Grand Tour.(THE STRAGGLER)

'LIKE a military operation!" I boasted to my brother, flourishing the book in front of him. The book was actually a sheaf of 79 pages that I had hole-punched and bound up in a plastic report cover. Through the clear plastic front could be read the title: DERBYSHIRE FAMILY VACATION, 2005. Eight little divider tags told the story: "Schedule," "Planes," "Car hire," "Hotels," "Train," "Maps," "Addresses," "Notes." This was a two-week European vacation, meticulously planned, mapped, ticketed, and scheduled. We had just got as far as England at this point, and I was visiting my relatives. My brother, who actually spent 22 years of his life in Her Majesty's armed forces, smiled cynically, and passed a sardonic remark about the usual progress of military operations. I could see he was impressed, though.

He certainly should have been. Vacations bring out the systems analyst in me. Though in daily life I am a rather slovenly, ill-organized person, the prospect of a family vacation impels me to frenzies of administrative zeal. The arrival of the Internet has made this kind of project much easier, of course. You can summon up everything--maps, ticket confirmations, train schedules--on your screen, then just print them off. That's how I ended up with 79 pages.

This particular year my efforts were well justified. My original notion had been a visit to England, to see my relatives and take the kids round some of the sights. This met with general approval in the household. Four years ago we "did" China, my wife's country of birth. Only fair that we now "do" England, which is mine.

Then mission creep set in. Could we take a side trip to Paris for a day or two? begged my wife. She so wanted to see Paris. I grudgingly admitted that we might manage it. This encouraged my 10-year-old son to step up. He is a keen player of a computer game called Age of Empires, and from that and some supplementary reading has accumulated a quite comprehensive knowledge of the ancient world. He can, for instance, identify the different types of column orders: Doric, Ionic, Corinthian ... Why not go to Rome as well? he asked. That, I replied, would be over-egging the pudding. Three countries in two weeks? We should see very little but airport lounges and hotel reception desks.

They worked on me, though, and at last, after a respectable rearguard action, I yielded, and produced a plan for three nights each in Rome and Paris from a base in London. The family were enthusiastic. I still thought this was far too much travel and that the vacation would end in tears, but there was no telling them, so after fair warning that I should be unsparing about saying "I told you so," I booked planes, a train (Eurostar through the Channel Tunnel), a car, and hotels, and we set off.

Everything went according to plan. We gazed at the Sistine Chapel and the Mona Lisa; we ascended the Eiffel Tower and Notre Dame; we poked around Westminster Abbey and the Colosseum; we rode the Metro and the London Eye (a huge ferris wheel set on the south bank of the Thames). Family bonds were strengthened, promises of return ...