So summer has finally made an appearance and that means holidays yay. The Raving Rev and I had planned our holiday. Down to the parentals for a week, I would show the Raving Rev where I was confirmed (a Christian not a lunatic, that came later) and where I lived. We would then leave my parentals in charge of our boy and head down to London. There we would meet up with the Raving Rev's parentals, catch up with friends and see some shows. It would be good and relaxing. It was good but relaxing? I forgot that if I want to relax, I need to leave the Raving Rev at home.
So we start off on our long trip. I was recovering from the flu and was not looking forward to doing an eight hour drive. The Raving Rev has just passed his driving test and proudly states that he can share the driving. My stomach knotted. It's not that he's a bad driver, he's still learning and isn't fully road savvy yet. We have to navigate treacherous bendy roads, dual carriageways and.....motorways! I began to wonder if this holiday would be our last. I feel deeply sorry for the Raving Rev. You see, I've been driving for half my life now and it's hard to hand over the control. Also, I've turned into Mrs Bucket from Keeping Up Appearances. Whenever the Raving Rev is driving all he hears is "mind out for that car"; "don't hit the cyclist"; "there are sheep up ahead"; "you're going too fast"; "aaargh, you're too close to the wall". I feel for him, I really do.
After what seemed an age we finally got to my parents at three in the morning. Cup of tea, straight to bed and the holiday had begun. I woke up to glorious sunshine and intense heat. It was great. We relaxed. We chatted. We ate. So good. The next day was just as beautiful and mum and I decide to go into town. You see, being so used to cooler temperatures and not much sun, I had only packed jumpers and jeans. Not very good for hot summer days. So I went to the shops and bought a dress (yes it was that hot it warranted a dress), a pair of shorts (real summer gear) and a skirt. It was slightly depressing as the clothes shops have shrunk all the clothes which means I have to buy the next size up. I am going to write and complain to the fashion industry about this latest development, it makes shopping a depressing experience instead of a joyful one.
That evening we went for a barbecue at my uncle's and I proudly announced my
new purchases and how I would wear them the next day. The sun set, night time came. The moon shone in the sky and I waited, with anticipation, for the
sunrise and the chance to wear my new clothes. I fell into a peaceful slumber, smiling. Ah, summer.
I awoke slightly confused. I felt that I had slept for hours but it was still dark. I could hear my parents moving around and wondered what had happened to get them up in the middle of the night. I reached for my phone to check the time. Nine-thirty! I sat up, bewildered. Had I slept through the whole day to the next evening? I mean, I knew I was tired but I didn't think that I was that tired. I got up and went through to them and realised, with such sadness, that it was nine-thirty am and it was pouring down with rain. The sun, it seemed, had decided to take its holiday at the same time I had. This was not the summer holiday I had anticipated. What about my new clothes? It was too cold to wear them now. My bottom lip quivered and I skulked off to get showered and dressed into my regular gear - jeans, jumper and boots. It rained for the next five days. Apparently the world was not ready to see me in a pair of shorts.
The day fast approaches for our trip to London. I am looking forward to the train journey. The Raving Rev did brilliantly. By booking the tickets a few months in advance, he managed to upgrade us to first class for the princely sum of five pounds extra. How posh! The night before we're due to leave the Raving Rev informs me that he's cancelled our self-catering apartment. I stare at him in horror. Where are we supposed to sleep? He grins. He's been clever. He went onto a website and managed to get us an upgrade. We were going to be staying in a five star hotel for the same price as the apartment. My jaw dropped. A real luxurious holiday. First class travel and a five star hotel. The hotel was near the Tower of London, it had a spa, swimming pool, you name it, it had it. This was going to be exciting.
The day finally arrives and we're on the platform waiting for the train. I am like a jumping bean. I'm going first class! The train comes in and keeps going and going before eventually coming to a halt. It is an extremely long train and it's with horror that we realise that our carriage is all the way down the other end of the platform. We have three minutes to board. There is no way I'm going to make it. I look beseechingly at the Raving Rev. "Forget it. I'm not carrying you and you're case." Fine, humph. By some miracle we make it to the carriage, get our cases in the luggage compartment AND get seated before the train pulls away. Now this should have been a fabulous journey but it was marred by the fact that we had to share a table with two accountants. I have nothing against accountants but these two were soooo boring. The woman was sadly the worst. She did not shut up for nearly the whole journey! She was petrified of silence. All she did was talk at her friend whilst he sat there nodding. I heard and learnt all about her daughter; how her daughter fell out of a tree and got concussion; how a certain health board was not great; how she was feeling stressed because they were going to be moving soon. On and on she went. She was so loud and her chatter so incessant that the Raving Rev and I were unable to hold a conversation ourselves. So our first class trip was nice as we got a free meal and teas and coffees but ruined by the woman who suffered from a severe case of verbal diarrhoea.
We get off the train and head for the underground and soon, we're at the hotel. My jaw dropped when I saw it. It had doormen in top hats. A marble foyer.
Expensive furniture, you name it, they had it. We went in and up to the desk. It was at this point that I noticed some of the other clientele. There was a young twenty something girl, stood there with here Gucci bag and Louis Vuitton suitcase. There was another in her Prada top. I suddenly began to feel slightly out of place. I was stood there in my Joe Brown coat, BooHoo jumper, jeans and Doc Marten boots - these ones.
Oh yeah, I fitted right in. The poor doorman came over and asked if he could take our case for us. I almost screamed at him hysterically "NO! I mean, no thank you". Why was I so against him taking my suitcase? I could not bear the thought of my minimals case (a suitcase covered in little animals) mixing with the posh cases. I admit it, I was feeling embarrassed and out of place. Thankfully a family came in shortly afterwards wearing jeans and t-shirts. I felt better that we were not the only ones in non-label, expensive clothes. The receptionist was lovely and told us that they had upgraded our room, woohoo! This was turning into a seriously luxurious holiday.
We go up to our room and it was so gorgeous! Mahogany and walnut veneer on all the doors and cupboards. Bose stereo (oh yeah). Forty-two inch flat screen TV. The room was bigger than the downstairs of my house and the bed was so comfy. The Raving Rev had done good, until he saw a lever. I was stood at the bottom of the bed, texting my parents, telling them of the beautiful room. The Raving Rev is flitting all around the room exploring every cupboard and drawer. I am absorbed in my texting when I suddenly hear a thunk and feel a paralysing, shooting pain in my foot. "Ow, ow, ow, OW, OW, OW". The Raving Rev stands there, like a statue "what? WHAT? Oh". In his exploring he had found a lever at the end of the bed and of course, he had to pull it. This resulted in the bed dropping down onto my foot.
Sheepishly, he scurried over, fiddled with the lever and the bed moved off my foot. It had all been going so well until then. It didn't really help that he was laughing all the time he was trying to remedy the situation, nor the fact that he kept laughing for the rest of the day when he was trying to say sorry.
Our trip in London was good. We went to the Royal Albert Hall to see the Star Trek film with the orchestra playing the soundtrack live. We met the Raving Rev's parents which was great. The first words his dad said to the Raving Rev upon seeing him "you've got fat". I'm glad they didn't say that to me, I would have spent the whole day weeping. We went to the British Museum and saw the mummies. Half way through the whole museum was evacuated, why we don't know. What I do know is this, the speed at which people were moving, if there had have been a fire or bomb, we would have been burnt to a crisp! There's being calm and orderly and just downright sluggish.
Sadly, the in-laws could only stay with us for the day and the day went far too quickly. So, to console ourselves we went to the cinema. People laugh at us for going to the cinema on holiday but you see, where we live, there is no cinema. We have to wait for a cinebus to come round which is approximately once every three months and it always shows rubbish films. It hardly ever has the big new releases. So in London, we met the in-laws, met with friends for a day, went to the cinema, found a fabulous church - All Hallows' Church, saw a duck in Leicester Square, found Petticoat Lane and bought a couple of suits and had a great time, apart from the broken foot but least said soonest mended.
The trip home was great. On the train, first class, we had a table to ourselves. We discovered that the seats recline! We had tea and coffee. We were able to chat. No annoying accountants. It was brilliant. The drive home was in the summer sun. It was a lovely relaxing time.
Holidays are good; sun is good; everything is good.
Have a great summer and holiday.
Be blessed.
No comments:
Post a Comment