At a similar age my family got a car, and instead of the usual Essex or Suffolk coast holiday by motorbike and sidecar, we went on holiday all the way from London to Scarborough, where my stepfather was from. We stayed on a caravan site on the headland at Filey.
One very sunny day we went to the beach at Scarborough, and I blew pocket money to be taken round the bay in a large wooden rowing boat with a handful of other passengers. The skipper let me row it (presumably 'helping' him, as I don't think I'd ever rowed before and doubt I'd have been able to propel a heavy boat much or far). I loved it! I shelled out again to stay on for a second trip. My pocket money was then expired, but the skipper gave me a third circuit free 'because I'd been rowing' (I appreciate that kind gesture even more in retrospect than I did at the time).
I'd been bitten by the boating bug! (An eventually very expensive addiction, I now see, despite the free third trip round the bay!)
That night we got back to the caravan site with both myself and my younger sisters, who'd stayed on the beach with my parents, bright pink and badly, painfully sunburnt. We had to slather ourselves in calomine lotion, and we winced and yelped in pain from both that and trying to lie down and cover ourselves with a sheet.