After the pangs of love and the joys of La Vie en Rose, Florence Cestac analyses another subject of general interest: the holidays. A small sample of the program: Vacation in a beautiful area which has kept its charm (a restaurant, a nightclub, a hi-fi shop, a restaurant, a night club) with a bedroom looking over garbage and various other bothers. Or the winter holidays between women with twelve kids. Exhausting. July in Ile de Ré. Very classy. Camping there in August. Less classy. The holiday where “you are a group of great friends, and the food is paid for out of a shared fund” (it ends badly). The holiday where “it is a crisis, let’s go to grandma and grandpa’s”, being woken up at dawn by the rooster, a very light lunch (stew, mocha) and a very loaded boot going back, etc. It makes you think of the traditional viewing of the family photos, with appropriate comments: “That is the day we had our credit card and car stolen! It was hammering it down!” In theory, it is appalling. But with Florence Cestac, who has the (precious) gift of bringing slapstick up to date, it’s hilarious. And sand in bikini takes us back to many “good” sacred memories.