The holiday is over baby…

I’m back from my much anticipated holiday.

I’m guessing that coming home and going back to work gets everyone down.

Probably shouldn’t have gone on the holiday in the first place.


We had an amazing time.

When the kids weren’t fighting that is. Which was a lot. But that probably comes from being stuck together all day and night.

I got to hold hands with my kids a lot.

I got to scream loudly on roller coasters.

And mutter rude words under my breath and roll my eyes when we drove the wrong way again.

I ate Welsh cakes in Wales, crepes in France, cheese and jam on toast in Denmark and porridge in a take away cup in the rain in Edinburgh.

We saw lots of old castles and marveled at beautiful green hills.

My youngest son randomly ran off the tube on our first day in London, nearly got hit by a car outside Paris and went up a different escalator to us and ended up on a different platform at a busy train station.

He also refused to walk on the right and walked into every second person on the street and a lady on a scooter.

We lost our eldest son for 10 minutes in a 5 storey toy store.

If I’d been wearing a heart monitor it probably would have shown that it was not the most relaxing holiday.

But we had fun.

It’s strange how you make memories that other people have already made but with your own flavour added to them.

I’m not the first person to see the Mona Lisa or the Eiffel Tower. It’s not a big deal. But it was for me.

I loved walking down cobble stoned streets and it didn’t take long before I would only stop to take a photo of something at least 400 years old.

The history was amazing.

The coffee was bad.

You can’t have good coffee and old buildings apparently.

Probably something to do with the way they store their beans in their drafty castles.

In Paris we ran into the same lady two days in a row near the Louvre which isn’t that strange but we also saw a family at Disneyland that had shared a trampoline with us the day before.

It’s a small world after all.

In Edinburgh the first person I spoke to was Australian. At a cafe in Bath I chatted to a lady that used to live 10 minutes away from us.

Real life is back with full force now.

4 loads of washing done and sorted. Not yet put away but that’s not unusual in our house.

I’ve had an amazing 3 weeks, taken lots of photos and bought more than the usual amount of tacky souvenirs.

If you didn’t get a postcard it was because I didn’t send you one.

But I’m free for coffee again now if you wanna catch up.



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