The real Malory Towers experience: Take your child to boarding school!

"You have to dress up posh too, mummy," says my daughter, half stern, half playful. "Or we'll never get away with it!"

Saturday morning and me and my 11-year-old daughter are going undercover.

We're going to the most expensive girls' boarding school in Britain (£37,275 a year to be exact) for their Open Day – as a pretend prospective pupil and parent. My bog-standard-state-school educated daughter has devoured Enid Blyton's Malory Towers series – just as I did when I was a kid – and her head is filled with a fantasy life of midnight feasts and hockey sticks. Wouldn't it be fun – and a tiny bit mischievous – to see inside that world for real? We're a little nervous (do we have the acting abilities to pull it off?), but really, what difference will one extra mother and daughter tagging along make? They'll barely notice us.

Wrong! All parents potentially willing to fork out £37K a year on their daughter's education will be noticed. People have flown in from all corners of the globe for this Open Day. It's a v. big deal. As soon as we enter, my bobbly coat is whisked off me (in the end I’d decided the I'm-so-posh-I-can-be-scruffy look would be more convincing) and we are greeted with fresh coffee, still-warm Danish pastries, and programmes with our names on (sports fixtures in school today: showjumping and lacrosse). 

A pretty, skirt-suited woman, a member of the leadership team, bounces over to us. "Just act confident," I whisper to my daughter. "It's all about confidence." The woman introduces herself and reassures us that she has worked in prep schools for many years before coming here so she "knows where the girls are coming from". "What school do you go to now?" she asks my daughter. My daughter looks her straight in the eye and says the name of her bog-standard-state-school loudly and clearly. I see the woman flicking furiously through her mental files of prep schools. Nope, that one's not in there. She moves on quickly. "So, would you be a boarder or a day girl?" "Oh, definitely boarding!" says my daughter, beaming. (Impressive acting!) "Oh yes, boarding is great fun," says the woman. "Like a perpetual sleepover, right? The other day, the girls all took their duvets down to the den with hot chocolate and marshmallows and slept there all night!" she continues, feeding my daughter's fantasies. 

Then she plucks us our own personal schoolgirl to be our tour guide: a quietly-spoken, very sweet girl in Year 8. I notice that both her shoelaces are undone and she has a big smudge across one of the lenses of her glasses (seems £37K a year doesn't get you quite the care from Matron you might hope for). "First, it's really great here," she says, without changing her expression."I have to tell you that first." (Have to? Like, instructed to?)

She takes us down Alice-in-Wonderland marble corridors and past a huge wood-panelled library with spiral staircases. "Wow, wow, wow!" my daughter and I mouth to each other with sneaky sideways glances. Her tour is interjected with bits of housekeeping information, like, "That's where you put your lac stick while you're in lessons". I nod, knowingly, as if lac is a word I bandy around a lot. 

I notice the door security code she presses to let us into the drama department is in roman numerals. (That should keep the riff-raff out.) She seems super-excited about using the lift to take us up to the theatre. "It's the only lift in the whole school," she tells us. "Everyone loves using it." I look at the buttons. There is only G, 1 and 2. "Erm, do you ever get to go out of the school?" I ask. "Yes!" she says. "Sometimes on a Saturday, Matron takes us to Waitrose." 

She escorts us to the astonishingly beautiful Assembly Hall with chandeliers, balconies and organ playing and we take our seats for an introductory talk and Q & A session with the Headteacher and senior teachers, a row of neat grey bobs and androgynous types in tracksuits. I get myself into slightly sticky waters when the couple next to me strike up a conversation. "It does make one reflect on one's own schooling, doesn't it? And whether you want the same or different for your own child." (Erm, yes, but not in the way you think). I bluff my way through with vague answers, reddening. I'm glad I put foundation on at least.  

The Head actually has a bun. And an ample bosom. Perfect. She's like a nice Miss Trunchbull and has a down-to-earth sense of humour. In answer to the question, "How do you keep the girls secure?" she replies, "Well, if I lose a girl, it's game over for me!" We're also reassured that House Mistresses keep an eye on the girls' table manners. She tells us that she went to this school herself. Now she works here. This is her world. "The chance to go into town with Matron [not just Waitrose] when they get to Year 11 becomes a wonderful thing," she tells us, without a hint of irony. 

Next we are taken to a Boarding House by two pupils from China. It is modern. Smart. Comforting, if not exactly cosy. We are greeted by the House Mistress (who lives in an adjoining apartment with her cat) and shown around: Dorms, showers, prep room, dining room. There's also a common room on every floor with sofas, cushions, beanbags – and microwaves. For their Waitrose-bought snacks.

Now, who says there's no such thing as a free lunch? It's fantastic. A choice of hot meals with a choice of hot side dishes, a salad bar, an assortment of fruit and desserts and cheese and crackers. We sit down with our trays and a group of five girls immediately join us. "Great food!" I say. "Yes," they agree. "Though you have to moan about school food. It's just what you do!" They seem eager to meet people from the outside world. Super-eager. They compete for my attention, talking over the top of each other, and I feel motherly towards them all. 

We're feeling really brave now and ask all the things we really want to know. Were you homesick? How often do you see your parents? Can you choose who you share a dorm with? Are you made to have a shower everyday? Do you have midnight feasts? They use words that are foreign to us like mufti and exeat and tell us the nitty-gritty details of their daily life: How their dirty laundry comes back to them washed, ironed and folded in their cubbyhole. How they have to do prep for an hour and a half every evening (though they're allowed to personalize their study booth). How you must walk to and from lessons with your Walking Buddy. How they get sanctions if they talk at night. And how they have to keep their mobile phone in a pigeon hole and are only allowed access to it twice a day (though one parent, they tell me with joyful horror, gave her daughter two phones, so she could secretly call her anytime). The chef rings a bell and two of them jump up like Pavlov's dogs. "That means seconds," they say. "Do you go to school with boys at your school now?" the others ask my daughter. She fends them off wonderfully. "Yes, but I  wish I didn't. Boys can be soooo annoying." She's way better at this than me. 

"So what are you doing this afternoon?" I ask as we get up from the table. "We're going to Waitrose with Matron!" they answer. "Everyone seems really keen on Waitrose here," I say. "Why's that?" They look puzzled. "Well...it's really big," one of them ventures. "So what's on your shopping list today? I ask curiously. "Strawberries!" they say. I look round at the food counter. There is a big pile of strawberries ready for the taking. Clearly, the thrill of Waitrose isn't about the food. 

As we enter the outside world, I'm eager to know my daughter's opinion of the place. "It's a bit like a prison," she says. In Malory Towers, it always says things like 'Daryl nipped off to post a letter', but those girls are there 24/7 – apart from when they go to Waitrose."

"That reminds me," I say."We need to get a few things for dinner on the way home. Let's go to that Waitrose over there." "Urgghhhhh..." she groans. "Do we have to?"

If you go down to the woods today: Go fairy-hunting

Fairy doors popping up in Oxfordshire said the BBC local news headline. Oh boy! Where were my wellies? I'm a sucker for imaginary worlds in the woods. The Magic Faraway Tree was my favouritest book in the whole world when I was a kid.

But where EXACTLY did we need to go to find these doors? It wasn't easy to find out, but eventually Google threw up some (enticing) directions: Cross the railway and go over the canal bridge. When you see the fairy wishing well on a tree by the gate, you'll know you're on the right path...

"Can I ask my friend William if he wants to come with us?" asks my daughter. "Yes, absolutely...[I stop, think] ... but maybe use the word 'elf' or 'gnome' rather than 'fairy' when you invite him..." [I'm being realistic, not sex stereotyping!]. He's up for it. And his mum says she's not missing out. We have our gang of fairy/elf/gnome hunters.

After a while, we start to wonder if we're on the right path. We've found nothing. And then there it is, a tiny wishing well with a super-cute rope ladder. 

And we're off, darting here and darting there, eyes scanning tree trunks, scrutinizing branches, till we make each delicious discovery. 

We linger over the details of the doors...

 

"A Chinese fairy must live at this one," says my daughter ...

"Can we make our own door and put it here?" says William. 

We know, they know, that there aren't actually any fairies, but it doesn't matter. It's exciting and happy-making all the same because it's out-of-the-ordinary, unexpected, mysterious. Someone (who?!) had the lovely idea to create these delightful doors and secretly crept around (at night?!) putting them in place. It merges the real world with the magical world of hidden, non-human creatures upon which so many children's books are based: The Borrowers, The Hobbit, The Indian in the Cupboard...

I half expected, half hoped Moonface would pop his head out of a tree to say hello. 

But anyway, let's get real. Want to go find these fairy doors for yourself? Send me a fiver and I'll tell you where they are. 

If you like this, you might like A fairy lives in our house. You can find out more about the Oxfordshire fairy doors here. You can also go fairy-hunting at Gelt Wood, Brampton, Cumbria. Fairy doors have mysteriously appeared there every summer since 2010.

A real eye-opener: Visit the National Guide Dog Breeding Centre

My daughter has a new friend who is visually impaired. She is easy and comfortable with him. Puts herself in his shoes. At least, knows to read him out the descriptions of the different flavours of Quality Street, not just pass him the box. She’s also started asking me to lead her while she walks all the way home from school with her eyes closed.

So when I recently found out you could visit (for free) the National Guide Dog Breeding Centre near Leamington Spa – which includes a ‘sensory tunnel’ where you briefly experience life without sight – it couldn’t have been better timing.

Our tour guides are Mary, from Cumbria, full of warmth, humour, snippets and stories...

...and Holly, a gentle brood bitch labrador-retriever, pregnant with her third litter of future guide dogs. My daughter and her friend can’t keep their hands off her! And she doesn’t seem to mind one bit.

They are going to take us around the centre and show us the whole Guide Dog ‘production line’ (output: up to 1,500 dogs a year!) – from pre-whelping (ante-natal in human terms) to the seven-week-old puppies who are ready to leave the centre and begin their socialization programme.

We do, however, politely bypass the “honeymoon suite” where the stud dogs and brood bitches do their thing – though Mary gives us an Adult Only aside: “They can choose whether to do it indoors or al fresco, and there’s a special rubber grippy floor and a grass mound – you know, for optimum positoning!” she winks.

Now I am itching to take you on a step-by-step blog post tour of the centre and blurt out every single fascinating fact we learnt – but as that would spoil your visit should you go, I will just give you a little taster and limit myself to: 

FIVE FUN FACTS!

1. A pregnant bitch spends the week before giving birth in a luxury suite with hydrotherapy and a 24-hour personal nurse in a bedsit next to her. (Note to self: In my next life, have my babies here!)

2. Each newborn puppy is marked with a splodge of pink nail varnish on a different part of its body so the carers can tell them apart.

3. Guide Dogs are trained to be spacially aware UPWARDS as well as forwards and sideways – so they will warn their owner, for example, if they are going to hit their head on the ceiling!

4.Guide Dogs are trained to obey their owner but DISOBEY if they think they know better than their owner. e.g. they can see a car is coming!

5.It costs 50p to get a Guide Dog (a token amount for paperworky reasons) but the cost of a Guide Dog from birth to retirement is £50,000!

And one unfun fact: 
By 2050 there will be twice as many visually impaired people because of the rise of macular degeneration.

When we get to have a go in the sensory tunnel, we are given special blindfolds to put on. “They allow you to open your eyes behind them,” explains Mary, “to make your brain think you should be able to see.” 

Then we go, alone, one by one, through the tunnel in total darkness. There are traffic noises and different surfaces underfoot. 

“That was fun!” says my daughter as she emerges from the other end. “But scary. It makes you realize how utterly difficult life is if you can’t see.”

An educational day out, for sure, but I’d be kidding myself if I didn’t admit that a huge part of the appeal for the girls was the Cuteness Factor.

“Even if you didn’t like dogs,” I overhear my daughter’s friend saying, “There’s no way you could look at those puppies and not think they were adorable.” She’s not wrong. I’m no dog lover and my heart’s turned to mushy peas.

And there’s a final bonus: Complimentary tea or squash and home-made cake – donations welcome, but no pressure to do so (the cynic in me had expected we might be pushed into signing up for a monthly direct debit!).

We leave full of red velvet cake, knowledge, empathy, appreciation of our sight – and awe for these very special creatures.

“I used to think when I saw a Guide Dog, you just put a harness on them and off they go,” said my daughter on the way home.”I didn’t know how much intense time and effort and money went into them.”

Then she reverts to a more basic side of herself. “Mummy, PLEEEEEASE can I have a puppy?”

Visit the National Guide Dog Breeding Centre's website here. You can also do a tour of the National Guide Dog Training School in Leamington Spa. 

Guest interview: "We ran away from crocodiles!"

This time, brothers Quinn (6), Aiden (9) and Luca (7) tell me all about their trip to Crocodiles of the World in Oxfordshire, run by Shaun Fogget of the Channel 5 series The Croc Man.

What did you think when your mum told you she was taking you to Crocodiles of the World?

Aiden: It was MY idea, actually. I went to my friend’s birthday party there a couple of years ago, so I said to mum let’s all go there and she said yes!

Luca: [can’t hold back any longer!]: Me and Aiden were running so fast because there was a crocodile coming near us! There were two of them!

Aiden: [annoyed with brother for jumping ahead] Can I tell you the unexpected bit?

Yes, go ahead.

Aiden: Well, when I was in the crocodile house we went to see the Siamese crocodiles, and we looked at them and when we turned our back they jumped at us – both of them – and we ran away because we were so scared!

But they couldn’t actually get at you, could they?!

Quinn: No, the glass was there.

But it was still scarey?

Aiden: Yes, and after that, we went over to the saltwater crocodiles and we noticed their teeth and we were like NOPE! So we ran away again.

Luca: One of them was really really hooooge. It was so hooooge.

Aiden: The biggest one was about 15 foot.

So these crocodiles can actually kill people in real life, right?

Aiden: Yes. They do something called a crocodile death roll. They grab onto their prey or person and spin it around and drag whatever they’ve got under water to drown it.

Luca [just to clarify]: And kill it.

Quinn: And then it’s gonna die and die and die until it’s put to sleep.

Did you get to hold a crocodile?

Aiden: No, just touch them. You CAN hold them but we weren’t there at the right time.

Quinn: I stroked a baby crocodile. It felt so weird. Kind of like really soft, and like a fish, but it was a crocodile.

Luca: Yes, it was so slimy. And when I was touching its tail, it tickled.

The man told us that if you put your hand near a baby crocodile or you swim near a baby crocodile, the mum or the dad keep chasing you and if it’s a Nile one it’s gonna be really speedy.

Did you see them being fed?

Aiden: Yeah. Dead birds. Chicken.

Did you learn the difference between a crocodile and an alligator?

Aiden: Yes, one of them has a small snout, and the other one I think is a different colour. They had both there. They had like a 100 crocodiles and alligators and caimans.

Luca: There were load and loads and loads. 

Did they have any other types of animals there?

Luca: Yes, parrots and...and...and...what else Aiden?

Quinn: Meerkats, and there was a hole you can go through and there was glass...

Aiden: ...like a glass dome...

Luca: ...and you put your head up in it and everyone can see you and the meerkat come and they’re running around your head.

What was your favourite animal there?

Luca: Meerkat.

Aiden: Black caiman.

Quinn: Black caiman.

Aiden: Cause it’s camouflaged.

Quinn: Cause it looks so awesome.

Aiden: Cause if I was a crocodile I would probably BE a black caiman.

Well maybe you’ll be a black caiman in your next life!

Aiden [stops, looks at me]: Do we actually HAVE a next life?

I don’t know, but some people believe we do.

Aiden: [making his mind up]: I think we do.

Would you like to have a pet crocodile?

Aiden: No!

Luca and Quinn: Yes!

Luca: Can you even GET a pet crocodile?

Quinn: [getting excited]: We can put it into a cage and we need some meat for it.

Luca: And it needs water. That would be MY BEST PET. And I’m gonna have that crocodile. It gonna be MINE.

What name would you give it?

Quinn: Nuke

Luca: No, Bobby.

Quinn: No, Duke.

Luca: Duke of Marlborough! [laughs]

Finally, what do you give Crocodiles of the World out of 10?

Aiden: 10

Quinn: 100.

Luca: 159 out of 10.

Visit Crocodiles of the World's website here. They are holding their first CrocFest UK on Saturday 15th October 2016.

Guest interview: “I went trampolining in an underground cave!”

*Plus WIN a family voucher for this attraction worth £100!* 
(see end of post)

This time I talk to Isla, 8, who went to Bounce Below, a series of giant bouncy nets connected by walkways and chutes in a huge underground slate cavern in Snowdonia, North Wales.

What did you think when your mum and dad told you where you were going?

I was really excited. But I didn't know exactly what it was...they said it was a "jumparound place".

What was it like when you first walked in?
Well, first you have to go through this tunnel to get into the cave. But then it’s really big...like the size of...HALF OF A WHOLE SCHOOL! It’s quite cold in there – I felt a drip on my head – but it’s really cool because there's lots of different colour lights shining on the walls.


















So can you explain to me what’s actually inside the cave?

There's lots of trampolines on different levels and tunnels in the nets and there's these chutes and when you go down them you have to put your hands like this [crosses hands over chest] so your arms don’t get caught. The way you get up to the top is really curly wurly and when you get up there and look down you don’t know how you got there.

Was it scary?
I was a bit scared on the first trampoline because there are holes in the net like this [holds fingers in a square] and you can see people underneath through the holes. Everyone said “Don’t look down!” The first time I went down a chute it was really scary because the first bit you just drop – it's like going down a black hole. My mum and dad went first!


Did your parents enjoy it?
They thought it was cool but daddy got a bit stuck in one of the chutes because it had a small opening. 

What were the staff like?

They were really kind. But you’re not allowed to do flips.

Was there lots of Health and Safety?!

Well, you have to put a hair net and a helmet on and if your legs are bare you have to wear a jumpsuit (but mine weren’t). My dad had to put nets over his shoes too...I think it was to stop him breaking the trampolines because he’s got big feet. When the dads jumped, everyone fell over!

Have you got any advice or tips for anyone who is going there?

Try and get a trampoline all by yourself or with your family because it’s much funner.

Can you describe it in just three words.
Fun. Exciting. And...umm...bouncy!

What score do you give it out of 10?
10.

WIN A FAMILY VOUCHER FOR BOUNCE BELOW WORTH £100!
(Four people age 7+).  All you have to do is:

1. Be a 'Liker' of the The Quirky Parent Facebook page - so click the Facebook button here if you're not already!

2. Then email the word 'BOING!' to quirkyparent@gmail.com.


Ends Friday 8th July 2pm. The winner will be chosen using random.org and announced here and on The Quirky Parent Facebook page.

This competition is now closed. The winner was Hari Vaudrey.

Quirky World: A wee jaunt to Edinburgh

It’s the Easter holidays and my daughter and I are on a £20 flight from London to Edinburgh. That’s £20 total. For the both of us. There and back. (You can knock Ryanair but they get us places other airlines aren’t cheap enough to get us!).

Then a 25-minute ride on the new swanky tram that runs from the airport to the city and there we are, slap-bang in the centre of all things Scottish.

We discuss what bagpipers might or might not wear under their kilts, try on some See-You-Jimmy hats, contemplate the idea of a deep-fried Mars Bar, and then set off to sniff out some of the quirkiest things to do in the city.

1. Go to a cat cafe

I am not a cat lover. So the idea of a cat cafe – a cafe with resident cats to pet, play and chill out with – wasn’t that tempting to me... Cat-hair sandwiches? Eau de litter tray? No thanks. My daughter, on the other hand, is definitely destined to be a dotty old cat lady, and I knew this would be a real treat for her.

So I booked an hour’s slot at Maison de Moggy and printed out the names, pictures and personalities of their twelve cats from the website for her to read on the plane. (“Look mum! It says Marcel likes having a chat!” Mmm. Really? I look forward to that.)

The owner greeted us with a quick run-through of the cafe rules before we were let loose to interact with the cats.

And I have to say the place was in fact very enticing. Halfway between a comfy living room...

...and an adventure playground for cats.

It was also spotlessly clean and odour-free. I loved the entrance to the tunnel which led to the cats' separate toilet area.

We were even asked to take our shoes off to keep the carpet clean for the cats. And actually, padding around in our socks just added to the relaxed, living-room vibe.

Drinks and cakes were available though there was no obligation to buy them as “some of our cats really like cake and you may not want to be pestered!”.

My daughter didn’t even stop to glance at the menu. While I sat on a sofa and sipped tea, she skipped from cat to cat, adoring them all. As did everyone else. It was like some sort of Feline Love Fest. Elodie, the Sphinx kitten, was particularly popular (ew).

My daughter's clear favourite though, was the more ordinary-looking Marcel.

Perhaps it was because he was such a good conversationalist.

2. Have your head served on a platter

The Camera Obscura & World of Illusions is five-floors of eye-tricking, mind-bending, body-distorting exhibits. One of those places you spend the whole time saying to each other, "Come and look at this!" and "You have to try that!"

Apart from having our heads chopped off, we swapped noses with each other, captured our shadows, shrunk our hands, stumbled around in the mirror maze, met our twin, drew with light, walked through the spinning tunnel, changed our faces to a chimp's and re-sized ourselves in the warped perspective room.

We couldn't even walk past a picture on a wall without it sucking us in. Can YOU see the hidden tiger in this picture?

At the top of the building, in a Victorian rooftop chamber is the camera obscura itself. This rather ingenious piece of equipment from the 1850s projects live moving images of the streets of Edinburgh through a pinhole camera in the roof. You can watch people and cars going about their daily business on a viewing table right in front of you.

Photograph: Edinburgh's Camera Obscura 

“19th-century technology!" said our guide. "The Victorians must have been pretty pleased with themselves, don’t you think?” Then he gave us all a piece of paper and showed us how we could play around with the images, like scooping people up onto the paper, or making a paper bridge for the traffic to drive over. “This is really fun!” said my daughter, with a slightly evil giggle.

We got even more excited when we discovered that the World of Illusions also had its own modern equivalent of a camera obscura – webcams spying on the people on the streets below that you could control yourself with a lever and a button.

Choose your spot, choose your victim and zoom on in, lip-readingly close. Catch someone swigging a can of Irn-Bru – or maybe eating a bogey! It was incredibly addictive. I did wonder about the ethics of it though.

My daughter was obviously thinking along the same lines. Because when we got back to our Novotel and were getting undressed for a swim, she suddenly stopped in her tracks, looked around the walls of the changing room and said, “Do you think there's a secret camera in here? People could be zooming in on us right now!”

3. See the UK’s only pandas and koala bears

Edinburgh Zoo has the honour of having the only Giant Pandas and Koalas in Britain.

All the koalas were actually fast asleep. They sleep 18 hours a day after all (there’s not a lot of calorific energy in eucalyptus, you know!). But we didn't mind. I mean, does it get any cuter than this?

The pandas, a male called Yáng Guāng (Sunshine) and Tián Tián (Sweetie) are on a 10-year loan from China. Being just inches away from a panda – sat in the teddy-bear position munching its way through a mountain of bamboo like every cartoon panda you've ever seen – was pretty special.

Although my daughter quickly spotted a difference. "You always think of pandas as perfectly coal black and snow white, but they're not, are they?” she said.

We only got to see Sunshine because the zoo likes to give the pandas turns at having time-out from the public eye. “They need private time,” explained the panda keeper. “To do things they’re uncomfortable doing in front of us. Just like you wouldn’t pick your nose in your living room if people were peering in your window.” At that very moment Sunshine entertained us all by going into a handstand and doing a huge gush of a wee-wee.

The rules of etiquette clearly weren't quite the same as for humans then. I always do my upside-down wees in private.

You can watch the pandas here on Edinburgh Zoo’s live web cam.

4. Go underneath the city

Photograph: The Real Mary King's Close

I love the idea of a secret world beneath our feet. A city under a city. And what do you know, Edinburgh has one! 

The Real Mary King’s Close is an underground warren of narrow 17th century streets and houses. Originally, the streets would have been open to the skies, winding downhill from the Royal Mile. But in 1753 the Royal Exchange was built on top of them and the houses used as foundations for the new buildings.

I'd worried that the one-hour underground tour by a costumed guide might be too scary or too over the head of my 10 year old. I needn’t have. Although it was incredibly atmospheric, the focus was definitely on educating rather than scaring, with enough Horrible Histories type humour and grossness to keep kids entertained.

Photograph: The Real Mary King's Close

In fact, our guide Agnes, a 17th-century maid, said it was her job to empty the household bucket of poo and wee twice a day, 7am and 10pm. She chucked it down the street like all the other maids from all the other houses and over the years, a lake of excreta formed at the bottom of the hill. Nice.

My daughter did jump at the sight of the life-like models of plague victims and she refused to go into “Annie’s room” where the ghost of a sad, abandoned, young girl was detected by a Japanese psychic as recently as 1992. Now visitors often bring her her toys.

Photograph: The Real Mary King's Close

But what most stuck in both our minds was the punishment of a woman found guilty of murder. She was tied up into a ball and with a little push sent tumbling down the hill to drown in Poop Lake. Apparently, it took her 40 minutes to penetrate the surface. Urgggh. 

"So how would you rather die?" asked my daughter on the flight back home. "Drown in Poop Lake or die of the plague?" 

"Drown in Poop Lake," I answered. "It's quicker." 

"Okay," she said. "Empty the poo and wee bucket, or have your face licked all over by a Sphinx cat?" 

Ooh...now that's a tricky one.

If you like this, you might like Warsaw, the cheapest family foreign trip ever!