Richard McComb chills out under canvas in the south of France.

It was more than 20 years ago that we last slept under canvas at Argeles on the south-west coast of France.

Back then, we didn’t have a mortgage and didn’t have a car, arriving by overnight train with back-packs and sore feet, having yomped to the site from the local station.

Crucially, we didn’t have children. What a difference a couple of decades make.

All those years ago we chose to stay at a site called Camping Le Soleil because, well, it sounded sunny. And it was – or rather it was when our tent wasn’t being lashed by the thunderstorms that can whip up along this stretch of coast near the Spanish border. We always looked back on the place with a fond affection, our memories of the sandy beach and clear sea dominating those of fork lightning. Whizz the clock forward a couple of decades and we jumped at the opportunity of returning to Le Soleil, once again with Canvas Holidays, whom we travelled with on a bargain early September break in the late 1980s.

As luck would have it, we found ourselves on a pitch about 100 yards from our earlier encampment, where a fellow, lone camper bore a striking resemblance to Baron Bomburst, the nutty fictional head of Vulgaria in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. He had a fantastic wood-panelled caravan that must have been state-of-the-art when it was built circa 1949.

The parc has been extensively expanded since that first visit and what was once trees is now a landscaped overflow of pitches which spreads out towards a river buzzing with birdlife. This is an unashamedly large site, thronging with young families, some of whom have travelled in convoy with friends from all points north and east of mainland Europe, creating mini-Eurovision fiefdoms.

Despite its sprawling size, Le Soleil has retained that intangible essence of a foreign campsite, with shady spots under tall trees and the crunch of pine needles under foot. And like all campsites, it is best experienced in a tent.

Canvas Holidays, like all the big operators of its type, now runs fleets of mobile homes with all the latest widgets, air con fixtures and sanitation systems. When we first came here, mobile homes were a luxurious rarity; now they appear to outnumber the tents.

We, however, opted for the old-school appeal of a tent and you really can’t beat it for the chill-out factor. There is a basic fridge and a cooking area, electricity, lighting and mattresses on sprung beds, but the feeling is of simplicity rather than modern lifestyle specification.

We have stayed in mobile homes before, which are brilliant with very young children, not least because you can cage the runaways in. But you tend to stay outside more in a tent – eating, reading, snoozing and chatting en plein air, which all adds to the sense of flopping about, mentally and physically.

The only gripe in this regard, concerning relaxation, is the horrific fairground adjoining Le Soleil which strikes up in the evening, just when you want everything to quieten down. If I had wanted to lie in bed at night and be bombarded by the howl and thump of what sounded like Apache helicopters I would have gone camping in Afghanistan.

I love this camp site and its facilities, the gentle day-time ambiance, and have nothing but praise for Canvas Holidays’ tents and its helpful couriers. However, the site’s rules specify silence (and no driving) should be observed from 11pm but this seems a little academic if World War III is raging half-a-mile away until post midnight. This might not bother you; it did bother me.

The fact the night-time bombardment did not overshadow our experience is a credit to Camping Le Soleil and Canvas Holidays.

The place benefits from a superb location alongside a sandy beach, to which there is direct access. The Mediterranean is never more than a five-minute walk away, which is a godsend in high season when traffic can get very heavy along the coast.