What a lovely holiday we had. Such a distant memory already, it’s surprising how quick you get back into the same old routine. But holding onto the holiday for a second more, it really was fabulous. We arrived in Egypt just in time for dinner being served, went to the room, got ourselves fresh and having been deprived of any decent food for all of, err, 5 hours, we were starving. We gave the buffet a battering then went to the bar. One of many, like a little pub crawl on site, what more could a girl ask for. Needless to say within the first 3 hours of arriving in Egypt we had already gone through the cocktail menu and were rather happy. I think it must have been altitude or something! Once thoroughly sloshed we headed back to the room…..
Great night and as a result the first day there I had a stinking hangover to contend with. I know it sounds like I am always drunk, but really I very rarely drink much. Only a handful of times in the year, honestly Sir. The first night put me off of volumes of alcohol and cigars for the rest of the week so I did limit myself to tipsy on the other nights. At least I could remember all the other details so I know I had behaved reasonably well. I didn’t verbally abuse or embarrass anyone nor was I done for indecent exposure so all in all it worked out well.
The weather was great, the food was good, the sights were reasonable. Of course by sights I am not talking great Egyptian history, I mean some fairly decent looking tanned totty to keep me amused in a moment of ‘what would it be like to do him, I mean know him?’ I was merely observing the effort that must have been put into having pecks and a six pack so well defined and how long he must be working up a sweat for in the gym and that his stamina must be pretty good. Clearly I would have been interested to know these details, for his health and well being, obviously!
So other than the usual little holiday glitches, such as my husband breaking the lock on my case whilst sneaking back to the room when I was sun bathing to romantically hide a piece of jewellery amongst my belongings. In doing so he inadvertently changed the combination of the lock on my case, which was only locked because he broke the safe and we had to put the valuables somewhere before the dodgy cleaner came in. Thus later leading to husband on the floor trawling through 1000 combinations whilst I had a lovely shower, before he was prepared to be beaten and seek help from a handy man. He wasn’t particularly handy if you ask me, but he did get the lock open and Egypt could sleep easy knowing that I wouldn’t have to go commando for the remainder of the holiday!
Other than the lock there was an evening with no water as the pipe broke and inconvenienced everyone, but it was soon fixed and we could shower in orange water once more. All was fine until the day we came to leave when our names were not on the list and they refused to take us to the airport. Not sure why they weren’t on the list but a couple of harsh words to the dopey Thomas Cook rep did the trick and we were back on our way.
Fabulous, safely home and back to the grindstone. Same amount of cleaning to do, same places to go, same faces to see, food to go buy, which by the way I hate with some severe passion. You come back from holiday all nice and relaxed, then before you manage to drag yourself back into the office you must cling to every last second of what still is a holiday and land yourself in Tesco to get the vitals.
God, it is frustrating and even worse during a week day. It is the time that all non working parents in the world flock to a small superstore with what seems thousands of irritating children trailing behind and causing bored havoc whilst their more irritating mums stand gossiping in the aisle when I am trying to get through. I really am not a very patient, nor it seems tolerant person of late and it was only a matter of time before I could see myself having a blazing holiday blues row with some tinned blonde track suit wearing twerp who insisted on getting in my way. Fortunately all of Tesco were saved from my mood when an offer of “let’s get outta this shit ‘ole and grab some lunch,” came my way. Calamity narrowly avoided.
Having done the shopping and unpacked it was time to wind up for work. I never thought it would be a smooth transition from holiday to work, only hoping that I could at least be gently eased in, over say a 30 minute period, but 10 seconds in and WHAM. Great your back, now you can deal with this... Oh God, why did I come back? I could I have stayed in Egypt, I could have eloped on my return, I could have ‘accidently’ hurt myself and been signed off for a few more weeks! Just some more time, why now? Oh well, 10 seconds in or 10 hours in, it was gonna get me so may as well have been sooner! Still, emotional wreck or otherwise we will pull through it, just as we always do. As my husband keeps telling me, doesn’t matter how bad things are or perceived to be, we still have each other (errggghhh). But actually, that’s more important to me than anything. What else in the world could possibly matter?!
