petite anglaise

Despite the fact that…

• I spent one night throwing my guts up in a bathroom which smelled of eau de septic tank
• Tadpole had to be taken to see a doctor with a suspected ear infection
• Tadpole’s ear meds made her throw up
• On one of our boating trips, the boat left an island stop WITHOUT US (and who in their right mind leaves a heavily pregnant woman and a six-year-old on an island in 40°C heat minus their belongings?), leaving The Boy with no choice but to swim heroically after it

…we had a fantastic time in Turkey.

The landscape was beautiful. The beaches were largely unspoilt (thanks to the presence of loggerhead turtles who nest in the area and prevent any sort of permanent construction.) The ruins made this ‘old stones’ lover very happy indeed. The food was yummy (although, predictably, Tadpole lived on a diet of cucumber, tomato and chips). The people were über friendly, especially to Tadpole, who now boasts a large collection of complimentary lucky eye charm beads and bracelets, and I was forced to coo over at least twenty pictures of newborn babies belonging to various waiters, taxi drivers and hotel owners. Tadpole learnt how to snorkel, and the way her face mask compressed her mouth and nose, resulting in a Meg Ryan style trout pout provided a constant source of amusement. And the dance she performs when wearing the shocking pink, jangly coin-infested costume I bought her from a bazaar in Istanbul is truly a thing to behold.

But the funniest moment, in my opinion, was when we returned home to Paris and I handed Tadpole my phone to call her daddy, who has now whisked her away on yet another holiday. Of all the things we’d seen and done, what did she tell him about? The turtles? The snorkelling? Her new costume?

No.

‘We saw a DUNG BEETLE daddy!’ she cried into the telephone. ‘It was rolling along a really big piece of goat poo-poo! And guess what? Manuel managed to kill the plante carnivore on my Princess Peach DS game and he opened up a whole new level for me!’