Oh I do like to be beside the seaside!

With one day to go before holi-woks for two whole weeks, I'm remarkably calm considering these are contenders for the most random destinations since the time I decided to go to Helsinki...one November... but that was before the lobotomy.  The first week promises a commune-like week at a campsite in Champagne where we are hooking up with my circle of Wums (working mums) and their offspring.  I'm keeping an open mind about group activities though I draw the line at naturism.  I mean this is France.  Last time I looked, the French weren't big on shaving.  And besides, I don't have any accessories that go with nudity.  No. So we'll see.  I have bought a vintage kimono for the occasion.  It will be my multi-purpose garment and if nothing else, should distract from the Cesarean scar. 

I have a romanticised vision of hazy, lazy days and cool evenings with a perfectly behaved child and a charming husband.  Yep.  Pass the beernuts.

But it doesn't end there, hell no.  Then we're coming back to the UK and heading down to Paignton in Devon.  Boo-yah-kah!  P to the A to the I to the...Brrap!  The English Riviera!   I'm expecting a week of dodging mobility chairs and pikeys; little toothless simpletons with their Shetland ponies - but I might be wrong.  I gave The Silverback free reign to choose a destination, and he chose Paignton.  The last time the sausage-fingered destroyer of all manmade things - A.K.A. The Silverback chose a holiday destination, we ended up in Brussels.  So, every cloud....

At the end of the day, it's not where you are but who you're with and the effort you make right?

Yeah, I think I'll go horse-riding in Paignton...in my kimono.