Off for an unprecedented four weeks in France. Rules of Flight Club: no real clue of where we're camping, no real plan to see anything at all, no real agenda other than to sit in a field drinking cheap wine while the kids build dams across rivers. So we'll need to be near a river. Which is quite limiting. Still, look at us. Look at our tired, rat-raced, stressed-out faces. And look at our wicked campervan. By the time we get back, our attitudes to life will have swapped. The campervan will be well stressed. And we'll be covered in swirly paint. If you see what I'm getting at.