God it’s cold, and because I’m messing about on the computer I keep letting the kitchen fire go out. And someone’s let a cow or something loose in the garden, there’s big craters all round the house. And B ate J’s trifle on Christmas day. And did I mention how cold it is? And the water here is still a funny rust colour, and two bathrooms still don’t work and we’re not collecting B til tomorrow. Oh, and I’ve just had the loveliest email from C, all about her cute new little nephew, and what a lovely Christmas they had - and they’re going round to see R tonight and I miss them all sooooo much…boohooooooooo….

And just to compound my depression, I’ve now downloaded the pictures from the holiday and have been reminded just how wonderful it was. Here’s a little snippet for you. Just in case you didn’t know, Goa is on the west coast of India and our resort was 26 acres of little bungalows, mingled with a few two storey little houses, palms, lawns and a lovely beach, with sand so soft that it almost crunched like snow when you trod on it. The sea was warm and a luscious greeny-blue, and the shore was littered with beautiful blue starfish and tiny, scuttling hermit crabs in their pointy shells. The Goan people are gentle, kind and funny. Nothing was too much trouble and they smiled and smiled all day long. They made so much effort for us it was incredible - even when they didn’t really need to. As we walked along the dusty red road in the little town, everyone would wave and call out hello. It really is the most amazing place.

Here’s a pic of our little bungalow for you. We had two bedrooms and two bathrooms, and a tiny little veranda to sit out on in the evening (not that we ever did because we were too busy beering it up in the bar). To get there we had to walk down a little cobbly path and we were surrounded by lawns and the most beautiful bougainvillea (must check the spelling on that) covered in pink flowers.

A few days before Christmas, the hotel strung thousands of little fairy lights all over the palms and trees along the paths, and all over the palms around the pool. It was absolutely magical and I’ll never forget walking through the evening heat to the outdoor restaurant called, in a fabulous Abba-esque way, the ‘Mama Mia’, with the lights all twinkling around us, and chinking our glasses feeling like the luckiest people in the world.

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