Come to our house in France, say generous friends, come to Italy, come fishing. ‘How wonderful, what shall we bring?’ Nothing, they reply. They are lying, obviously. Bring cash, a thoughtful present for the house — pillowcases, new books — and your biggest smile. You don’t want the hosts rolling their eyes and punching the air when you drive away down that olive grove.
The thing is, it’s not a hotel. There are people who can be a little peremptory with their friends’ staff. There is no point during the day or night when the dishwasher won’t need emptying and the cook will be delighted if you do that — extra points for cleaning the filter — or lay the table, wash the lettuce or do the bread run before breakfast.
Try to dissuade the children from water bombs and shouty swimming during that post-lunch snoozy hush around the pool. We’ll enjoy little Angelica’s diving later. Perhaps a nice book in the shade for an hour? (No, mine neither.)
Offer to take the household out to dinner. Everything you eat and drink has been thought through, written on lists, bought, carted home, cooked and served for your delight. They’ve earned an evening off.
If there’s more than one of you, hire a car so you can be independent, which your hosts will like. Then at least you’re not always standing around on the terrace with your hat on, bothering someone to drive you to the market/chemist/village.
We all have our little food habits and breakfast can be fraught with drama. No holiday breakfast would be complete without someone opening the fridge door and shrieking. If a child has drunk your almond milk or fed your chia seeds to the birds, keep calm and have a lovely warm white roll with apricot jam like everyone else.
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