My first travel memories are of being car sick in the back of my dad’s Hillman Imp somewhere around Penmaenmawr on the way to Anglesea. A lay-by was quickly spotted and pulled into, once I stopped feeling queasy and I had had my gob thoroughly wiped clean by my mum’s spittle moistened hanky, we were on our way again to the paradise island that lay beyond the Menai Straits. Luckily the travel sickness stopped not long after we arrived just in time for me to get mumps.
In the early seventies a week in a musty caravan in Benllech Bay was what any asthmatic little lad would want from a fa... full info