Didsburydad's Blog

From the not so mean streets of M20, blog about being a dad, Didsbury and dealing with parental confusion

Archive for the day “September 4, 2015”

Postcards from Murcia 5/4 – The Epitaph, Didsbury 1 0 Murcia

Postcards from Murcia 5/4 – 

Didsbury 1 Murcia 0We landed easily, fought our way through Passport Control and Baggage reclaim – a broken stroller souring the mood.  

 Savaged by Baggage Handlers
I find that however keen I am to stay on holiday that the first flat-vowelled Passport Officer and the first nasal “Yor-ite” remind me of how much I love this sceptred chunk of the North West: but not this time.
We arrived home slightly low, a great holiday shaded by its proximity to work, school, nursery and cold mornings. Except the Pearly Princess whose paleness had found the constant Spanish heat difficult and had made her quieter than usual. As we stepped into the damp mulch of British summertime she grew, her voice returned and as pulling into Didsbury she whooped and clapped – which perked us up. 

 ready for some Mancunian cool

Four hours later Didsbury Son fell quickly into a pain that needed a speedy drive (still in shorts and sunglasses) to Children’s A&E. He is fine now, but needed an operation and is a bit sore.

My trepidation at coming home and the feeling of general malaise dispelled by the ease of getting from Didsbury to A&E in 15 minutes, the care he received from everyone and the quality of the drugs. Three of Manchester’s longstanding cornerstones.
Drains the tan a bit too quickly, but did feel like another rite of passage all around. 

Advertisements

Postcards from Murcia 4/4 – This Much I Know.

This much I have learned about family holidays as 39 years and 39 months sail into the distant past and the dread of another 6 years primary school edutainment looms into view:
1. The only advantage to flying with small children is priority loading. This does not compensate for knowing that your only chance of getting someone’s kit off in the plane toilet on board is if they’ve had an accident.
2. That the villa comes complete with Sky Sports and Movies only adds to your frustration that the only channels you’ll be surfing are CBeeBies, Pop and Didsbury Son’s Russell Howardathon on Comedy Central. 
3. Going through security is now one of the best bits. Watching stern security guards trying to deal with The Mighty Headed Boy’s button pressing and Foghorn Leghornesque questions and being hugged by the Pearly Princess can be a joy to behold.  

S

 
4. You would not think you had enough water in you to sweat as much as you do for the first 50 miles in your hire car. Your mantra “stick to the right, priority to the left” will haunt your dreams. 
5. Looking around the baby pool at the other parents I realised I was the only one who remembered the peseta and Laurie Cunningham playing for Real Madrid. 
6. My twins were the only boddlers not weeing in the swimming pool. They both insisted on getting out, standing next to the pool and weeing on the ground for an audience.
7. My holiday extravagances are more likely to lead to gout than a night of excess and a slight feeling of guilt.
8. I don’t judge anyone by their tattoos unless they are British and their tattoos are Sanskrit, Japanese, Chinese or Latin (football club mottos excluded), then I do judge them. 
9. Crisps taste better in the sun.
10. Wherever I go in the world, however deflated I am to return to Britain, the first flat voweled voice I hear at Passport Control reminds me this is home.
Home now and ready for the damp descent to autumn and those lovely winter nights when the ground shines and your breath leads you home. Good luck everyone. 

Post Navigation

%d bloggers like this: