All About August: In the first of a series on holidaying in Ireland, Róisín Ingle asks some devoted mobile-homers why they treasure their weekends away more than anything

Patricia Scanlan doesn't just holiday in her mobile home in Barndarraig, Co Wicklow. She wrote most of her latest book, Two For Joy, there, occasionally looking up from her laptop to drink in the view of cornfields, cattle and light mist rolling across the hills.

Ask any devotee of a typical Irish mobile-home or caravanning holiday why they keep coming back and they will reminisce about childhood breaks full of adventure in fondly remembered locations. Scanlan has equally precious memories. "As a child we had a mobile home in Rosslare Harbour, and I remember the excitement of going there and straight away entering a different world. I think once you do it this kind of holiday gets into your blood," she says.

Her mobile-home break begins at the start of the season, in March, and winds up at the end of the summer, when she reluctantly heads back to her home in Dublin. "I get down here and the first thing I do is grab a bucket and mop and wipe down the outside of the mobile, and that's the extent of your maintenance," she says. "My time here is spent mentally decluttering. There are no landlines and no e-mails. The biggest decisions you will make involve whether to go to the beach or lie out on the veranda." The television remains largely unused, except to watch the news and weather, the latter of which is a topic of "great fascination".

Most mobile homes are fitted with everything you'd find in a conventional home - some even have dishwashers and three-piece suites - and Scanlan's has central heating, double glazing and a fridge-freezer.

"If I was asked to choose between foreign holidays and my trips to Wicklow I would choose the mobile home. This is my haven, the place I long to get to. There is a great social life here, but at the same time if you want peace and space to think this is the kind of holiday for you," she says.

A more recent convert to mobile-home culture is Dermot Lacey, the former lord mayor of Dublin, who chose to recuperate from a hectic year as first citizen by joining his wife, Jill, and two small children at their newly purchased mobile home in Kilmuckridge, Co Wexford. The attraction, he says, is that the site is safe for the children and an environment where the neighbours will become friends after years spent holidaying there. The atmosphere reminds the former scout leader of a jamboree.

"There is a good old community spirit here, people helping each other out, everyone walking around with smiles on their faces," he says. "You see a lot of fathers like me who are working, coming down every weekend to join the family. And it's like the holiday has started as soon as you step foot on site."

Nora Heraty of the Irish Caravan & Camping Council, who runs a site at Westport House, in Co Sligo, says that although overall numbers are down for rentals she has noticed that families who might normally travel to France to camp are trying out parks at home instead. "There is an ingrained belief in the superiority of continental sites, but sites in Ireland now operate to such high standards, and that belief doesn't really stand up any more," she says, adding that smaller Irish sites can offer a personal touch not always found abroad.

Facilities have been upgraded extensively in recent years. Most modern sites will now feature pay phones, laundry rooms, tennis courts, football pitches and games rooms. Some even boast golf, bowling, swimming pools and a hot tub.

Up to 50 per cent of business is made up of repeat customers.

"What you hear from both children and adults is that they enjoy the sense of camaraderie, the sense of belonging to a place even on holiday, the fun of meeting the same people year after year," she says.

Although that notion may be anathema to holidaymakers desperate to escape exactly that kind of familiarity, the community element of park holidays is an undeniable draw for thousands of Irish holidaymakers. Sharon Bolger, from Ringsend in Dublin, recently bought a mobile home after yearning for a countryside getaway for years. She chose a site in Co Wexford, at Parklands near River Chapel. "There are loads of people from Ringsend here, so it's like a home away from home. One of the caravans is even called Ringsend Rose," she says. On a good day she can leave Dublin at 7.30 p.m. and be at the door of her mobile home in 70 minutes. In the two months since she bought it she has spent only one weekend at home.

"What is great about it is that you don't have to book anything. You just get in the car and go. You barely look at the telly, and you don't spend money in the pub. If you get the weather you have breakfast outside and go for walks and look at what other people have done to their mobiles," she says. "My only regret is that I didn't do it years ago."

• Friday, part 2: Messing about in boats

A home from home

You'll enjoy it if . . . you like a neighbourly atmosphere and the sound of rain on a cold tin roof.

Where should you go? The smart set head to Brittas Bay, where rumour has it they spend as much time in the beauty salons of Wicklow town as they do at their sites. And there are hundreds of decent parks around the country with first-rate facilities.

The good news For mobile-home owners this break means less packing: you can leave holiday toys, clothes and non-perishables in the mobile for your next trip.

The bad news You risk being called trailer trash by your envious non-mobile-home-owning friends.

Who will you meet? Teachers, families and lots of yummy mummies.

What should you pack? Board games and playing cards for the rainy days.

What's the damage? Decent second-hand caravans cost from a few thousand euro upwards. A top-of-the- range mobile home could set you back 180,000. Renting is reasonable, though, at about €500 a week. And with gin and tonics on the veranda instead of at the pub, think of the money you'll save.