A few days away in the sunshine. A flying visit to see family in Spain, a spot biggest bairn doesn’t remember as we shamefully realise it’s been 15 years since we last went.
I’ve been wondering why, but life simply just got in the way.
Babies, work, businesses, chronic illness, dogs, and global pandemics.
Yet here we are, finally boarding a plane at 6am, heading for a little sunshine and a lot of family love.
Reasons to be exasperated
We hadn’t even made it past the airport before the bairn is exasperated. For a few reasons.
The first might have something to do with her not falling in until 1.30am when she knew we had to leave at 3am.
The second might be my need to be at the airport three hours before taking off so I can sit directly opposite the gate and be anxious about missing my flight from there.
Either way, once we’re through security, we stroll through duty free and subsequent shops with the fiscal ease and abandon of people who are considerably wealthier than us.
Spending? Crack right on…
A new mascara? Why not? Some perfume, spray it about, sniff it, approve and chuck it in the basket. Sunglasses? A necessity rather than accessory, no? £25+ for two sandwiches and a coffee? Crack right on.
Once I hit the airport terminal, just watch me turn into a person that doesn’t panic over squeezing the credit card limit.
We are officially on our way, and I want to smell that evening holiday smell.
You know the one. The one when you’re abroad, out walking to dinner and it smells like warm tarmac, Ambre Solaire with a subtle undertone of Scottish sunburnt flesh and nearby grilled sea food.
The flowers are brightly coloured violet climbing up against white-wash walls and all the crickets are chirping. We are more than ready for it.
It was a pleasant enough flight, and we collected our hire car.
Thelma and Louise watching out for signs of Brad Pitt while trying to remember what side of the car the gear stick was and what side of the road we should have been on.
After we worked out how to get out the airport car park, that is.
Surprise! We’re here!
Arriving at my aunt’s restaurant as a surprise, one both myself and my cousin had managed to keep secret.
This formidable woman had no idea, and nothing usually gets past her.
Feeling exceptionally welcomed with a hint of smug, we settled down to a few glorious days of sunshine with my tiny nieces, now beautiful, grown women.
We got unpacked and remerged wearing those clothes we all have.
You know, the ones only to be worn abroad where nobody knows you.
Bright colours and shorter trousers showing off blue hues of Scottish skin.
We were ready to wear flip flops to restaurants and whimsically refuse to have panic attacks over the price of cocktails.
Calm, sun, and time to think
For those of you following this column weekly, you might remember my pondering alternative career options.
A few days of still and calm while away have allowed me time to think and I finally have a few options that might suit.
While I may look like I’m doing nothing, in my head I am actually quite busy.
I no longer want to be, I want to be a wee elderly Mediterranean wifie who sits outside a café complaining to her friends and who considers a game of boules in the village square a form of exercise.
For income, I’ll run summer camp for adults. With long lies. Afternoon Naps. Take away dinners so nobody has to decide ‘what’s for tea’ or do dishes.
When anyone complains about parenting, I’ll just listen, nod and agree rather than dispensing unwarranted advice.
‘Bookcations’ too. Why not?
We can have regular ‘Bookcations’ where we go to a cabin with our TBR pile and spend all day reading.
Then, at dinner time, we go out and talk about the books we’ve read. That’s not too much to ask is it?
I’m calmer now I have a plan for when the café sells, even if it meant my glorious wee break was spent thinking alongside relaxing.
Holidays, for me, are for wondering about a completely unachievable, fantasy life in a country equally as expensive as my own but with better weather. And I love it.
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