The role of chocolate drinks in family memories

My daughter Isla flew to Barcelona this morning. Her boyfriend’s parents were flying in and they were delayed. While she waited, she sat and drank a chocolate drink. She messaged to share this news and to say it reminded her of childhood holidays in Spain.

That took me back to my own first experience of Spain. On the day before my 10th birthday, my grandfather drove my mum, my dad, and me down to Edinburgh’s Waverley Station to catch the sleeper to London. Before we boarded the train, he walked me along the platform to the engine, spoke to the driver, and lifted me into the cab. This was just as steam engines were being replaced and the engine throbbing at the head of our train was a giant Deltic — a huge diesel engine that retained some of the majesty of a steam locomotive. I was thrilled at the time and it may very well have been the seed that turned me into a bit of a train nerd later in my childhood. (And to this day, my kids would say.)

From London we flew the next day to an airport near Barcelona. Another echo. Our hotel was on the beach at a small resort on the Costa Dorada. And in the bar of the hotel I discovered small bottles of chilled chocolate drink. There was nothing like that in Edinburgh. Thicker than a chocolate milk — and tastier, too. It is still the taste of my first foreign holiday.

And when we first took the children to Spain, I made sure they got the chance to sample the contemporary equivalent. And they loved it, too.

I have been feeling down about the politics of the moment here in the UK. It was good to be able to draw on a memory of happier times and to share an experience across a generation with my daughter.

Have a good weekend.