FRIDAY. Thrash down the M5 en route for the family summer holiday. Ten days' away from the 8.30am to 7pm routine of estimates, year-end figures and restructuring for Durham University's estates and buildings department.
SUNDAY. We are staying in student accommodation at Exeter University. It is excellent, not least because each member of the family has their own en-suite bathroom. As I take a leisurely shower after a swim in the heated outdoor pool (groans of envy) I note that the room is designed on the "wet floor" principle, which is very simple and effective unless you are the kind of person who drifts back into the bathroom in stocking feet to clean his teeth. One thing could ruin the holiday: the toilet paper dispenser is of the type which obliges you to struggle to obtain about one sheet every minute - did the committee do that intentionally?
MONDAY. Early morning shower is less leisurely as there is no hot water; report matter to reception and by 9am the buildings and estates engineer has been to fix the boiler and to give me a quick seminar on the design and management of student accommodation. Hire cycles to follow the Exeter ship canal to the estuary to observe both birdlife and the Great Western railway. See nothing more exotic than a heron and red Class 47. After a hot but fairly effortless ride enjoy pint of beer at the Turf Hotel on the estuary, which claims to be accessible only by foot, cycle or boat. True, unless you count a 50-metre walk from the car park across the canal lock.
TUESDAY. Meet up with friends from Durham at their hotel in Torquay. Discover that as children we were all regularly taken to Torquay by train for a week, stayed in hotels like Fawlty Towers, and were all obliged to walk to Cockington Village, go on the ferry across to Brixham, and take a trip on the cliff railway at Babbacombe. Note how easily we were pleased and our own children's aversion to any such planning or regimentation.
WEDNESDAY. Glorious weather sees us heading for bustling but unspoilt Beer and Branscombe. Take a leisurely float in my son's Super Turbo Ring, from which I admire the cliff scenery. Everyone associates the South Devon coast with red sandstone, but at Beer the cliffs are creamy white chalk with exposed seams of flints. To the east the cliffs revert to sandstone before giving way to chalk and limestone. Son shouts my time's up on his ring.
THURSDAY. Another trip to Beer and Branscombe, another wallow in the Super Turbo. Next to us on the beach is a large group of people of various generations: social scientists should note that the Super Turbo offers an excellent observation post. Note, the extended family is still alive and well, and on holiday in Devon. There is even a matriarch sitting in the centre, from which she announces with great authority which member of the younger generation has the next turn in the dinghy and dispatches older males at regular intervals to acquire trays of tea.
FRIDAY. This is a two-centre, two-university, holiday, and we move on to Bath to meet up with another family. The rendezvous is Clark's Factory Village: like most people in Durham, I have been to the "shop" behind the factory in Peterlee and bought a Marks and Spencer jacket at half-price. Here a range of such shops has been transformed into a tourist attraction.
SATURDAY. Walk down the long hill from Bath University, which is always an enjoyable experience, as the city unfolds in front of you. This is the fourth year in a row we have spent part of our holiday in Bath, and we never tire of it: for sheer quality of environment, Bath takes a lot of beating, as does coffee and scones in the Pump Room. My son scours the city to see members of Bath rugby team.
SUNDAY. Borrow a mountain bike for a trip along the Kennet and Avon Canal. Pass several people brambling. This activity has always intrigued me: why do people suffer pulled muscles and lacerated hands to pick something which can be bought free of added animal matter in the comfort of Sainsbury's?
MONDAY. Early morning swim in university pool (damn them!); on the way back call in at the estates office and exchange news with colleagues over a cup of coffee; I am very interested in the new library extension and green with envy about the new Olympic-size pool and other sports facilities. Anxious not to outstay my welcome, as there is nothing more annoying than someone lounging around in flip-flops and shorts when you have lots of work to do. To Laycock - Meryton in Pride and Prejudice, on which my 13-year-old daughter must be a leading authority.
TUESDAY. And so back up the M5, M42 . . . Time to reflect again. In these days have delved into environmental studies, sociology, geology and social anthropology, not to mention comparative building studies. When I think about it, it was not so much a holiday as research. I could even pop estates and building's name down for the next research assessment exercise.
Richard Metcalfe Director of estates and buildings at the University of Durham.