Travels with my mother ...

I’m writing this week from Albufeira, Portugal,  where I’m on holiday with my eighty-four year old mum. (That’s not her by the way!)

The last time this happened I was fifteen.

Then,  we were in Jersey, an island between France and the UK, staying in the kind of Bed and Breakfast where the door was locked at 10pm, the breakfast juice came from a powder, be…