At the start of summer my husband Pascal, 62, and I left our home in the south of France, got into our car and headed further southwards, checking into a gorgeous hotel on the Med for a week of sea, sand and sunshine.
After a late afternoon check-in and with the glorious rays of sunshine still strong, I decided to get some sun on my body. Our hotel was a small one and each room had a private terrace overlooking the sea. I’d already wriggled into a string bikini. After getting settled on the sunbed, I whipped off my bikini top. Then began liberally applying sunscreen all over.
Within minutes of having stripped off, I was lying
