Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
child to the bar for you! One can only imagine the drama some people would make out of
that.
We were one of the first groups to leave, at around one in the morning, and we only did so
then because we needed to check on the zoo at home, but it was a great evening. We had been
in the area a few years by now and had been told by some that being 'accepted' around here
could be very difficult, it's a very close-knit, rural community. Large families all living in the
same area inevitably means that 'outsiders', while not being ignored exactly, find it difficult
to integrate and that, socially at least, people tend to stick with their own. We had found it
quite the opposite. We have good friends who we can rely on and the community, largely via
the schools and seeing other parents, has welcomed us warmly to the point where we are a
fixture and that feels good. It means also that I feel less guilty about leaving Natalie and the
boys when I go to work on long trips. I know that they're not alone.
Having said that, I would still much rather be at home obviously which is why when the
summer holiday rolls around and Natalie and the boys want to go somewhere else, I'd rather
stay put in my own house for once. There are people who would pay thousands to have what
we have just for a couple of weeks' holiday so I don't see the point in us paying thousands to
find something else that we already have. A holiday for me would be at home, a holiday for
them is away from home.
I thought about this as I sat on the private beach of our campsite just outside of Biarritz.
There's something about sitting on a deserted beach surrounded by dead jellyfish that makes
you take stock. I once swore revenge on the entire jellyfish species for stinging me in Tunisia,
but these flaccid, dehydrated beasts couldn't do any harm to anyone now and in a way I felt a
kind of affinity with them; spineless creatures who had ended up in a place they didn't want
to be.
I hate camping.
We'd been to this campsite before and it's a luxury, four-star affair with, like I said, a private
beach, nice restaurant, good shop, friendly, welcoming atmosphere, etc. - but it's still a camp-
site. The first time we came we brought a large tent and it seemed like it took most of the
holiday to get the bloody thing up, then our blow-up bed developed a slow puncture so that
by the time the thing had completely deflated, about five in the morning, you'd wake up with
a mouth full of grit. Samuel got bronchitis. I swore then never to sleep in another tent; so we
had come back the following year in a caravan. Now, I can see the attraction of a caravan
(sort of) but it's a stressful business. There's this stereotypical image of a driver towing a cara-
van and being completely oblivious to the traffic behind him, the beeping horns, headlights
flashing and so on. Well I can tell you from experience that it's not ignorance, it's fear. Tow-
ing a caravan is incredibly hard work and an intense seven-hour drive while the kids argue
relentlessly and your wife tells you constantly that 'you're going too fast' is no way to start a
holiday.
