The visitation

It took us hours to explore the ruins at Empuries. Late in the afternoon, somewhat footsore, we unlocked the bikes, but instead of heading back to the campsite we decided to pedal a further half kilometre along the coastal bike track to the ancient village of St. Marti de Empuries. We figured we might find somewhere to have a cortado. We had cycled less than a couple of hundred metres when Gill's phone bleeped. It was our youngest, Laura, phoning to tell us that she could do with a short break from Uni as things were getting​ on top of her. She had forgotten we were not at home, but minor details like the fact we were in Catalonia not Derbyshire was not going to deter her. She has never been any different, once Laura gets an idea in her head she will make it happen. 

By the time we had finished our coffees in the café in St. Marti, Laura had found cheap flights from Luton to Girona. Before we reached the outskirts of L' Escala she had phoned back to tell us they were booked and she was arriving in Girona at 20:30 tomorrow. Within half an hour of us getting back to the campsite, reception had organised four days of car hire on our behalf. That seemed the best option to fetch Laura from the airport. Though Girona airport is less than 50km from us, public transport links are difficult. Moreover, a 21 year old was not going to be content with soulful coastal walks and simply lounging on the beach was not an option, as the forecast predicted a cool, showery spell. We started planning trips out, to the Dali museum at Figueres or Girona. 

Suddenly our placid, predictable existence had been turned upside down. In fact, Laura's impending visit prompted a mild panic, not because we did not want to see her, but the history of Laura and the Moho is not a happy one. The earliest posts in our blog tell the story of how we ended up with a motorhome. It was the result of an enforced 'voluntary' redundancy and a medical panic regarding my sky-high blood pressure which resulted in being refused travel insurance for a long planned six week road trip from Last Vegas to Vancouver. The purchase of Maisy was a spontaneous reaction to these misfortunes which turned out from our point of view to be inspired - a liberating, life enhancing decision.

However, at the time we failed entirely to see this from Laura's point of view. Then aged 17, we had swapped her eagerly anticipated road trip across the epic landscapes of the American West for a three week visit to Bavaria with grey-haired parents in a venerable motorhome which, in truth, they had no idea how to operate. The compensating visit to Disneyland Paris, in hindsight, looks like pretty paltry compensation. The result was that Laura hated every minute of the trip, was very reluctant to venture out of the overhead cab bed, yet bewailed being 'trapped in a coffin'. By the end of the holiday her depressive episodes had blossomed into fully blown panic attacks - so horrible was the experience that ever since she has refused to even enter the van, refers to it as ' that caravan' and is utterly disparaging about our travels, asserting that we prefer the motorhome to our children. Quite how things might pan out when she arrived tomorrow, we had no idea. 

What this prompted, in a kind of 'Ab Fab' role reversal that involved a flurry of cleaning, tidying and moho re-organisation - so parents, who have not become slobbish exactly, but have relaxed into an informal 'couple-ish' existence, could now present an apparently respectable lifestyle to their student daughter. All of this is faintly amusing I think. 

In fact, we have had an enjoyable few days. Laura's arrival has forced us to do stuff which ordinarily we would have rejected because of the cost - such as renting a car to explore places that are tricky to reach in the motorhome. The entry to the Dali museum in Figureas - €42 for the three of us - was expensive, but it was really fascinating and Laura deemed it pretty cool . It would be good to be able to post lots of photos of what we got up to, however, Laura controls her public image with a skill and determination more normally associated with Hollywood minor royalty. Though active on social media, parental access is definitely not on the agenda and requests in person for photographs​ are routinely, but politely refused. Somewhat in the style of a frustrated paparazzi, here is a distance shot, somewhat blurred, and a couple of arty, mysterious portrayals, evoking the spirit of  later images of Greta Garbo during her reclusive phase.

Altogether though it has been a positive few days. I think we understand better where Laura is coming from, and maybe she better appreciates our situation. Nevertheless, the nature of being a parent is to be anxious. It really is not a good idea for the girl who had life saving cardiac surgery at seven days old and lives with a congenital heart defect to have become a smoker...(worry worry).