Following in father’s footsteps

Have just got back from spending four long days with my father in Falmouth, Cornwall. Five hours in a car is hard enough with anyone, and when that person hums constantly and thinks they’re driving in a Formula 3 race, it’s even worse. Chester only gagged once, though, so it was something of a successful journey.

Being in a car with dad when he’s driving is a little like being on a fairground ride that’s working great: it makes you feel horribly sick. To avoid stomach spasms and deep breathing exercises, I try and sleep. If I am able to relax, I’ve noticed that while he’s busy pumping the brakes or accelerator (yep, he’s a double-pumper), my head tends to bob up and down like one of those nodding dashboard dogs.

Falmouth, where we’ve been, is approximately 300 miles south west from our home in Salt, Staffordshire. Dad came out retirement a year ago and recently purchased a brand spanking new apartment with a view to turning it into a luxury holiday rental on the southern coast of Cornwall. After four days of buying furniture, ordering curtains and kitting out the kitchen I’m knackered, and he’s delighted. The place is fantastic and is already taking bookings.

You can check out his website at falmouthapartments.com. And, if you’re interested in staying there, mention my site on the enquiry form and you’ll receive a 5% discount. Plus, I’ve been promised £25 commission for each booking I refer, which will definitely come in handy getting around Europe.

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