Me, my brother and sister were allowed to choose a holiday destination for 2010. We chose Florida. to compensate for that we had to go somewhere our parents wanted to go in the six weeks holidays. They chose Italy. My little brother, James aged 7, was amazed when he learnt that Chou meant hello and goodbye. He addressed every Italian that walked by. Italian women kept asking if me and my mum were sisters, i just buried my head in my hands whilst my mum turned a lovely shade of pink. My dad was enjoying the ferry ride across lake Como to villa Carlotta, he was trying to take a snooze but was kept awake by some mouthy Italian lad shouting mamma mia every five minutes and later my dad announced how much he wanted to clip him round the ear. Then my sister poured suncream down my Dad's Fred Perry shirt to help him into an even better mood. That day we looked round a Italian version of a national trust house, as if it wasn't bad enough having to visit one every weekend in England. My dad decided it would be a good idea to avoid the 'rif raf' and ignore the sign pointing to picnic area and to set up the blanket in the middle of the botanical gardens. He was just about to tuck into his pork pie when an Italian on a over-sized lawnmower told us to clear off. Back at the villa at last after a half mile walk through pitch black cobbled alleys in high heels from a restaurant that didn't sell pizza. So... the house is supposed to sleep 8, yet my brother, sister and I are in one small room with two fans and no air con. My brother sleeps with 5 teddies and is not impressed when my sister has smuggled one into her bed. He feels the best way to retrieve his Teddie is to jump on her and shout in German like a member of the Gestapo (influenced by the film 'where eagles dare' that Dad made us sit through for 3 hours. Overall lovely and picturesque. P.s the weather was fab.
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