ONE of my favourite photographs shows me looking particularly adorable (I really was an extraordinarily beautiful baby) with my four grandparents, both of my parents (not, for once, arguing) and various uncles, aunts and cousins in the garden of a borrowed French villa in about 1960. My father, like Rabbit, had a great number of friends and relations and it was his habit to invite as many of them as could be persuaded to join us on almost all of our family holidays. Whether this was to avoid having to spend time alone with his wife and children, to defray the expense or because he genuinely enjoyed their company is open to debate.
Regardless, what are now referred to as multi-generational holidays were pretty much the only sort of holiday I knew as a child. And how fantastic they were. The older members of the party spoiled me rotten and gave me tips. More importantly, I got to really know them and learnt about their lives
