17 Oct 08
Now, I might have to admit to being a tad obsessional about car packing, having inherited my father's capacity to be driven quietly yet absolutely insane by 350 miles of something miscellaneous rattling somewhere in the car. Nonetheless, I fail to understand how someone who regularly chastises me for not folding shirts sufficiently tidily into a suitcase can still leave the back of an estate looking as if it has been loaded, from a considerable distance, by a large catapult...
Yes, we've been on 'holiday' in Cornwall again. There's nothing quite like a fortnight huddled against the rain in a holiday cottage to make you wake up one morning and realise that, suddenly, you're simply running a creche with someone you used to go out with. In fact, it was nothing like a fortnight. The rain proved utterly relentless and there are only so many jigsaws a grown man can do, so, smiling for the first time in over a week, we came home early.
Rain aside, the only downside to holiday cottages is that you have to take absolutely everything with you, from books, beach toys and favoured DVDs to a couple of sharp kitchen knives and the Lea and Perrins. But whereas the missus would happily tuck 50 or 60 individual items from the larder willy-nilly among the cases, as if preparing a giant luggage casserole for the oven, I have an aversion to the sound of breaking glass every time I lift the tailgate - especially if it's the Cote du Rhone - so invariably have to take everything out and start again.
Happily, the Mondeo Estate's loadspace is so vast and blissfully flat that, with a bit of head-scratching, it is possible to cram an entire fortnight's luggage on board and still leave enough clear air for a decent view astern.
