In my PB (pre-baby) days, my idea of hell was a two week stay at an all inclusive (with nightly entertainment thrown in for free) at Costa del Kids. Two off-spring later and I find myself searching the net with burgeoning excitement at the offers of a free kids club, indoor and outdoor pools, Sky TV and best of all, kids eat for free!
As every member of the hood knows, transporting little people further afield than the local out of town Tesco requires not only a second mortgage but relentless unwavering stamina, and the negotiation skills of Michael Mansfield QC.
In fact, truth be told, with three summer long-haul holidays now firmly under my belt (impressive hey!) I feel qualified to be able to offer up some sage advice to new members of the hood.
Firstly, those idyllic images spawning the pages of the monthly glossies of the picture perfect family frolicking on sandy white beaches on a remote island in the Indian Ocean are not real. No family actually looks that good and, a ‘real’ family certainly doesn’t display that kind of psychotic playful excitement whilst tossing a frizbee.
Secondly, the Indian Ocean is all very nice with clear crystal blue waters and mile upon mile of untouched coral reefs but, consider for a second, the quantity of Boots finest sun cream needed to ensure your off-spring are not slowly cooked alive in the midday heat along with the gallons of water needed to keep them fully hydrated whilst they entertain themselves with the florescent pink buckets and spades and plastic golf sticks.
Thirdly, any parent who survives a long-haul flight to the other side of the world aboard Bloody Awkward deserves the upmost respect. Once you have negotiated the delights of Gatwick airport dragging the oversized luggage and off-spring in tow, you will find yourself spending the entire holiday budget in departures just for a fleeting moment of peace. Then, having acquired yet another five pieces of hand luggage, you’ll make the mile long journey to Gate four thousand and sixty, boarding the flight to a sea of fearful faces who are secretly praying that you will not take up resident near them.
Once firmly imprisoned in row 99, you will be swiftly required to provide continuous entertainment for the best part of nine hours – this may seem like an easy feat, after all most of us will have just purchased a family sized box of crayons and every magazine and sticker book available, but be warned, each activity has a life span of fifteen minutes tops! The remaining seven hours forty five minutes will be spent repeatedly wandering up and down the aisles negotiating the drinks trolleys and apologising profusely to the air hostess for the constant demands for more apple juice as well as pleading with fellow passengers for their patience and understanding as your off-spring take up residence in the only two toilets at the back of the plane.
However, on the plus side your sanity will start to wane around the five hour mark and hysteria will soon kick-in (this is a good thing!) as you realise that you’re only half way there and your repeated pleas for them to stop kicking the back of the chair of the poor unfortunate sod seated in the row in front have fallen yet again on deaf ears.
But fear not, just as soon as you are well and truly ready to throw in the towel your new found hero (Mr Pilot) will say those magically few words ‘please fasten your seat belts as we will soon be landing’ you will look across at your Darling Duo and watch in disbelief as their eyes grow heavy, their bodies limp as they gently descend into a deep and much needed sleep and wonder how the hell you’re going to get them off the flight!
So this year, we’re off to Egypt on an all inclusive. A swift forty-five minute drive to Bristol airport followed by a mere four hour flight. We’re staying at a 5* luxury ‘family friendly’ resort which roughly translates to mean we don’t mind if you destroy the bedroom, leave chocolate hand prints scattered across the 42 inch flat screen and along the freshly painted magnolia walls. We also cordially invite you to use a month’s supply of freshly laundered white towels after a day at the pool and promise to ensure a steady supply of straws at all times. Our staff will be on hand 24 hours a day and are fully trained and versed in publically rejoicing at the high pitched shrieks of a three year old Princess Belle and an overly energetic Ben 10 as they both spring into action to fight against the imaginary forces of evil.
But best of all, I know that amongst the hoards of little people who will be descending upon thirty-two thousand square feet of luxury specifically designed to indulge their every whim, my Darling Duo will appear quiet, mild mannered and well behaved offering up the requisite pleasantries, ‘please’ and ‘thank-you’, with those angelic smiles.
And, we will attempt to rest in the knowledge that there is minimal risk of formal complaints being logged by other disgruntled residents who are irked by the constant disturbance to their peace and tranquillity whilst they eat their a la carte meal and lounge by the pool.
These days, what can I say, Costa del Kids here we come!
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