Let Mother Earth bring you home to yourself.