Our Lass and I are off to an island which is known as a cruise ship destination of choice, has loads of ancient archaeology and, apparently, precious few dragonflies. Sound familiar at all?
First Born and her beau are soon to be married and the wedding ceremony is taking place on the island of Rhodes, which nestles between the Aegean and Mediterranean Seas. The trusty internet informs me that this is 2091 miles away as the damsel flies... and about 18 degrees Celsius warmer.
The dawning realisation that this would impact heavily upon our normal packing routine prompted a reappraisal via the medium of Facebook:
A pair of natty suits... or a pair of muddy boots?
Emergency money... or a t-shirt that's funny?
Stuff in case I'm out of sorts... or some fairly garish shorts?
And the answers?
Yes, no, no, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!
Apologies, for a moment there I appeared to be channelling Meg Ryan.