Saturday 7th May 2011
Every summer my Mum & Dad would pile my sister’s and I into the car and drive the 954 miles to our holiday destination. I was 6 weeks old when they first took me but they had been doing it for years before that. It used to take us 2 days to get there. In the early days, when my sister and I were babies, we used to sleep the night in the car with my Mum, and my Dad would sleep in a tent behind the car with my big sister before continuing the journey the next day.
I don’t remember the hours spent in the car. It was a pretty quiet affair by all accounts because my big sister, Claire, suffered from travel sickness. I do remember very vividly stopping at the Spanish border one night and watching my Dad tuck into a tapa of squid in tomato sauce. I’d never seen anything like it before. My Dad ate it with such delight I figured it must have been good.
Our (my sisters & I) culinary holy Grail would come once we had reached our final destination. We would always arrive just before lunch. To the right of the apartment, where we always stayed, was a little square with shops and places to eat. What we were most interested in was the hole in the wall where they sold freshly made chips. My Dad would park the car and the 3 of us would jump out and run up to the chip counter.
Not the sort of thing you would expect to wait 954 miles to eat but the best bit about the chips was the huge blob of mayonnaise that they squirted on top. Chips with mayonnaise were just as foreign as squid in tomato sauce as far as I was concerned. We didn’t have it at home at least. The mayonnaise tasted so eggy – Wonderful stuff.
We take it for granted now. But we still get some odd facial expression from waiters if we ask for mayonnaise with our meal, when we go back to the UK.
Zeph only eats mayo with chips, nothing else.
Don’t look at me! 😉