Place And Time

My grandmother loved caravans. She started out with a tiny one at restwick caravan park but eventually upgraded to a bigger, more luxurious model hat she won in a competition. I remember we used to walk past it on the way to the shops. “I would love to have that caravan,” she used to say. Then she won it. She was over the moon and we had somewhere lovely to spend our summer holidays.

These days it’s probably nothing special, just your average mod cons caravan, but in those days it was the height of luxury compared with what everybody else had. It was the kind of caravan that would have drawn envious glances from her neighbours.

It was cream and burgundy and quite roomy. We always managed to comfortably squeeze the whole family in there with my gran: me, my sister Karen and my mum and dad. We spent a few weeks there every summer from when I was four years old.

I always had the top bunk. I fell off it in my sleeping bag a few times. A few of them I remember, but my sister says there were a number of times when I fell off and carried on sleeping. I can’t see how.

It was always a very active holiday. I seem to remember playing bowls, skittles and swingball for hours before heading down to the dunes to fling myself into the sand. Then it was on to the swimming pool.

I spent a lot of time in the pool when the weather was good. On one of the occasions I got out, I stood on a wasp. My mum blamed my dad — she thought he’d stood on my foot — and I was crying so much I couldn’t tell her otherwise. He got into trouble for nothing.

It may have been summer, but it often used to chuck it down all day long. That’s the Scottish weather for you. When that happened, we sat inside and played cards. We were never a family who got bored easily. We’d always find something to distract us whether it was playing games or telling each other stories. I always imagine it will be like that with my own kids.

At night we ate in the little restaurant they had at the caravan park, which was the place where they held all the entertainment. During the day my mum cooked us sausage, chips and beans on the stove.

One year there was a talent competition and my sister and I decided to enter since we both liked to show off a bit. She got up to dance and then we got up together to sing Do They Know It’s Christmas?. I say sing, but what really happened was we couldn’t stop laughing and had to leave the stage completely mortified.

My sister came second for her dancing — she was beaten by a little boy who sang Ben by Michael Jackson. It’s funny to think now, but it was probably one of the first times I performed in public.

My sister and I used to sing at all the family parties, but I was always the backing singer with the fewest lines. Karen went to dance school so she was able to throw in a few impressive moves to go with the songs. Nobody would have guessed that I’d end up being the singer in the family.

The caravans were all parked so close to each other it was impossible not to know what your neighbour was up to. My parents and my grandmother spent most of the day — when it wasn’t raining — sitting out on the decking sunbathing, gossiping and people watching. I used to play with the little boy who stayed in the caravan next door and we’d either scour the golf course for golf balls or try to tame the rabbits, which never worked of course.

Even though I grew up in Glasgow, I’ve a real soft spot for Ayrshire and Prestwick in particular. My sister has a caravan in Ballantrae, which is further down the coast, and we all pile down there when the weather is good. She’s got a young baby and my little girl, Lana, is just a few weeks old so it’s the perfect holiday for two new mothers.

Whenever somebody mentions Prestwick, which they don’t very often unless they’re talking about the airport, I always get a little twinge of nostalgia for the place. We shot some of the scenes for Happy Holidays — which is set in a caravan park — on Irvine beach, which is only up the road but very similar with the big sand dunes. It reminded me of those happy summers in Prestwick, of endless running around and never getting bored.

Happy Hollidays, BBC1 Scotland, Friday, 10.35pm