I've had a week in Devon with my DH, and for a few days our daughter. In a tiny estuary village called Shaldon, where the ferry, with its mock gun ports (painted in Napoleonic times) takes you across the river to Teignmouth.
Then you watch the cargo boats coming through an impossibly narrow channel to the docks, and marvel at the skill of the pilots!
Sometimes you take the tunnel through the cliffs to the beach 'proper' and make all kinds of scary noises to heat them echo, and smile at the parents carrying buggies, boats rings and kids up the steps. Ah, we remembered it well.
If you're lucky you'll see the net fishing from the beach, and maybe a shoal of mackerel in the river, watch the sun go down from the pub garden and listen to live music. Then wake up early and watch the sunrise.
Even in the rain, there's so much to do and see.
The weather was mixed, but it didn't stop us feeling glad that once more we'd returned there, and we will do again.
And so onto the south of France. Via a Logis near Rheims, in a tiny village, which dozed in the sunshine, and where we drank champagne in the courtyard to celebrate seeing the sun.
To St Paul en Foret, where we met up with DH sister and brother in law.
Great company, laughter and reminiscing.
Then the long drive north.
Finally back to Scotland.
Where the garden is very very green. And overgrown. and er wet!
But as much as i love traveling, it's so good to be home, wet overgrown garden and all. (and we did bring a little bit of our holidays home. and we intend to drink it!)