It is a sunny start to the day in Hampshire. We travelled back from Glasgow by plane on Saturday. As we were waiting to board, the other plane headed for London was cancelled. The travellers looked gutted. So pleased we were on the other flight. Once you’re homebound, you just want to get there.

It was wonderful to be reunited with Domino and to see the garden at the Old Rectory, revving up for summer. The borders are reaching their crescendo and the rose buds are ready to open. The lavenders have stems and flowers about to open and release their strong scent.

We had a day and night with Peter and Ghislaine in Ayrshire on Friday. They have a magnificent baronial castle on the River Doon. Ghislaine’s forbears built a weir, so the river slows down by the house. This way, you can swim and kayak – in a natural infinity pool.

Peter and Ghislaine are generous in allowing the house to be used, by others, for weddings or special occasions. Just after we left there were wedding drinks for a local couple. The groom was an Aussie, so the bagpipes played Waltzing Matilda.

When Hugo finished Common Entrance aged 13, the test for senior school for boys, he took a group of friends up to inhabit the house and grounds. Ghislaine bought the food and I took over the kitchen, cooking the meals. Not many women I know would hand over the reins lock, stock and barrel to their house. The boys had a Swallows and Amazons time – a contrast to life lived in Chelsea, London – where they had been at school for the previous five years at Sussex House, Cadogan Square, behind Peter Jones. An urban existence.

I am used to their house now, but on my first visit years ago I was overcome by the sheer size and grace of the architecture. The turrets were romantic and the rooms vast and stately. Again I felt like I was in a Jane Austen novel, but set in Scotland. Which Jane never did!

On one occasion we were invited to a hunt at another local, stately home; the one with horses, hounds and a fox substitute. The hunts-people were in scarlet jackets and looked splendid and animated. Staff served nibbles and sherry in silver cups to the assembled crowd and to the mounted hunters.

On another occasion we visited the renovated Dumfries House, a Palladian country house nearby. A consortium headed by Prince Charles purchased the house and the contents in the late 2000s, which included important Chippendale furniture. It is now open to the public. I once sat next to a Marquis (a top title in the hierarchy) at Peter and Ghislaine’s who told me that, as a young man, he used to go to visit the house regularly for dinners and parties. Dinners – black tie of course! The house was then owned by his racing driver friend, Johnny Dumfries. The main family house is Mount Stewart House on the Isle of Bute, which we have also seen. It is vast, in the ilk of the Natural History Museum. Dumfries House was the holiday home, as it was so much smaller!!! The Boswell Book fair, concentrating on biographies is held there. Peter and Ghislaine are very involved. Peter interviews some of the writers.

Today I am off to visit Nicky for a belated birthday treat.