Friday, March 1, 2013
It had been over a couple of years since I'd left the isle, as we don't do family holidays any more. Well, Matt takes off with his mates now - his latest plan is to do Route 66 over the summer. As for Bec, once school lets out, she and the wondrous Ben will be buying student railcards for unlimited travel throughout Europe for a couple of months or so.
Abby is off to New Zealand and Australia next month, with the school on a hockey tour, and as for Sam, well he and his dad are doing their usual thing, following the motorbike races in Ireland for a week. Sam doesn't cope too well on beach holidays, it's all a bit too overwhelming for him, but he truly does look forward to his annual trip away with his beloved daddy (I'd rather scoop my eyeballs out with a blunt toothpick, than to join them over there).
In the nineteen years Sam has been around, his dad and I did try once to have a romantic, long weekend away, alone together. Well, that's not quite true, we took my rather frail father-in-law along too (him having just lost his wife, we felt it was only but right). We flew to Verona, and caught an evening open air opera, performed in the breathtaking setting of the Roman Colosseum, where Christians were once thrown to the lions. It was magical, But when I phoned home that evening, Sam had gone virtually catatonic, and my best friend, Ally and her husband (who had moved in to take care of him) were seriously worried - as were we. We chartered the next flight home.
For the following six weeks, Sam was doubly incontinent and spoke only in gibberish.
We've never left him again, not without one of the two of us being there to look out for him.
So I don''t have much call to go away anywhere these days. But last summer I decided to kidnap the youngest, and ran away with her to Madeira for a week.
She didn't have much faith in my ability to get us there and back on my ownisome, honestly, talk about fret - that girl could nag for Britain - but I eventually persuaded her all would be fine. Hum. Well, anyway, here's the vid of some of what we got up to..
I'm not very technically able, as the video proves - and the reason for the laughter on the balcony bit (don't tell Abby I told) is because every time I talked to camera, Abby kept letting rip deafening farts - which is one of the main reasons I'd escaped out onto the balcony to begin with. Do watch out for the bum-crack guy on the boat, or maybe not, just shield your eyes. The model shoot of the beautiful girls in the square ended rather abruptly, after the photographer bodily lifted me up and out of the way (not my fault I don't speak Portuguese) - oh, and do rest assured - all ended well after the mountain rescue, we did eventually get our passports, money and bags back in the end..
Don't think I'll bother taking off anywhere, this year.