I am still wading through the pile of photographs, both mine and my mothers. Hundreds of them, mostly being thrown away before we move house. Mom kept all hers in labelled shoe boxes. Duplicates and bad photos. Stored for decades and never shared. Organised clutter.
Occasionally I find ones with real significance. To discover that Mom had taken a photo of a church, that years later I chose as a place to scatter her ashes, was moving and very comforting.
And then there are the ones that make me smile. The ones that capture her personality, the things she did on her holiday. The maddening things and the silly things, that remind me of her and of happy times.
Mom often went on a whim, and travelled solo often.
Then there was the time she went to Croatia just after the war for independence. And Turkey, always by herself and always making friends.
She went to Greece a lot, usually with her sister in law, Brenda. Brenda was a carer for her husband, who had MS, so this was a welcome break for her.
One year they went to Tunisia.
They did like dressing up.
And riding Camels.
Even when she took us long walks and we got lost.
In Spring 2011 I went to Dalyan with my husband. Mom hadn’t come because she was struggling to get travel insurance due to her illness. We had been there a day when I got a text from my son.
nan says she will meet you in the market on sat
As I said she did things on a whim.
Our last holiday together was in 2011. I booked a lovely house overlooking the river at Fowey, with a balcony where she could people watch.
This is what my mom did on holiday.
She also climbed into cages with tigers in Thailand and went on a micro light plane in Dalyan, not found those photos yet. Look out for part two.