Recipes, Tales and Adventures

She stood at the edge of the North Sea, arms wide open, and screamed at the top of her voice. When I asked her later what she was doing, she told me she was controlling the waves. Four days in a campervan with my seven-year-old granddaughter. Best. Holiday. Ever.

The Murphy household is a TV-free zone. Beatrix was a Border Collie who wrote her own ending. And somewhere between a campervan in the Lake District and a 17-minute countdown, everything changed.

There is a version of my life that I've carried around in my head for a long time. Super fit, cycling Scotland, parked up somewhere beautiful in my campervan with a cup of Tetley and a homemade flapjack. But dreams have a habit of arriving slightly different to how you ordered them.