I'm on holiday in the Isle of Wight with Jac, his dad and dad's girlfriend, and her seven year old son, Dylan. Dylan's an absolute sweetheart; he and Jac have only just met, and already you can see how much he looks up to him.
So we pulled up last night at the place we're staying at, and it's this darling cottage with a little arched front door like a church's, with flowers climbing all around it.
As you go inside it steps down slightly, set into the ground. The living room you enter from the front door is decorated with pictures and ornaments of animals; mostly African -- lions, zebras, giraffes, and particularly elephants. There's two pictures in the corner of Ganesha, painted on skeleton leaves and framed.
On the far side, next to the fireplace, is an old, winding wooden staircase that splits off at the top into two directions: one one side, a double room, which is mine and Jac's, and on the other, a single room which leads through to another double. In there, there's a door that leads outside -- up a couple steps and around the corner into a little rooftop garden, covered in grass and moss and flowers and snails, with trees all around. At the back, there's a wall with a gate standing ajar, hidden under dark foliage, and begging to be explored.
Back downstairs, behind the staircase, it splits two ways: one side leads to the bathroom, on the way to a huge kitchen and combined dining room; the other leads to a sun lounge, all painted white and decked out with wicker furniture and painted white heart decorations.
The whole house is like something out of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves; there's shells all over the place -- the bathroom has a giant pink conch on a shelf; the kitchen is full of cool decorative stuff like pasta and lentils in kilner jars and a pestle and mortar.
And that gate in the garden wall.. that adventure is mine, tonight.