No Cliff, No.

I'm about 4 days away from taking my first holiday abroad as an adult. As discussed yesterday, we are not including Magaluf as a holiday as an adult for several reasons that include the fact I don't consider a holiday to have happened if none of the people who went on it have spoken to each other since the plane touched down.

I'm going to Prague. I'm about to do something that I've always despised other people doing and go to a country where I'll simply have to hope everyone else speaks good enough English for me to get by. I slightly hate myself, but I think 4 days to learn Czech is only going to result in me learning to sob with an accent.

The city looks beautiful. If we disregard the fact that the numbers of stags and hens out and about might make it feel frighteningly similar to a night out in Brighton or any Friday gig in a big city, then I'm looking forward to the change of scenery. There's something about a holiday that makes you change a bit and loosen up. Even I, the most frugal person I've ever come across who wasn't a Dickens character, have just said - "Hey, it's only £21 for a taxi from the airport to the hotel."

The only thing I'm worried about it what on earth we're going to do for 3 days. What do you do on holiday as an adult? As a child I know my holiday itinerary is this:

1. Get a pain au chocolat from somewhere.
2. Eat it.
3. Locate the swimming pool.
4. Be in the swimming pool looking warily at other kids until Mum makes you get out.
3. Get a baguette and wonder if you like Brie this year.
4. Eat it.
5. Get back in the swimming pool.
6. Get out of the swimming pool because mum says you have to wait an hour.
7. Get back in the swimming pool after half an hour because mum can't stand your whining any more.
8. Make friends with a kid from Derbyshire and talk about how you'll be best friends forever.

Repeat every day until you have to go home.

What do I do now I'm a grown up? Will I have to go to Museums I don't understand? WILL THERE EVEN BE A KID FROM DERBYSHIRE IN PRAGUE???

So many questions. So little pain au chocolat.