Rollercoaster

Beautiful beginnings. Rapturous welcome from the girls as I arrived in Bristol 10 minutes late for Frida's Newsround debut. Despite taking a car load of possession for Mum and Dad to store when we leave, I manage to come away with a broken BMX and a scooter for the girls. More things to store. Gathering fixable items is verging on obsession.

Arrive home at 10.30pm to see a light in the caravan. Mark is moving around frantically with sticky tape and cardboard. It seems some numbskull has put the window through. We discuss how it happened and put our heads in our hands, imagining the hassle involved in getting it fixed.

I take the girls to bed as Mark effects a temporary repair. They are happy and relaxed. School is off for six months. Tomorrow they start at 'Caravan School' and are excited at the prospect. They go straight to sleep, cuddling their new pillows - a gift for their travels from my mother. They are obsessed by the smell of them. Silvie's smells of raisins and Frida's smells of 'new' - the word has taken on the form of abstract noun.

We paste a 'Staff Room' sign on the dining room door in preparation for the morning.

Good fortune smiles on us. I check my emails and get an update from the 'safari enthususiasts' club. Seems a member had his window smashed that very day. For a moment, I think Mark has been supremely organised and has posted our problem on the message board. Just underneath is a remedy. 'If someone put it in you can take it out'. Ah, the simplicity of old things. It includes concise instructions on what to do. Thank you AlecGatherer.

We plan the day ahead.

Mark debates whether to sleep in the caravan, Rambo style, in case of repeat attacks. We decide against it.