Porquerrolles

We got back yesterday evening from a perfect press trip. I did write and tell you all about it but the blog seems to have vanished. I can only assume the tourist board of the Var, keen to avoid yet more visitors to the magical islands of Porquerolles and Port-Cros somehow managed to infiltrate my blog and delete it. Anyway, to sum up, it was totally perfect. Lots of sunshine, sea, sand, and not a PR person in sight. The only PR I saw a lot of was Pale Rose.

Then we came home. It started well. “Did you have a nice sleep?” was Leo’s first question. But then it went pear-shaped. Children, rather like animals, will punish you if you go away. The parental truth is that much as you NEED to get away in order to remain married, they don’t care. I mean they care about you remaining married but they don’t care what takes you away, they don’t like it.

They bickered and fought and pushed each other off the trampoline and argued and wept and generally behaved as badly as was humanly possible until it was time for bed.

But I was prepared for this. I had three days to prepare for this. And rather like a terrible hangover after a fantastic party I have to conclude that it was worth it.

Copyright: Helena Frith Powell 2007