My only memories come from the brilliant holidays in France. Constantly listening to 'The Goon's' tapes in his caravan, taking Talcum Powder down to the beach to dry his feet! You could hear him from the other side of the campsite shouting about and screaming! He always used to come over to my caravan and have lunch with us because we had Branston Pickle, he couldn't get enough of the stuff! Then for every hour of every day he was messing out about being his usual loud self whether that be riding his 'new bike' around the campsite pulling 'killer skids' or throwing all my clothes and towels into the pool then running and bombing them to the bottom! And not to mention his high pitched girly laugh whenever he was tickled!! He made every holiday what it was.