*I had blogged about all of days one and two of our “holiday” and on hitting the Publish button, WordPress ate the last 3 quarters of day two. That or I had my thumb on the mouse pad and inadvertently deleted the last section seconds before publishing. Who knows. I do know that I am NOT spending the rest of this gloriously lazy Sunday retyping it, so here is day one of our disastrous trip*
On Friday 12 November, despite my rampant conjunctivitis, I excitedly packed for our long-awaited and much-deserved week-long holiday in Bloubergstrand. Little did I know, I was walking straight into the gauntlet. The Boot Camp of Disastrous Holidays with a Sick and Constantly Miserable Toddler …
Day One – Touch down in the Mother City
An hour into the two hour flight (which was delayed because two douchebags checked in their luggage and then didn’t pitch at the boarding gate, so we all had to wait – me with restless toddler on lap – for said douchebags’ luggage to be located and removed from the plane), I noticed the tell-tale signs of conjunctivitis in Luca: itchy eyes, yellow gunk floating around it his eyeballs and lots of rubbing. Somehow he’d managed to not catch it during the previous two and a half weeks before that I had it, but now it had reared it’s contagious little head. Fantastic. My plan was to call my GP on the Monday morning, to get an oral antibiotic and/or ointment to clear it up. Oh, haha … in hindsight I was a fool. Of course it wouldn’t just stop there. He’s a toddler. He wipes his eyes, licks his fingers, scratches his bum. I should have know that it would spread like wild fire. Well, I live and learn … and kick my own ass for not being a perfect, forward-thinking and “ready for ANYTHING” kind of mother. Anyway, we survived the flight and Luca obviously fell asleep ten minutes before we landed. We missioned to the car rental spot (which, for the record, is a proper trek from arrivals at CPT International!) and then proceeded to wait almost an hour and a half for a car that we had PRE-BOOKED three weeks earlier. Does that make ANY sense? By this time, it was after 1 (we left home that morning at 6:30am) and everyone was tired, irritable and hungry. It should also be noted that car rental places (HERTZ) give the most USELESS and probably unsafe car seats with their rentals. And, to add insult to injury, their staff
won’t don’t know how to even install them??? Major fail Hertz – last time we book a car through you. Anyway, after much swearing, sweating (damnit, it was HOT), huffing and puffing, we got the el-cheapo seat installed. We then punched in the address into my Garmin GPS and headed off to begin our holiday, properly. For whatever reason, my navigation system decided to take us the non-highway route, and we therefore took a scenic and rather rushed drive through Langa. Nice. We eventually arrived at our home for the week which, from the outside looked amazing. Beach front holiday apartments. What we weren’t aware of, was the state of the inside of the place. The house is owned by 3 guys who spend the majority of their year in Peru and live in Blouberg “twice a year”. Let’s just say that we spent the rest of our first day cleaning, mopping, washing and baby-proofing, all the while trying to keep said babies (Nic, Amanda and their 20 month old, Gabriella had invited us to join them in CPT for this holiday) happy and apart, as it seems that Luca turned into a [lovable] brute on the way to his holiday and found it necessary to chase Bella around for a hug at every opportunity, despite her ongoing refusals to cooperate. The boys went out and did a very successful grocery shop (I’m sure Nelwisa from Marvellous Maids will agree), coming back with everything we’d put on the list, and then some. Nice one boys! They brought home Nandos and we all wolfed it down and Amanda and I got ready to get the kids into bed. Bedtime, on holiday it seems, was an ongoing debacle. Luca’s gone to bed after his bottle, still awake, from about 6 months old. So I am completely out of practice when it comes to rocking, singing and coercing Luca into la-la land. I lay with him on the bed and must have sung 85 verses of Old MacDonald before his eyes started to get heavy. Needless to say, I didn’t make it back upstairs and instead passed out on the bed with a restless and slightly sickly Luca, waking up exhausted and covered in bruises and sore spots from being rolled over and kicked all night long.