I kid myself that I'd have trawled the cheapo flight sites, searching for the travel holy grail: conveniently timed flights for the price of 6 bottles of plonk - for any more than an hour. So, you have saved me hundreds of pounds and a frustrating hour's web-search.
Putting my dates and then a generic UK to Spain into the search bar - and there it was: row upon row of £39 return flights from here to there...
We're off on holiday. Again. 12th - 19th October.
Spain, of course. Again. Tho this time further North - the Costa Dorada, to a little place called L'Ampolla on the Ebro Delta.
|Beach just down from the Apt - L'Ampolla, gateway to the Baix Ebre|
And because it's only an hour from Barcelona we'll get a chance to gasp at the Sagrada Familia again and wonder at Las Ramblas and worship at Camp Nou...
We've rented a fine apartment 100m from the beach. The car is hired. Evan, Jamie, Ana, Robert and I cannae wait.
Until then they have school to attend; lessons to learn. Except they are already talking about travelling and what they'll see and do. Ana's mildly concerned about the cats - but only mildly. Evan's slightly worried his passport won't be renewed in time - but only slightly. Jamie's sang froid is impressive. Robert knows he'll need the break because he's frazzled already and working flat out for an inspection.
As for me - I've clients to be advised and represented. Tribunals to prepare for. Professional folk to liaise with. Conferences to attend and speeches to deliver. And that was filling me with a sense of dismay. Except now I've something to look forward to...and strangely it's made me enjoy work more.