Husband had the 'brilliant' idea of trying to recreate photos from our honeymoon. Only problem was that we forgot to take the original photos with us so we had to guess roughly what they were. I'd looked at them recently for an article I wrote so they were in my head.
Then it was camping in our little tent; forty years later it was the luxury of caravanning.
Back then Husband had more hair and less belly; I had naturally dark hair and less belly.
We were trying to be subtle in these photos. Back then, in 1978, topless bathing was unheard of in the UK so we wanted to get a shot of some bare boobs just to show how decadent France was. Yes, you have to look very closely to spot them.
Amazingly my boobs actually seem to have got bigger with the years. I thought they were big enough back then.
Me pretending to be a page 3 model. As you can see the waves weren't quite so obliging the second time around. I felt a proper charlie pretending to leap and splash in non-existent surf.
I think I've mentioned before that we had a leaky radiator that needed regular refilling - and meant that we had to have the car's internal heating on at full blast all the time. This time no repairs needed just a quick wash of the windscreen to remove dead flies and bird poo.
Husband thinks this was taken on the journey down but my remembrance of it is being on the homeward lap and I don't think you can tell from the photo but I am tired, cross, hot and generally fed-up with this marriage lark. Actually I look much too happy; perhaps it was on the way down.