Happy times in the tent?
Even though some of Luned's best holiday memories were in an orange tent, it didn't stop her from abandoning it after a wet week of camping.
"My gran couldn't understand why my friends and I had left the orange tent on that empty Eisteddfod Field. But after being soaked to our skins all throughout that wet and muddy week of camping, we had our reasons.
Gran was so concerned about the tent's wellbeing that she went on a quest to find it, with the full intention of bringing it back home with her. But the tent had disappeared off the face of Anglesey.
That tent had been an important part of my childhood. I sometimes envied my friends who would always jet off to faraway places on their exotic family hols. They'd get to meet Jason and Kylie on Ramsey Street, while I was left to entertain myself in much less glamorous company.
Our holidays were simple outdoorsy affairs that hardly broke my parents' bank account. Having said that, we ventured to what seemed to be every cwm and field in Wales. From the banks of Glaslyn to the cliffs of Aberdaron, nowhere in Wales was beyond our reach!
And it was always a rather sad day when the holiday ended and we'd pack the tent and place it back in its orange sack.
Perhaps, in those days, I didn't fully appreciate our humble tent, but now I can see how that simple canvas device was central to our holiday fun.
Maybe Gran was right. Maybe we shouldn't have abandoned the orange tent on that field in the wind and rain, with its fragile door open for the whole family."