Snotty Noses Happy Parents Raising Healthy Kids by Dr Orlena Kerek, Paediatrician

I have to confess, I'm not really a camping type. The idea of waking up in a tent in the beautiful countryside and frying an egg on a camp fire feels with me with joy. So much so that we've tried a couple of trips (which serve to remind me of the reality of camping with young children.)

Last year, we went for a eurocamp tent. I thought it'd be easy and romantic (see above deluded vision.) It rained, I had morning sickness, it was really noisy and the kids hardly slept.

This year I decided to up- grade to a bungalow. So, not proper camping (comes with kitchen, shower and toilet) but we stayed on a camp site so I guess it counts.

We went to Vilanova, just south of Barcelona. A 2 hour drive away, perfect. The camp site was great, enough parks to keep the children entertained and an indoor pool as swimming outside in May is rather brave. Not so sure about the kids disco. Last year was great, we all bopped along at the 'mini mini disco'. This time, a few dutch teenage reps stood around, attempting to liven up a bunch of kids who were rather baffled by the likes of 'the birdy song' (without words), 'agadoo' and the 'hokey cokey'. Even the parents were non-plussed. My kids decided to leave. Apparently even bed was more appealing.

We went to Sitges for a day. A beautiful, beach side town (even managing to sport a couple of surfers which is rare around here.) It has a couple of beaches, a lovely old town with a church over looking the sea and lots of restaurants. Well worth checking out.

The next day the weather wasn't so great so we thought we'd check out Vilanova. By chance I found a leaflet to a steam train museum. Couldn't have been more perfect for 2 Thomas/Chuggington crazed small boys. The museum was great, you could clamber over a couple of the trains and admire the others. Galen even managed to get covered in tar (not so great but my fault as I encouraged him to look under the train, I thought it was part of the museum. And I didn't really like those jeans anyway.)

Then we walked to the seafront for the ubiquitous ice cream. Another lovely town with a large beach (rather windy on that day).

OK, I'm still not a camping type, but the bungalow was definitely an improvement. Perhaps I'm a 'bungalow' type?

Oh, and I forgot to mention that we even got the boys doing the washing up. Miracles will never cease. Although it hasn't happened since.