We loaded up Bertie this weekend and headed West to St Davids for a family camping weekend. We didn't really do much, just mooched around the beaches, did some cliff walking (in flip-flops. Never underestimate how unprepared we can be) and watched a lifeboat launch.
My Dad, stepmum, step sister and her boyfriend (who Finn hero worships) were staying on the same site and we almost broke the tradition of disastrous camping trips until the last day when we were battered by gale force winds, the car broke (it is 85 years old) and my Dad sliced his head open. Standard.