BONJOUR POWYS!

Wriggling uncomfortably on the groundsheet and wondering why campsites were always so bumpy, Matt said, ‘I suppose you’re thinking this is all my fault.’

‘What did you say?’ shouted Polly on the other side of the tent. ‘We couldn’t really hear over the sound of the thunderstorm.’

‘I said, I suppose you’re thinking this is all my fault.’

‘YOU REALLY ARE A CHUMP, MATT’

‘Yes, we are,’ chorused Polly and Amy.

There are some people who find comfort at night-time in the sound of heavy rain drumming against the roof of a tent while they are safe and warm inside. What these people forget is that they will have to get up in the morning. They will have to dress without touching the roof and letting the water in. They will have to leave the tent and squelch through a muddy field.

Whoever invented the term ‘glamping’ was clearly very lucky with the weather.

‘It’s going to be sunny for the rest of the week – I checked.’

‘Good!’ said Polly.

‘We still blame you, though,’ added Amy.

Polly, Amy and Matt share a flat in South London. Polly and Amy were at university together, and Matt is Polly’s cousin. In the tradition of the past two years, one of them has organised their annual summer holiday. This year, it was Matt’s turn.

In hindsight, the mistake was not entirely his fault. The three flatmates probably shouldn’t have discussed their holiday plans at two o’clock in the morning after a lively Saturday evening – and while Matt had a heavy cold.

Three days before they were due to set off, Polly and Amy had enquired politely about arrangements – tickets, hotel reservations, their share of the cost…

‘We’re glamping,’ said Matt.

‘Glamping?’ said Polly. ‘In Paris? I was hoping for a nice little hotel in Montmartre. I did wonder why you hadn’t asked us for a deposit.’

‘Paris?’ queried Matt, a little surprised.

‘Yes, you know, capital of France, city