Last Friday, Justin Bieber and I set off for twenty four childfree hours at the stunning Carden Park hotel nestled in the midst of the Cheshire countryside. The sky may not have been blue and the sun may not have been shining but with 'What do you mean?' on repeat and my handbag containing lipstick and Porter magazine as opposed to Toy Story figures and a Thomas the Tank Engine book, it was one of the most pleasant drives I've experienced in a long time. No answering random questions about how old you have to be to swim with crocodiles (wouldn't that be a wonderful new 'show' at Chester Zoo), no trying to mediate heated discussions about who's the biggest silly-head, and no cajoling a Houdini-like three year old to stay in his car seat. Bliss. It was bliss. Me, Justin's dulcet tones on the CD player and a lazy drive through the Welsh countryside and across the border to Cheshire's finest country estate. It's a journey I wouldn't mind doing more often.