Tuesdays, 4:15 PM


More often than not, we're down by the pool, barefoot running round the track playing "police-es and bad guys." The kids tear around, dirty feet and messy hair, smelling of chlorine. They're climbing rails, or hiding in gardens, stopping for a mem exploring the hidden corners of the hotel like it is their own. These are bits, various and sundry, that I like to remember.