Thank God it's Friday

Day One I always worry when we go on holiday. Did I lock the back door? Did I turn off that leaky tap? This time I have written a checklist. Then on the plane I say to my wife: "I remember rolling down the window to get a car park ticket, but I don't remember rolling it up again." She looks at me and returns to her magazine.

Day Two Valletta harbour, Malta. I stand on deck and make a speech to the man next to me about the Malta convoys "fighting from Gibraltar, and then the relief of making this very landfall". He backs away. After dinner I talk to a Manchester teacher about Ofsted.

Day Three Messina, Sicily. I stand on deck and go on about General Patton and the invasion of Italy. In no time I have space around me. After dinner, I have a conversation about QCA schemes of work with a head from Essex.

Day Four Naples. I wave my wife off to Sorrento and have two breakfasts. After dinner, a jubilee party. The DJ plays a hit song from every year of the Queen's reign. We sing along to "How Much is that Doggie In the Window?". I have a shouted discussion about examination board cock-ups with a head of geography from Hastings.

Day Five Olbia, Sardinia. The wind rises and the captain tells us to take our sickness pills. That night the bed alternately presses upwards, then leaves us hanging weightless. I quite like it.

Day Six Ajaccio, Corsica. The wind still blows. After dinner I talk to a classroom assistant from Cleckheaton about the effects of windy days on nursery kids.

Day Seven We're late back into Palma and nearly miss the plane. As we approach East Midlands airport, I crane my neck to see if I can see the driver's side window of my car.

Gerald Haigh is a retired primary head

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