AIDA AUSTIN: It’s important no one family member comes off as more stupid than any other

Sunday morning. My husband is in bed. I am in the kitchen, waiting for the coffee pot to boil. I turn up the radio; I’m trying not to listen to the small voice of my conscience.

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AIDA AUSTIN: Maybe, I think, just maybe tonight I’m in luck

I’M sitting at the kitchen table, staring at a blank Word Document when my husband returns from town.

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AIDA AUSTIN: She’s delighted she had six children, so we’ll fill the benches at her funeral

Home, 4.30pm. Having arrived home from our three-week holiday, my husband and I are sitting on the sofa, at something of a loose end.

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AIDA AUSTIN: What harm that I haven’t slept all night? I’ll find my sea-legs!

Meganisi Port, aboard the “Sophia”.
1.30am. Sleeping arrangements have just been urgently revised. 

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AIDA AUSTIN: My husband is trying to coax me off the jetty and back on the boat...

We are in Meganisi port in Greece. It is 1am. There are about 50 boats all politely moored in a row up against the jetty. All is pin-drop quiet.

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AIDA AUSTIN: No one would say ‘yes, please’ if invited to sleep in a coffin underground

7.30 pm.
We are in a taverna on the island of Meganisi. 

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AIDA AUSTIN: "There’ll be no more wine crossing my lips this holiday"

Lefkada, 5pm and I’m standing on a jetty. My husband, his sister and her husband are standing on the boat that is to be our home for a week. 

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AIDA AUSTIN: It’s happening already. My holiday expectations drop from 50 to 40

THURSDAY evening and I am just two sleeps away from the holiday of a lifetime: Greek islands! On a boat! Hurrah!!

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AIDA AUSTIN: "I like my bag the way it is, I consider, stuffed full of hopes and expectations"

SUNDAY, 11pm. Home, in bed.
“You keep staring into space,” my husband says, rustling the sports pages.
“It’s unnerving. Where’s your book?” 

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