A prize to the first person to tell me where the headline comes from. Because I can't remember myself.
We've just returned from a week in the woods. Griffon Forest, in Yorkshire. It was just what Buffy and I needed, some time away from rubbish modern life, dingy sarf-east London, rude commuters and the internet.
We stayed in a gorgeous log cabin deep in the middle of nowhere (that's 'just outside York' to be precise) complete with hot tub, four-poster bed, jacuzzi bath, peace, quiet and all the mod-cons you could possibly want for a week of hermitude. I have no idea if hermitude is a real word, but if not I'm claiming it as a neologism.
Normally, I return from holiday with handfuls of tales, most of them stories about what went wrong, but the whole week was a happy blur of laziness and lounging. We spent a lot of time in the water, even more time in bed, quite a lot of time shopping and a fair amount tramping about in the woods. We watched a lot of DVDs, glugged champers in the steamy hot tub while stars twinkled above the treetops (Buffy only sipped; I glugged), fed the birds (blue tits are SUCH bullies) and I went for a long bike ride to a weird village called Strensall which had nothing apart from a pub, a Tesco Express and a military shooting range. Yep - really. Every morning, we were awoken by the distant crackle of machine gun fire.
We ventured into York a few times, running up enormous taxi bills, though apart from visiting the Cathedral (rip-off, £7 to see some stained glass windows and a very disappointing crypt) we didn't do anything touristy. We just bought stuff in high street shops.
We attended the launch of Habitat's new VIP range for kids, though I was able to resist buying the Christian Lacroix monsters. Just. That same night, we went to an Indian restaurant where we tackled the biggest naan bread in the world ever. Look, I'm not kidding:
This was the second most interesting meal of the holiday. The most 'interesting' was on the first night, at Tykes restaurant, a short walk through a muddy field. We had risotto. Imagine eating a large bowl of salt, with some more salt poured on top, swimming in a salt sauce. Hmmm. Afterwards, the waitress offered us a free dessert because there was "something wrong" with the main course. She wasn't bloody kidding. Then we walked home down a pitch black country lane, armed only with two tiny maglites, and Sara had a Blair Witch style freakout. Oh, if only I'd had a video camera with me.
Here's Buffy not having a Blair Witch style freakout:
It was a brill, ace and fab holiday. It had to be, because next time we'll have Quiche in tow. Yep - our last kid-free holiday until Quiche is old enough to be left home alone. So, seven or eight years then...
There will be lots more about the holiday, including more pictures and Sara's very own perspective, on Sara Sizzle.
Finally, I've just discovered an amazing band. They're called The Sounds, they're from Sweden and this is the video for their new single, Tony the Beat. Single of the year so far:
