The strongest - and generally the best - memories of your childhood are often from family holidays.
Many of my own holiday memories are banal, and yet I feel warm fuzzies when I think of them.
I remember getting lost at Island View Motor Camp, near Opotiki, a couple of times. And Dad pulling over on the Kaimais so other cars could overtake us as we laboured along with the old caravan on the back of the Triumph.
I remember getting a devilish ear ache, and my mum driving me to Whakatane Hospital late at night. I was howling.
In my teens, beach holidays involved bogan activities, all set to a very bogan soundtrack.