Last weekend, we went down to the Isle of Wight for a long weekend. And you know what? This was the first time, we had been anywhere since our short trip up North, back in September. And it was actually the first time our puppy Frank spent a night away from home.
It has been well over two years since we had last been down to the island. And as some of you might remember, it didn’t quite go to plan for me. My weekend on the Isle of Wight was cut a little short, thanks to getting stuck in Paris for an extra day (something Mr T frequently keeps reminding me of).