
Our orange tent had tricked me with false sunrise. I shivered as mist lapped at my legs. It was too early for the clank and splash at the communal tap, the scent and sizzle of bacon. Dad, who’d woken when I crawled over him to unzip the morning, whispered ‘Shall we explore?’ My plaits bounced excitedly as I nodded. This was day five of ‘life in a foreign country’ and there was still so much to see. Admittedly, the border was a mere seventy miles north of our home in County Durham, but they had different pound notes and a blue-and-white flag, and people who sounded their ‘r’s as if rolling them across pebbled paths...........more