The package holiday market is tanking, and I blame Instagram (and the weather)When my primary school friend Mark turned up at my door that summer with the gift of a model Spanish bull, I was conflicted. I would have preferred a sombrero of course, but otherwise, I was in awe. He had just come back from a package holiday in Spain. The sea, he reported, was warm! He had been on a plane! Twice! He’d eaten something called Pie Ella! This was absurdly adventurous for a Black Country family in the early 1970s. I think it was the same year our family went to Minehead Butlin’s and I declared to my stunned parents I was prepared no longer to participate in the knobbly knees contest.
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