Back In The Village

No alarm should ever be set for 'three anything'.  Ever.

However, twenty-two hours, six time zones, four airports, three planes and a luminous orange fast-track connection ticket later, seven (of eight) pieces of luggage, four grumpy children and two tired adults arrived back to "daaadeeeee!", perhaps the most favouritist person in the whole entire world.

In four weeks we completed ten flights, slept in four houses, visited three different countries in two time zones.  We celebrated one wedding, four birthdays, met scores of people we knew and hundreds of people we didn't (or that the kids couldn't remember).  We filled two prescriptions for antibiotics, had one visit to an out-of-hours doctor, and doctored many an inflamed bite.  There were too many cups of tea and slices of cake, parks played in and memories created to count, and all in saw only about four days of rain.

Now though, time to hit that pool again...