There’s been a bit of a gap in my blogging thanks to a quick half-term holiday – to be precise five days at Center Parcs

There are those who suspect these holiday-camps-in-the-woods are a subtle revenge from the Dutch for any jokes the British have made in the past about dykes, flatness and other sensitive subjects. Those who hate Center Parcs point out that it’s expensive, the spelling of the name is cringe-making, and worst of all it’s a non-holiday. This is because to get the best out of Center Parcs’ magnificent range of activities, you have to have a military style schedule, planning out how you use every hour. And don’t we go on holiday to get away from the dreaded schedule?

I can’t really argue with the first two negatives (though the impressively high year-round occupancy rate suggests that they can’t be too important), but for a writer, the third is anything but bad. There is something soothing and reassuring about having a schedule when your day is normally lacking in imposed structure. I wouldn’t want to do it every week, but it makes for a very effective break.

So thank you to those nice people from Holland for giving us what I can’t help but think of as Centre Parks.