Caravan parks by the seaside have long been a beloved staple of British working-class holidays, and for many, they evoke fond memories of childhood. This past summer, I returned to the nostalgic charm of these coastal retreats, this time sharing the experience with my 10-year-old son, and it was every bit as magical as I remembered.
Growing up, these seaside parks were an escape from the routine, an affordable getaway for families like mine. I can still vividly recall my excitement in 1988, when I donned a bright red clown costume for the fancy dress competition. The reward was a cuddly toy and a stack of arcade tickets—simple pleasures that felt like treasures at the time. These caravan parks, full of quirky, retro charm, are the epitome of family fun, with games, bingo, and even performances that invited everyone to participate.
The static caravans, humble and cozy, lined up in neat rows, with clotheslines filled with damp swimsuits drying in the breeze. The parks offered everything a family needed: entertainment, community, and the freedom for kids to explore. From running errands to the camp shop to building sandcastles on the beach, there was no shortage of activities that allowed me to enjoy my independence while the adults relaxed or played bingo.
Affordability was key—back then, a week-long stay in a caravan could cost as little as $160 for a family of four, with all on-site entertainment included. I remember how we stayed with my grandmother in her caravan at St. Osyth, or rented one with discount coupons from a newspaper holiday club.
Fast forward to this summer, and I was eager to relive those cherished memories, but this time with my son in tow. Along with my husband, parents, and brother, we stayed at Parkdean’s Sandford Holiday Park in Dorset, on the southwest coast of England. The caravans looked much the same as I remembered, but there were upgrades, from fancier caravans with ensuite bathrooms to luxury lodges. The park’s amenities had expanded too, now featuring a thrilling treetop ropes course, a zip line, and bungee trampolines, along with classic offerings like a fish and chip shop and an ice cream parlour.
The entertainment was as lively as ever, with performances from Elvis impersonators, kid-friendly discos, and amusing events like the “knobbly knee” competition, where adults competed in a hilarious display of awkwardness that had the children in stitches. It was just as fun as I remembered—and my son, just like I had at his age, reveled in the freedom to explore on his own. “It was really fun to go off on adventures, or even just run errands, without having an adult with me all the time,” he said.
We also ventured beyond the park on a day trip to Durdle Door, a famous limestone arch along the Jurassic Coast. There, I watched my son gain confidence as he took an icy dip in the English Channel, laughing with my brother as they played, before heading off in search of ice cream. The intergenerational experiences were priceless—my son, my parents, my brother, and I all sharing moments of joy together.
On our final night, the entertainment reached a crescendo with a wrestling match that had the crowd roaring. My son, in particular, was delighted by the spectacle, especially as he witnessed his grandmother’s comical reaction to the match, covering her eyes in mock horror.
While the upgraded facilities were a clear difference from my childhood holidays, the one change that stood out most was the price. A week’s stay at a caravan park now costs upwards of $1,600 for a family, a stark contrast to the affordable trips of my youth. Despite this, the experiences, the memories, and the sense of belonging to a larger family community remain invaluable.
As I sat in the park’s clubhouse, watching babies in strollers, children spinning on the dance floor, and teens pretending to be too cool to laugh at their mum’s reactions to the wrestling match, I was reminded of the timeless joy of a family holiday. I hope these caravan parks continue to thrive, preserving a colorful piece of British working-class culture for generations to come.
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