A letter arrives from aunt Etna. “Your uncle Vesuvius and I are going to the Costa Del Sol for the summer. Why don’t you join us? It’s guaranteed sunshine, you can erupt all day, and there’s karaoke every Tuesday.”

So I’ve packed a suitcase, left Alan in charge, and I’m off. If you want to know more about my fabulous Mineral Water, head for http://volvic.co.uk. If you want to know what that strange howling and wailing in the night is, it’s only Alan. He does miss me when I’m on holiday, the soppy so-and-so.

The Ice Age is well and truly over, and summer is nearly here. Lush foliage covers my foothills, hydrated by my fabulous Mineral Water.

My handsome Volcanic rocks are looking even more handsome, though I say so myself.

And in time honoured fashion, a young carnivore’s thoughts have turned to love. “I need a mate, George,” said amorous Alan, “and not just the kind you watch the football with.”

So I gave him a shot of Volcanicity from my volcano filtered springs, and sent him off on a quest for love. The jungle will be alive with dinosaur cries tonight, probably when Alan realises he’s eaten his date. 

High excitement in the jungle last night. Aliens landed, built pyramids, and headed back to their spaceship.

“Oi! Little green…er…things!” I shouted. “What you up to?”

Apparently, it’s part of a brilliant alien game called “Messing with The Humans’ Heads”.

They’ve already stuck a stone circle in a place that one day will be called England. The humans think it tells the time.

I know, a circle - made of stones!

Hahahahahahahahaha.

Yessssssssssss.

The sun has come out. Finally, it has the courage to face me.

Coincidentally, the Ice Age is over and Alan has thawed. Alan didn’t know what happened to him.

I told him he had been laughing so hard at one of my great jokes

that he knocked himself out.

“But I’m standing in a puddle,” he said.

“Well, Alan. It was a very – very – funny joke.”

The humans have learnt to ski, and are using my handsome volcanic slopes as a piste. It tickles, in a nice way.

They say that I make a far better piste than the hills. Of course I do. The hills are rubbish pistes.

The baby humans have put frozen Alan on his back and are using him as a sledge.

This is very disrespectful. And very funny.

I should say something. But I won’t.