Summer in England and Sweden, and dodging the raindrops

Yesterday it reached 27 degrees and at 6p.m it's still to hot to sit in the conservatory at our home. The mosquitoes are ferocious and I have to refuse my son's offer to jump on the trampoline with him - he seems immune to their bites but I certainly am not.

It feels like we are still recovering from a jam-packed holiday in England, the first visit in nearly 3 years. Rain greeted up, of course, although the second week was better in Cornwall, but no wet weather was allowed to put a damper on what turned out to be a fantastic holiday.

Not only did I get to meet up with my family - the children made firm friends with their American cousins and have since been keeping in touch by phone for the first time ever (t's fun to listen to what 7-year-olds have to talk about for nearly an hour) - we celebrated my father's 75th birthday in style at a beautiful place in the New Forest, we also spent a week in Cornwall, staying in Padstow and touring around. A place close to my heart and somewhere I had been longing to show my husband and children. It didn't disappoint.

Padstow was the summers of my childhood. This was the first visit back for over 25 years and I loved it. It was exactly as it should be. Beautifully restored fisherman's cottages, bright coloured houses, narrow cobbled roads and an array of shops, boutiques and restaurants that create a wonderful atmosphere. Some shops still existed from my childhood. On our first evening of the holiday, the children asked for a stick of Padstow Rock to eat. Having listened to tales of my summer vacations, of "99" ice creams, sticks of rock and crab fishing, they were eager to try everything. Rock was bought daily, and when it tasted as I remembered it - sweet and sticky but perhaps not quite as good as I remembered it as a child, all those years ago. As for my youngest, he wants to know "Mamma, why are there so many yummy goody delicious shops in Padstow?"

More on our vacation in the next article....