The beds must have been comfier than they first appeared, because we all slept in til 8. Mog's wheelchair covers were still drippingly wet, giving us the perfect excuse to stay onsite - her buggy can't be clamped into the bus.
Grand plans were made for energetic walks into and around town. And abandoned. We sat around, visited with friends, and went for a swim.
Now it's nighttime and the girls are sleeping. Grownups are congregated in the flat opposite; the doors are propped open and I'm flitting between the two. Mulled cider in one apartment and the gentle snuffling breaths of sleeping children in the other. It's a winning combination.