Hilarie Stelfox plans a summer holiday in an earthquake zone

Jun 6 2009 by Hilarie Stelfox, Huddersfield Daily Examiner

I WAS doing what I usually do in supermarket queues – checking out the contents of other people’s trolleys.

To someone such as myself, with a severe case of nosiness, it’s a richly rewarding hobby. I’m fascinated by the people who fill their trolleys with own-brand cheap-as-chips everything and then splash out £20 on scratch cards; or the women who have scoured the shelves for diet products and then sneak in a couple of chocolate bars. Of course my own trolley is always virtuously filled with fresh fruit and veg of the organic persuasion.

The average check-out queue is a gold mine for the amateur psychologist and on this particular occasion I thought I’d hit the mother lode.

The man behind us had weighed his trolley down with nothing but bags of sugar. It was the hard stuff, as well. Pure, white and in such a large quantity that I couldn’t help myself: “Are you baking a cake, or two?’’ I asked, trying really hard not to sound even the teensiest bit sarcastic, as the gentleman was of rotund proportions.

But he was delighted by my interest, which is more than can be said for Secondborn, who was, I suspect, performing an inward cringe of the ‘mother, why are you so nosy’ variety.

“I’m making tiramisu,’’ he confided, and went on to explain that he was Italian and fond of his food.

I said that we liked Italian food and in order to partake of it we had booked yet another holiday in Italy this summer.

The conversation naturally led to where we were going. “Abruzzo,’’ I volunteered.

“Ah,’’ said our new friend, “They’ve just had an earthquake there,’’ and then, seeing my face fall, he quickly added: “but it’s very beautiful, with wild bears.’’ We returned home to consume our fruit and vegetables, bitterly regretting not having filled our trolley with chocolate biscuits, and I settled down with a magazine, turning to a random page.

“I was in an earthquake’’ shouted the headline.

And where was the earthquake? Yes, of course, in Abruzzo.

Strangely, there was no mention of such things in the holiday brochure.

Still we have now ticked one of the holiday must-have boxes for Firstborn, who enjoys a frisson of danger.

Which brings me round to the difficulties of booking a family holiday that suits the diverse interests, likes and dislikes of four individuals.

Ideally, what we look for is somewhere with a warm sea (without sharks or jellyfish) for me; a mosquito-free zone for The Man-in-Charge; a backdrop of mountains with rushing rivers and gorges (for The Boy to risk his life canyoning and white water rafting); a resort conveniently situated 30 minutes from an airport for Secondborn (who doesn’t travel well) and a country within a two-hour flying distance of the UK. Oh, and we also require good food of the non-Germanic sort and locals who don’t behave resentfully towards visitors (thereby ruling out Spain).

We have solved some but not all of these problems in the past by visiting, in no particular order, Austria (terrible food and no beach); Northern Italy (ticked all of the boxes but pricey); Sicily (as hot as hell) and Andorra (great, but involved a tortuous five-hour journey from the airport).

As children become teenagers holidays acquire an even greater importance for parents about to face an empty nest while, simultaneously, losing their appeal for the offspring.

I have a friend who has just negotiated a 10-day holiday with her teenagers. She wanted two weeks, the kids said they’d endure a week. They compromised.

Which is why we strive every year to find something to please the Offspring first and ourselves last. There will be plenty of time later for reading novels under a parasol. For now we need mountains to climb, adventurous pursuits, theme parks to visit and – in the words of Firstborn – ‘no museums, art galleries or churches.’

Throw in the odd tremor and a few wild bears and we are hoping that Abruzzo will fit the bill.