Somewhere in the Pyrenees, the river’s cold enough to rewire your nervous system. The tent reeks of baguette, sunscreen, and wet swimming towels. My daughter is dangling a croissant into the water “to feed the fish.” Our car is a travelling cheese cave. My son is wearing swimming trunks, a paper bag hat, and the sort of expression you get from three straight weeks without formal hygiene.

This is the magic - and the occasional madness - of three weeks road-tripping France with kids.

And while I’d love to tell you we spent the whole trip picnicking under ancient oaks and harmonising to French folk songs, the truth is … we did a bit of that, yes. But we also survived foraged plum poisoning, had campsite showers that violated the Geneva Convention, and at least one horrific haunted house experience that will be discussed with therapists for years to come.

Here’s what I learnt, and why I hope you’ll give it a go yourself. Sure, France was the stage, but the script works for any family road trip.