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Arrived back home yesterday following a two-week holiday on a campsite just outside Platja D'Aro (or, as the Spanish would put it, Playa D'Aro,), which is, as I expect one or two of the folks over at Counago and Spaves can confirm, about equidistant from both Girona and Barcelona. It was a very nice campsite and the town itself was okay as holiday resorts go. It's a very rocky coastline round those parts so there were very very few beaches which could run for much longer than a few hundred yards, which made it all the more lovely, as the beaches were split up into individual alcoves. Many hours were, needless to say, spent lounging about at either the beach or outside the mobile home reading. Holiday reading this year consisted of the always brilliant Ellmore Leonard's City Primeval, Joseph O'Connor's Inishowen (flat ending to what had been a pacy read up to that point, I thought) and, the highlight, Alexander Dumas's Count of Monte Cristo, a classic. Coincidentally, a recent adaptation starring Guy Pearce was on the box last night and wound me up as it bore very very very little relationship to the book. In fact, while I'm on the subject, I don't think the very complicated and detailed plot can be managed in one film, that's why the five-part French TV serial with Gerrard Depardieu that was on British TV a few years ago worked so well as it offered the opportunity to delve into the intrigues and plots the Count undertook.

Anyway, I digress...

Catalunya really is a beatiful region/country with lovely green hills and mountains as far as the eye could see. We visited various little towns around Platja D'Aro and spent a day in Barcelona, with Parc Guell, La Ramblas, Placa de la Catalunya, Bari Gotic all featuring on the itinerary of a busy day in that most exquisite of cities.

'er indoors and the boy and his friend flew out from Girona airport on Saturday afternoon, so we took advantage and spent the morning in the city and wished we had spent more time there as it was totally gorgeous around the Cathedral.

As I'm shit scared of flying, it was hop on bus to Barcelona for me, spent another nice afternoon there and got the overnight train to Paris, but that part of the journey started off badly as I received a text message informing me of Celtic's defeat to the forces of darkness earlier in the day. The only thing of note about my couple of hours in Paris were the two controlled explosions in the Gard du Nord while I was there - probably only someone's dirty washing or souvenirs which are now no more. And then it was back home yesterday afternoon.

All in all, a very nice and relaxing couple of weeks were had by all, with the only problem during the holiday being the boy and his friend having the same designs on a girl at the campsite which caused a few tense discussions involving all concerned. I didn't look at any news or newspaper all this time, apart from taking a peek at a paper last Thursday morning to check out the England score - ha ha ha!

I now have another week off work, during which I intend to do absolutely nothing and I'm particularly looking forward to the watching the fourth Test starting on Friday.

Oh, by the way, I note that all my favourite bloggers have been really busy over the last week or so, please keep it up!

* The 1970 England World Cup Squad