Instead of a flashing neon sign stating that the campsite can organise a babysitter, we discovered this most vital of facts following a throwaway remark from the receptionist. So, how would the kids react when, for the first time in two and a half months, both parents left them to go kayaking?
Well, it turned out that the Babysitter, neice of the owner, was really quite a hit. After she left, Chloe professed her love for her, Maddie pretended to be her, and both asked if we could go kayaking again. Ungrateful little gits.
Still, it was worth the blow to the parental ego. The Soca river and valley where we kayaked appear as if they have been designed and manufactured to the specifications of a garish Las Vegan hotel owner. The valley could be a fibreglass cast of a perfect waterway, and the water that cascades through is dyed a vibrantly artificial shade of turquoise.
Since it is all, presumably, entirely natural, the effect is rather wonderful.
As is the effect of 3 hours peace from the children, in the company of one's wife.
Especially as the final score on the dumped-into-the- river-unceremoniously competition was:
Kayak Bronze Medallion holder Laura: 1 (during a fairly mild stretch of white water)
Complete Kayak Beginner Darren: 1 (while repeatedly practising an advanced manoeuvre using techniques learnt minutes before in a dangerously fluctuating eddy)
101 Uses For a Campervan #9. Mobile Library for readers of rubbish novels to come and swap their crap for something altogether more improving from our own collection of clearly superior reading material.
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