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Well, we're back home from a lovely (and it was lovely) week in Paris.

We went there and back by Eurostar (slumming it in Standard Class this time, though; we spent the money one getting a centrally-located hotel instead). As ever for us, the journey was part of the holiday. Or rather it would have been if the handle on my suitcase hadn't broken early in the outward journey.

I might (if I ever get time) write up a fuller account of what we did. For now, though, the highlights were:

• Taking a tour of Paris in a lovely red 2CV.

• Letting Louise drag me to Disneyland and enjoying it. Mostly.

• An evening dinner cruise on the Seine that must be one of the most romantic things we've ever done.

• Meeting up with our old friend and restaurateur Patrick and reliving some memories of me working a lot in Paris in the late nineties.

However, as I'm now back, there seems to be a whole raft of things to do. There are 136 e-mails for a start, although I suspect most of those are junk. Then we have to go to the optician's, to collect a mysterious parcel at the Post Office, see the respective mothers, collect the cat and the - just possibly - start taking a proper look at how many of the 800+ photos we've taken between us are actually usable!

The holiday was supposed to be a rest before as "busy time". I think I'm already realising that it has been.......