Pure Delight: Our 1970s-style English Seaside Holiday Despite the Daily Rain | Emma Brockes

It was a rainy day at the pub when my children entertained themselves by playing with paper straws. In that moment, I felt a strong connection to the 1970s. While the Channel outside was turbulent, we were cozy and content inside. We have been on fancier vacations and had more thrilling experiences, but when it comes to pure delight, taking your kids through the nostalgia of your own childhood summer holidays beats any modern alternative.

I must admit that the motivation behind this experience has its downsides. Nostalgia can make us cling to the familiar and shy away from new things. As summer approached, I was aware that my itinerary was driven by sentimentality and a longing for the past. This feeling is particularly strong for those of us raising our children far from the circumstances in which we grew up. There was a small chance that my kids would reject this nostalgic trip. It seemed somewhat absurd to travel from our home in New York, with so many attractions in the US, to Ventnor, in the Isle of Wight, just to relive my own childhood memories. But I couldn’t resist.

For my kids, it was a steep learning curve. They asked, “What’s a pub?” – it’s hard to believe they are my children! Riding on the top deck of the bus in the Southern Vectis fleet was wilder than any ride they had experienced at Coney Island. Every time we went downhill, they squealed and raised their arms like they were on a rollercoaster. After the rain – which occurred every single day – they discovered the wonder of snails. They would stop every few steps on the footpath to save a snail in danger by moving it to safety. The thrill we experienced at the donkey sanctuary on a gray morning is hard to match, even by the Grand Canyon.

Of course, a significant part of the appeal lies in the sentimental value we attach to everything. Every street we walked, every crab sandwich we ate, evoked nostalgic memories not only in me but also in my father, who also enjoyed holidays in this area as a child. I assume that there will come a time when my children will travel far and wide to escape this kind of nostalgia. However, at the age of eight, they still find immense joy in expanding their horizons. “We’re tourists, but not really,” my daughter proudly declared as she experimented with British pronunciations. One morning, we hiked to the top of a hill and explored the beautiful town cemetery until we found the grave of an old friend who lived on the island. There, we laid wild flowers and cherries. Such emotional moments are hard to come by at Disney World.

I am aware that there is an element of snobbery at play here, reflecting the parenting approach that favors wooden toys over plastic ones and limits exposure to preteen shows on Nickelodeon. As we walked along coastal paths and sat on windy beaches, I marveled at how my city-dwelling kids could create their own fun. I also marveled at my own ability to leave the house without any distractions, not even pen and paper, to entertain them.

As a result, our 70s-style holiday was not only more enjoyable than an all-inclusive resort with scheduled activities for kids, but it also carried a sense of moral superiority. When my daughter, after playing in a field with two pine cones as dolls for an hour, held one up and exclaimed, “Nature’s Barbies!” I felt an overwhelming sense of smugness – a feeling I had never experienced before. The ever-changing weather only added to this sentiment. There’s nothing like enduring mild discomfort to elevate an experience from good to extraordinary. Therefore, it is safe to say that the English seaside holiday, whether nostalgic or not, is the finest vacation the world has to offer.