A feeling of escaping from confinement of taking a deep breath and relishing the freshness of the air. The air smells of freedom.

The children stripped off so they could explore the gentle stream at the edge of the field, their intent voices drifting in the breeze giving a happy background whilst the adults erected tents.

The grey skies did not hinder the sense of enjoyment in being able to mix freely with friends.

 A pandemic has taught us to appreciate simple pleasures.

We wandered dreamily across the fields with grass growing so high that it was easy to lose the children.

We ate fine meals in country pubs and evenings were spent cooking over an open fire and drinking wine as darkness fell watching the flickering flames.

I am on the ferry from Portsmouth to Jersey. It is known as the slow boat as it takes 11 hours.

I was rather surprisingly allocated a lounger in a coded lounge at the front of the ship. I had not ordered it. I leant back with half closed eyes. It was mesmerising watching the grey slightly glinting sea sweep before me.

Eventually, I arrived in Jersey to meet a friend that I had last seen in my thirties. We are now both 80! Luckily, I had a white stick because we would have never recognised each other.

In fact, we were the best of friends when we were both 16 in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. We took off to the coast together and were actually allowed to stay alone in the care of servants in a pink painted bungalow, where we listened to Beethoven and Mozart, and floated on logs through the mangrove swamps.

I spent two memorable nights in Jersey in her magnificent house. She showed me the beauty of the island and we talked and shared life stories. Unbelievably she contracted kidney cancer from the spring water that supplied her house that was polluted with waste from farm land.  The kidney was removed and luckily, we are both still here!

It all felt as good as those distant days, when we floated on logs in the mangrove swamps.

Now, I am in an eco-cabin in a forest, solar lighting, be careful with the electricity, a wood burning stove. I am with my son, wife and 9-year-old Krishna.

The skies are grey and the forest feels intimidating and very present, yet we wander into it, my grandson finds it fascinating and I join his enthusiasm. He learns to whittle sticks with his penknife.

Now, I am in a perfect Dorset village, stone built and in a cottage that has an extensive modern kitchen, and a child’s room full of toys in perfect order. Krishna, is in heaven and I am puzzled by at this perfection.

Now, on the beach under grey skies. So English. I fall into the sea on shingle and have to be rescued by my son. They have wet suits and have such fun body boarding. I do go into the sea again a couple of times but got out after 10 strokes! It was icy.

I am now officially old, the longer I sat on the beach, the more difficult it was to get up. I have to get on my knees and lever myself up in such an awkward fashion.

This was my Summer.

When I returned home, I realised my kitchen met no modern standards.