Recently, my son and I spent a little more than a week abroad, where I launched my new book at an event in a 300-year-old castle built atop even older foundations. Although we severely missed our better half, we came to feel at home.

We knew all the cats that wandered the square and we could recognize our town easily from a distance thanks to the onion-ish dome on the church.

Because I rarely stay in hotels for long stretches -- not more than a night or two usually -- I never get all that attached to them. Sure, there are some that I like better than others, but this time it was different.

We saw the same few hotel employees -- a local dad and his adult son and daughter -- for more than a week. My little one was doted on and had a wonderful time. Over the course of our stay we even fell into something of a routine.

The result is that we really felt at home, not only in the hotel (did I mention the hotel is also in the castle?), but in the town, except that our family was only making a 50 percent showing.

And, apparently, we got noticed, too.

A number of people told me that it was extremely rare there to see a dad and son hanging out so much -- playing in the play area (what a relief it was to see that when we got to town!), checking out the fountain in the garden, calling to the cats, tossing pebbles down the well and waiting to hear the plop, smashing open newly fallen chestnuts with our feet, scanning the panoramic view, trying to name the towns dotting the hilltops.

Traveling alone with a little one for a week isn't always easy. We were together -- literally -- 24 hours a day. With another adult, you can split up now and again and have some alone time if you need it, but this time that wasn't in the cards.

But it was a great bonding experience for us and I know that even if my son doesn't remember all the details when he's older, his visit is inside him now, forming part of who he is and who he will become.

Next time, however, we need a room for four.