It would be great to pack a bag and jump on a plane to somewhere exotic, warm and remote. An oasis of quiet and calm lying by the pool with a pile of paperbacks waiting to be read, the smell of suntan lotion emanating from your listening skin and the mixed tape of 1995 playing away in the background.
Before I became a teacher – or had kids – we often would pop down to the travel agents and book a last minute trip to the Canaries in January. Winter sun is just what the doctor ordered in the bleak days of the new year. Temperatures similar to a good British summer would see you through until the sun reappeared in Scotland.
This year is an “at home year” because of Bub volume 3 making its début at the end of May. No foreign getaways because it’s just not practical and a mad road trip like we did a couple of years ago wouldn’t be easy with a full car and a very young child. Not that I resent the newest member of the Duncan clan, but you do make sacrifices when you decide to have kids.
Some of our single friends or ones without young kids are listing off all the destinations that they already have in their diary and the green tinge of envy appears – even more so when you see their photos on Facebook of them having a great time. How dare they!
Last year’s trip to Disneyland Paris was great and I’ve been spoiled over the previous three years when I got to go to Italy twice and France once with the school. It must be about six years since me and Jill had a break just the two of us – and it’ll probably be the same again unfortunately. That top up of sun and relaxation is much needed at this time of year when the wind is howling and rattling round the house as well as the snowflakes, rain and hail at the windows.
The best we can hope for is a really warm and sunny summer here at home so we can lie around and play in the garden as we did last year fr a good few weeks.
It seems so far away right now though.