We're about to go on our annual summer holiday. Normally we go to Krani in Greece (see above) which is this usually hot and basic Pellopenese mini resort for middle aged Brits, Dutch Lesbians and low ranking Russian gangsters. We've been going there for maybe 8 years in a row and it's sort of a family tradition. The steak and chips on the first night, the super locals only (nearly!) beach which you have to struggle to get to, the occasional cigarettes, fat juicy Kalamata olives and deep deep heat.
Well, this year we're not going there. Queenie is pissed off, the children are slightly confused about why it it isn't happening and I feel like a schmuck for pressing for a change. I feel like a schmuck anyway but now I'm also like the Grinch who stole the Summer Hols. We are going to Lake Maggiore in Northern Italy, basically because these friends of ours invited Johnny to be with their son at the Talented Mr Riplesque Hotel Cannero. Thought it would be a change. But what with summer being terminally crap here we really could have done with some Med UV. Instead, Freddie, the son of our friends has already told me 'How beautiful the lakes are when it pours with rain - Just like an Impressionist painting'. To hell with that. I want a tan to remind myself for a couple of weeks in September, at least, where all those thousands of pounds went. And how that our vacation wasn't just nagging and hanging around airports.
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