So the prodigal daughter has returned – back in one piece after three weeks around Europe with her friends, with no one to tell her what to do or when to do it.
From the edited highlights we’ve seen, it seemed to pass off without serious incident. No broken bones, no arrests and, best of all, no teary 4am phone calls saying: “It’s all gone wrong.
Pick me up at the airport.”
The biggest crisis on the whole trip was when they turned up at their hostel in the beautiful Slovenian capital Ljubljana and it didn’t have wifi.
Oh, the humanity!
Like Frankie Boyle said, most British people base their travel reviews on alcohol prices and daughter #1 was no different. You can get a slap-up meal and a drink in Krakow for £6, apparently, and that’s where she’s headed next.
They saw the sights by day and went out every night, sometimes getting in after most of us have gone to work – but daughter #1 still managed to stay within her budget and return home with what looked like a fistful of exotic-looking high denomination currency, which in point of fact was worth £14.
So it came as little surprise that within 48 hours of her return, she was off around Lancaster with her friends and announced her return home to the entire street at 3.17am.
We know this because that’s what time she woke us all up and left the stairgate open which let the dog run upstairs to eat all the cat food.
Her reasoning being if she can look after herself around some of Europe’s most vibrant cities then a late one in town won’t present any particular problems.
To be honest, since she got back we’ve barely seen her. She ordered her favourite dinner (Hairy Bikers’ chicken korma cooked by me) from Split airport for her homecoming meal, ate it, unpacked her rucksack, handed out presents and went to bed.
At the time of writing (four days later), I can count on the fingers of one hand the times we’ve been in the same room since.
It turns out home isn’t as exciting as trekking around Europe with your friends for three weeks.