Summary
Hank Marvin's guitar lick at the start of Summer Holiday has a Pavlovian effect on me. It takes me back to long drives to the coast, arguments about sandwich fillings and failing to keep a rather pungent-smelling dog pacified for any longer than five minutes.
The 1960s ode to the seasonal getaway has much resonance for my family. Why? Dad insisted on playing it at the start of every holiday. And the middle. And the end.See the full content of this document
Extract
Graeme Demianyk
Typically, whenever our glorious summer destination reared into view, be it Blackpool, Southend or Rhyl, Dad's digit finger would hove...
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