What doesn’t kill you gives you a lot of unhealthy coping mechanisms and a really dark sense of humour.
I remind myself of this as we set off on stage one of our wee family holiday. Myself, plus two and the four legged hairy ones in my car. Himself plus one in his. An hour and a half to go to destination number one.
We’re exceptionally excited and exceptionally grateful to be getting away.
My travelling companions are hungry before we’ve left Dundee.
Our initial plans to meet my brother and his crew for lunch long abandoned due to our tardiness, I appeal to their adventurous nature and extend promises of newly discovered food outlets in fresh destinations.
The mister naturally phones right at that moment to announce they’ve pulled in for fuel and an M&S ‘no ordinary’ sandwich. The mere mention of the word sandwich starts an uprising within our car.
The notion of some missed Percy Pigs was just a step too far, so as we pull into the golden arches just outside Perth I console myself with a reminder this is a holiday. Good times are literally moments away.
Some chicken nuggets won’t kill them. However if they don’t stop banging on about being hungry, I might. Or at least drop them off at a truck stop somewhere at the side of a duel carriageway.
Lunch consumed, my lip gloss now McD’s chip grease, the sun is shining and we’re back on our way (again). As my hitchhikers are wearing their earphones I take an opportunity to blare some ‘Phil’.
If they don’t like it they can walk. It’s a reminder of a misspent youth. I might not be able to recount on piece of information from my University Degree but I am WORD PERFECT concerning In the Air Tonight. Someone recently told me Cadbury World down south houses the drum playing Gorilla.
I’m planning our next family road trip even as I drive. Can anyone do me a CAD of how many dairy milks fit into a Mummy Bus please?
Our destination finally reached and I’m delighted to note there is no WiFi or phone signal. Cousins gleefully reunited, negotiations over who sleeps where begin. I remain slightly concerned regards some ‘suspended’ top bunks but I’m assured everyone will be ‘fine’. I’m not sleeping in OR under it so okay. Please pass me a holiday fruity cider and pass me the ‘out of office’ sign.
The location is glorious and the biblical rainfall hints at easing off. The dogs are thrilled at new smells and the mister is delighted to have to unpack the contents of our entire house he only placed in the car a few short hours earlier.
The chalets have no catering facilities so tragically we have to send out for fish and chips, naturally I’m bereft at not cooking but equally smug as I produce some ketchup. It’s almost as if I KNEW the chalets didn’t have cooking facilities…
I excuse myself from any guilt associated with having chips twice in one day, this is our holiday after all, and merrily queue under a massive golf umbrella alongside the entire population of Crieff who have also decided to have Tuesday chippy tea.
Comrie, St Fillans, Crieff and the surrounding area easily capture our attention for the next few days. We take long leisurely walk with all three dogs. We swim in lochs. Play mini golf, badly.
The kids have a go on some Segways, only one minor injury that just requires a kind word and sympathy rather than plasters deems it a success.
Family
Endless card games are played. And played again when participants didn’t like the previous results. There was no hurry for anything and it was just lovely.
Long awaited reunion with family is good for the soul and I don’t even so much as flinch when I’m called to be told the café has flooded and a delivery of >200 pastries has arrived.
I’ve another game of Uno to be getting on with and seeing as this is the holiday where my lovely sister in law will remain a legend for having to pick up 26 cards in one round, I believe I may have turned round my loosing streak!
