Dukan Diet on Holiday

 Oh dear, oh dear.  How to combat the temptation to treat holidays as a separate moral universe in which all dietary rules no longer apply.  Especially when you are going to France and will be endlessly assailed  by sights such as these (pictured).  It's not Greggs, is it?  This is top notch patisserie.  Patisserie to die and go to heaven for.  These are the things angels eat, when they aren't playing their harps and debating how many theologians you can fit on the head of a pin.

But hang on a moment--France is the home of the Dukan diet.  Surely I have not travelled this far in the company of Dr Dukan, only to be abandoned to the ravages of irresistible baked goods?  Surely he has some wisdom to share.  I looked up 'croissants' in the index.  Nothing.  He goes straight from 'crisps' (bad: 'full of fat and calories... dangerous if you want to prevent cardiovascular illness and cancer') to 'cruise diet'.  This means 'alternating protein', by the way, rather than what to eat on board ship, or when out on the pull.

So the Dukaneuse on holiday will have to fall back on those good habits instilled by months of following Dr Dukan's advice.  Eat sensibly, exercise, remember your oat bran, forget your escalators, and above all, eat 200 hundred croissants every week while on holiday in France!  I'm sorry, that was a typo.  It should have read, have one day of pure proteins a week.  With a bit of luck you won't come back two dress sizes larger.

I'm supposed to be packing.  I find holidays stressful, to be honest.  Worry, worry, worry.  Passports.  Bow doors of ferry.  Will house-sitter set fire to new washing machine?  Will new washing machine set fire to house-sitter?  The answer is to drink wine and lose yourself in a good book.  Here's a suggestion: Lazarus is Dead, by Richard Beard.  A compelling exploration of the nature of faith and doubt, of how we know the unknowable.  Plus it's funny and the end made me cry.  Enjoy.  With a glass of wine and the patisserie of your choice.