Just before I started elementary school (I think...it might have been the summer before I went to first grade) my immediate family vacationed with my extended family, Canadian Division--that would be my paternal grandmother's relations. My parents borrowed my maternal grandfather's camper-truck and off we went. Considering how long ago it was, I remember the trip quite distinctly...especially driving on crazy Canadian highways with, in Arlo Guthrie's words, "a mountain on one side and on the other side there was nothin'...just a cliff and some air."
So, we camped in the camper up in the beautiful Canadian woods, and I was fortunate enough to sleep in the camper! Up in the top, in the special little bedspace! I thought myself very fortunate. I liked just about everything about that camper; the whole "miniaturization/maximize the use of space" has always been attractive to me, and a "car you can live in" seemed to me to be the height of fine living.
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