For ten days.
TEN WHOLE DAYS AND TEN WHOLE SLEEPLESS NIGHTS.
The longest we've camped before has been two nights, and that was with one child, and we could basically see our house from the campsite.
Now we are going to drive 10 hours with a car-sick three-year-old and live in a tent for the best part of two weeks in an overcrowded campsite with children who wake up throughout the night and start the day at 5.30am.
I don't think we are going to a) make any friends or b) feel at all relaxed by the time we come home.
When growing up we camped in France every summer. I have fond childhood memories but I don't know if that's because my brain has cancelled out the horror of the experience as some kind of survival method.
Me and my sister used to spend the first day wandering around the campsite looking for GB stickers on cars and willing them to have a child for us to play with.
And I do remember having to hold tent poles for hours on end whilst my parent got more and more frustrated as they attempted to put the bloody thing up.
In fact I did wet myself one year as I stood for the best part of an hour holding a bit of tent up.
I was four, and I'm not intending to piss myself on this holiday unless absolutely necessary, but still...
I'm going to book an Air B and B.