Hi all. For those who read my last blog post, you’ll know that I’ve recently been on holiday, hence the slight gap between posts. For my first post since returning, I thought I’d recount my time abroad. It was our first proper holiday as a family and it was an experience. Making up the travelling party was my wife (Hannah), my daughter (Nala, nearly 4), my son (Gus, nearly 9 months), my mother-in-law (Diane), and me (Rob). It was a lot of fun writing this, so I hope you enjoy.
Day 1
Waking Up
Surprisingly serene. Very little stress. This could be because we’ve been packing for this holiday for weeks. Morning of, there wasn’t too much to do other than get ready. Which we all did without fuss. Final check of the bags and we were good to go.
Getting to the Airport
We had a minibus driver to take us to Gatwick. He’s a very nice chap, but he doesn’t come up for air! During the 75 minute journey, there was a period of about 45 seconds when he wasn’t talking. What was the highlight of the various conversations? It’s hard to choose. Was it the story of how a woman he drives regularly walking into her house to find her husband hanging from the chandelier? Or perhaps the details around his overflowing portaloo? Despite the unusual topics of discussion (not that we could get a word in edgeways), he got us to the airport with plenty of time before our flight. Success!
The Airport
The thing you need to know about Nala is that she isn’t great in unfamiliar situations, and she doesn’t really like busy indoor places. So it’s safe to say Hannah and I were nervous about how she’d be in the airport. She started off fine, but then became slightly difficult. That only lasted a while though. Because she then became very difficult. We went to the Wetherspoons to grab a bite to eat and to have somewhere to sit down. Nala screamed, inconsolable, for what seemed like an eternity. Yes, there were lots of people staring. Judging. Quite what set her off, I’m not sure. We wasn’t helped by the Wetherspoon online ordering system not working, which meant Diane having to leave to order at the bar. Despite Nala having no interest in her Nanny during the tantrum, as soon as Nanny left it turned the tantrum up to 11. Eventually it was Mummy to the rescue, having to sit on the floor with Nala until she calmed down. Gus was fine in his pram, not bothered by the screaming from his sister. Thankfully, the rest of the time between then and boarding passed without incident.
The Plane
Oh. My. God. Let me tell you, in Nala’s nearly four years, I’ve seen some tantrums. I’ve seen things that would make lesser men run for cover. I didn’t think there were any more levels. But Nala did not like being strapped into the plane seat one bit. We left her on the floor between Hannah and I for as long as we reasonably could. But she obviously had to be strapped in before the plane could move. It took two of us to get her buckled up. “GET IT OFF, GET IT OFF!” she shrieked. We calmly tried to tell her that we couldn’t until we were in the air. She was having none of it. Screaming, kicking the chair in front. We apologised to the guy in it, but there’s only so much that a “sorry” can help when your seat is being assaulted by the angriest little tap dancer in the northern hemisphere. She was so worked up that she was sweating and shaking. Eventually a nice stewardess (are they still called that?) offered us a child restraint that meant Nala could sit on Hannah’s lap. This somewhat calmed her. Gus, on Diane’s lap, didn’t give a flying fig (pun intended) as to where he was. Content as anything. Once the plane took off, both kids were good as gold. It was a rough start, but it ended fine.
Arriving in Zante
If take off was a nightmare, then the landing was a dream. Both kids strapped in, no problem. My wife even managed to feed Gus a dinner on the descent, while he was on my lap. Nala was next to Nanny… we’ll remember that for the way home. Some foreign airports are very difficult to get through. Some domestic ones too to be fair. But Zakynthos airport was a doddle; off the plane, quick bus to the arrival building, through passport control within about 10 minutes, all suitcases were on the carousel as we got to baggage claim. Boom, sorted. There was a (less chatty, but nice) minibus driver waiting for us. The minibus was gorgeously air conditioned, which was all I cared about.
The Apartment
The apartment we stayed in was great, but our rooms were on the first floor. Carrying five suitcases (the heaviest of which was 28kg) and a pram up a flight of stairs was hard work, especially in the heat! But we got in, got unpacked, and freshened up a bit. We were ready to go for some dinner at about 9pm local time.
Dinner
Mostly uneventful. When you’ve got two young children, uneventful is good. Hannah and Diane shared some sangria. I had Mythos served in a glass in the shape of a boot. Nala had ice cream (before anything else!). Gus sat in his pram and babbled away. Other than a few tears from Nala after she fell off a chair, it was a perfect night. After dinner, we headed back to the apartment for some much needed sleep.
Day 2
Our first full day in Zante could only mean one thing: the beach. I’m not going to lie, I was incredibly nervous about how Nala would react to the beach. Would she dislike the sand? Would she be scared of the sea? Would she be bored? She absolutely loved it. Without any prompting, she started playing in the sand. Then, completely alone, wandered a few feet into the sea. Luckily, the sea there was really shallow. I’m about six foot tall and I could walk about 100 meters into the sea before the water reached my chest. Also, the water was very calm; hardly any real waves to speak of. So we didn’t have to worry too much about Nala venturing a small way into the sea.
We spent most of the day there. Nala had chips and ice cream for lunch. Gus had some baby porridge. It was a very nice day.
We went out for a meal that evening. It was disgustingly hot though; it was 29°C at 7pm. No breeze to speak of. We were all uncomfortable. Nala wasn’t the best. She decided she wouldn’t sit down, so instead wandered the restaurant, coming back occasionally for a sip of drink or a chip off of one of the grownups’ plates. She asked for pizza and then didn’t eat any of it. Toddlers! We headed straight back for an early night after dinner; the busy day of travelling the day before had caught up with us.
Day 3
More of the same really. Back to the beach. Nala invented a game of running into the sea with a jug to gather some water, running back onto the sand and pouring the water onto it, before jumping in “muddy puddles” á la Peppa Pig.
One development on Day 3 was my sunburn. For anyone reading this who doesn’t know me, I’m mixed raced. And I’d say that as far as mixed raced people go, I’m on the darker side. Long story short, I don’t usually burn easily. Ordinarily, I can get away with popping a bit of factor 20 suncream on in the morning and I’m basically fine.
I’d been wearing factor 30 in Zante, but my chest and upper back got quite red. Don’t get me wrong, the weather was hot, but I’d been in hotter climates without burning before. I couldn’t understand why, but then Hannah hit the nail on the head: my body was out of practice. This was my first beach holiday since April 2017. As I don’t tend to sunbathe at home, my torso doesn’t usually see much sun. I paid the price for this early doors, but I resolved to put suncream on more liberally throughout the rest of the holiday.
That evening, we went to a restaurant which had a little play area next to the al fresco tables. Nala went down the slide about 50 times. She also enjoyed the trampoline, while Gus played with some blocks. The night was capped off with a horse and carriage ride, followed by yet more ice cream.
Day 4
Gus woke up about 5am. Not a problem, he fairly regularly wakes up at this time. At home, I usually take him downstairs at this time, so that his happy baby talk doesn’t wake Nala up. Given we were all sleeping in one big room in the apartment, I obviously didn’t have that option.
Unfortunately, he was in a funny mood that morning. He didn’t want a bottle, he didn’t want water. Because it was quite hot, he didn’t want to be held. Because of his slight clinginess (babies go through a separation anxiety phase at around 7-9 months…) he didn’t want to be put down. He was making a fair bit of noise, which meant Nala woke up at around 5.30am. Because it was a holiday, we were happy for the kids to stay awake a bit later than usual. But this meant Nala had only had about seven hours sleep. She usually sleeps at least 10 hours per night. We were going to have a tired toddler on our hands, folks.
We did the beach in the morning, before retiring to our room early afternoon, thinking that both of the kids may want a nap. Gus obliged, but Nala was far too excited to sleep, so Diane, Hannah, and Nala went to the swimming pool. Within minutes, Nala was asleep in a lounge chair.
Day 5
The day started a little differently, with the five of us taking a walk to a delightful bakery. Cheese pies and an array of sweet treats all round. And lovely coffee.
After our breakfast, it was back to the beach. But the beach was different from the other days. There was a lot of breeze and apparently there had been rain elsewhere on the island. This all added up to some pretty large waves. I’ve got to say – as much as I usually prefer a calm sea – it was a lot of fun battling the turbulent surf.
We wandered to a Chinese restaurant for dinner. Nala managed to break a rice spoon, but the meal was good. After dinner, we got the kids to bed and Diane kindly offered to watch them while Hannah and I went out for cocktails. What a great way to end the day.
Day 6
Thankfully the kids slept pretty well; we needed a bit of a lay in after the cocktails.
Over the previous couple of days, we half suspected that the novelty of the beach was wearing off a bit for Nala, so we headed to the swimming pool instead. There was a shallow children’s pool which both kids enjoyed. Gus bobbed along (being held, obviously) and had a good kick. Nala splashed around and sang a made-up song about swimming.
It was a bit of a challenge trying to teach Nala to walk – instead of run – around the pool. She got it eventually. We actually had a pair of non-slip pool shoes for her to wear. Would she put them on? No. Would she wear her life jacket? No. So we had to watch her carefully when she went near to the big pool. But other than a quick dip whilst being held by Nanny, she mostly steered clear of it. The adults ordered lattes to drink. There was a laughably small amount of milk in them. We didn’t quite get through them all…
After dinner, we got the kids to sleep and then enjoyed a couple of beers on the balcony. Nice.
Day 7
Not much of note to report from this day. We went back to the beach, which Nala seemed pleased about after a day away.
For dinner, we got takeaway gyros, which we ate on our balcony. After dinner, we headed to a mini golf course which had a “Toddler Play Area”. It was a pretty sorry excuse for a play area, with one small rickety slide, a caterpillar tunnel tube thing, and a playhouse that had one solitary adult-size dining room chair in it. But Nala seemed to like it.
We didn’t play mini golf, as I was the only one who would have been remotely interested in doing it. And let me tell you, there’s not much sadder than a 34 year old man playing mini golf by himself. The highlight of the night had to be Gus pulling over Hannah’s Pina Colada; he’s a very grabby baby!
Day 8
We took a little train (one of those ones that looks like a train, but it has tyres and drives on the road) to Zante Town. It’s a lovely little square by the water, with some (famous?) churches and other tourist attractions.
After stopping off for a bite to eat – during which Nala was a little terror – we found a little arcade. We thought Nala might enjoy a ride in the Hello Kitty car, or on the PJ Masks tea cups, but unfortunately none of the machines were plugged in. Nala seemed to enjoy sitting in the rides and making her own fun all the same.
We popped into some souvenir shops and Nala got a new teddy key ring.
Quick sidebar: I have no idea how these souvenir shops make enough money to stay afloat. There must have been about a dozen of them within a 100 yard radius, all seemingly selling the same stuff (read: toot).
There was a quick stop for ice cream, although Nala decided she didn’t want any, so had Quavers instead. Then it was off to catch the train back to Tsilivi.
Once back, we headed to the beach (via our apartment for a quick break). Due to our late showing, there were no sunbeds available on the sand. But we managed to grab a couple on the grassy bit just outside the beach hotel. Nala wanted to go in the hotel swimming pool. She went in with little hesitation on this occasion.
For dinner, we went for a lovely meal at the appropriately named Yum Yums. I had an amazing Mix Grill but, more importantly, Nala was a little angel. Gus slept the whole time too. It was so nice eating a meal without having to worry about one of the kids kicking off. We finished off by feeding some of the local stray cats some of our leftover meat from the night before. The day really couldn’t have gone better.
Day 9
Our final full day in Zante. To be honest, I think we were all about ready to come home. It’s not that we hadn’t had a lovely time; but it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep Nala entertained, and it seemed like the long days were starting to get to her.
For the last time, we marched the familiar path down to the beach. The sea was eerily calm. The calm before the storm perhaps? Although Nala had a few periods of playing nicely, the prevailing memory of the day is her many strops. The thing with toddlers is, sometimes they’ll make it perfectly clear why they’re upset. Other times, it will be a complete mystery. This was one of those times.
You find yourself offering as many solutions as you can think of. Are you hungry? Are you thirsty? Do you want to play toys? Do you want to go in the sea? Do you want to dig a hole or build a sandcastle? Do you need the toilet? Do you want a hug? When the answer to all the above is tears and/or a scream, it’s very difficult to know what to do. Distractions are great, but you can’t always distract a determined, moany toddler.
We rode it out for as long as we could before retreating back to the room in the afternoon. Not quite the way we wanted to leave the beach for the final time, but them’s the breaks.
After an afternoon of packing (and calming down!) we went out for our last supper. Gus sat in his highchair eating cucumber and chips. Nala was good whilst eating her pasta.
The evening ended with one final horse and carriage ride around Tsilivi. A lovely – if at times bumpy – end to the holiday.
Day 10
Waking Up
The first thing I should say is that Gus slept really well for the majority of the holiday. He slept through most nights. And on the two nights he did wake up, all he needed was a quick cuddle and then he’d go back down for the rest of the night.
It’s something Hannah and I were a bit worried about before the trip. Gus sleeps pretty well at home and we have a decent nighttime routine going with him (and Nala), so we thought the new location and routine might make his sleep worse. I don’t know whether it was the hotter temperature, or perhaps he had a fuller stomach where we would occasionally feed him some of our food at the dinner table but – whatever the reason – he slept great.
All until the last night. He woke up at 2am. No problem, quick cuddle and back down he went. But then he was up at 3am. Another cuddle and he was down again. 4am, up. I tried the cuddle technique – a technique, I’ll remind you, that had worked every other night I’d tried it – and put him down in his cot. Five minutes later, he was screaming again.
Now bear in mind that from 2am, I’d only been getting 50-55 minutes sleep at a time. For people who haven’t experienced this, those small chunks of sleep (though better than nothing), do not get you well rested. You’re not able to get into a deep sleep, so when you’re woken by a screaming baby, you feel foggy and groggy to say the least.
Anyway, it was clear Gus wasn’t going to sleep in his cot. So I laid him on my bed (two single beds in our apartment, plus a small bed for Nala) to see what he’d do. He fell straight to sleep and stayed that way. But what about me? Not only was he now in my space, there was no way I could sleep anyway, as the bed wasn’t safe for a baby to sleep unattended. Gus likes to roll about in his sleep, so without someone watching him, he could easily roll right off the bed. So I was now on night watchman duty.
It got to about 5.30am and I couldn’t stay awake any longer. Given he’d been asleep on my bed for nearly 90 minutes, surely he was settled enough for me to put in his cot? Nope, as soon as I tried, he awoke with more screaming. Thankfully at this stage, Hannah took over with him, and I managed to get my head down until about 7am.
I suppose you could say that we were lucky that we only had these difficulties on the last night; this could have been a nightly occurrence for the whole holiday. On the other hand, I knew what a busy day we were in for and I really wanted to be well rested. C’est la vie.
Getting to the Airport
Relatively calm. Getting the five suitcases downstairs was no picnic. Thankfully, four of the five cases were at least lighter for the return journey. This was slightly offset by one case going from 28kg on the way to Zante, to 32kg on the way home! But I got them down and could at least wheel them one at a time to the minibus. We had the same driver who picked us up from the airport and I was pleased to see him do the lion’s share of the loading of the cases into the boot. Soon, we were on the road, passing some of the local restaurants we had frequented, and quietly saying goodbye to what had been home for 10 days.
The Airport
I think I was full of praise for Zakynthos airport for our arrival. Departing from there is a different story. It started off fine. I liked the simplicity. You walk into the departure building and right in front of you are the queues to drop your cases off.
The queue was moving quite slowly, which isn’t ideal when you’ve got two young children in tow. And it’s not as if there was anything fun at the end of the queue. It’s one thing queuing for ages and then going on Splash Mountain. It’s another thing entirely when getting to the end of the queue just means you’ll now be queuing elsewhere.
Anyway, we got to the front of the queue and the reason for the delay became apparent. The woman behind the counter was training someone. So she was going through each step of the process in detail. I understand that shadowing someone is a good way to learn. But we really could have done with a speedier bag drop. Little did we know that this wouldn’t be the worst of our time in the airport.
Next up was going through security. This is stressful enough with kids because you have a lot of hand luggage, plus liquids like baby formula that has to go through separately. The security staff there made things much worse.
On the way out from Gatwick, Nala was able to walk through the metal detector holding Diane’s hand. And the pram went through the metal detector (I had to push it through without walking through myself, and then I went through 5 seconds later) and the security team then checked over the pram before returning it to us.
Not in Zante. Oh no. They told us to get Gus out of the pram, which we did. I was then instructed to go through the metal detector, which I did. Hannah walked through, but told me to go back because they wanted us to break the pram down. No problem. I broke the pram down and one part went through on the conveyor belt to be X-rayed. Unfortunately, the chassis was too big to fit. So this Greek security man – who only spoke broken English – asked me if I could take the wheels off. I told him that the wheels don’t come off. Full disclosure, it’s possible that they do; I just wasn’t expecting to have to and I couldn’t figure out how to do it under pressure.
In the meantime, Diane had walked through the metal detector with Nala. They told Diane that she had to go through alone. Bear in mind that the metal detector didn’t go off for any of us. So Diane let go of Nala’s hand and went back to the pre-metal detector section. Nala, suddenly finding herself “stranded” alone in an unfamiliar place with lots of people and lots of noise, started crying and ran back through the metal detector the wrong way to hold hands with Nanny again.
I think in the end, the security staff had just had enough of us and basically waved us through. We’d held up the queue for quite a long time. To be fair, a lot of people in the queue were English and seemed sympathetic to our situation. I think someone even commented to Diane that they couldn’t believe the way we were treated.
And look, I know airport security is very important. I know why they’re so careful about who and what goes onto a plane. But at some point, common sense surely has to be applied. Our pram isn’t even particularly big, and it folds down quite impressively. I don’t remember seeing too many other babies in prams, but I can’t help but think this is a problem they must encounter somewhat regularly. Why were there no signs telling us that the pram would need to go through the conveyor belt? Why did no one tell us until we were right on top of the bastard? Why are metal detectors apparently rendered useless if you walk through with a small child? Your guess is as good as mine.
That wasn’t even the end of our Greek tragedy. After the security debacle, we decided to get something to eat and drink. Unfortunately, Zakynthos airport isn’t really fit for purpose in regards to refreshments. Although there are a couple of nice places to get food, there are nowhere near enough seating areas to accommodate all the people there. So we got our food (a selection of baguettes and pastries) and some coffee for the adults.
Refreshments in hand, we went and found a spare bit of floor to hang out on. Two of the coffees were drunk successfully, but one of them got spilt. Not just the last few dregs, the whole cup. Not that it was overly important in that moment, but the spilt coffee was mine. And as previously mentioned, I was working on very little sleep. But I suppose there’s no point crying over spilled milk-y coffee.
I go up to a counter where a man in an apron was cleaning a surface down. I asked him for some tissue to deal with the spillage. Now, in years to come, perhaps historians will tell stories about the great Greek serviette shortage of 2022 and this man’s actions will be more understandable. He hands me two napkins. I say that it is quite a big spill, could I have some more please. He hands me another two…
I was too embarrassed to ask again, so I tried to soak up the coffee on the floor. My efforts turned Lake Java into Cup O’ Joe Pond; the spillage was smaller than before, but not by much. Thankfully, a cleaner happened to walk by and we flagged her down. She was very nice about the whole thing. Knowing the coffee puddle was being sorted, we made our way to the departure gate.
This was it. Just one short bus journey to the plane. What could possibly go wrong? We were first in the queue, so we were first on the bus. The bus was very hot. More and more people filled themselves into the bus, until we were quite tightly packed. It seemed to be getting hotter and hotter. But not to worry, here comes the bus driver. He sits in the driving seat, turned the engine on, and off we went… about 5 yards forward. He stopped the bus and then wandered off.
In the end, we sat there for a good 15 minutes before we got going properly. It was hot, it was stuffy. But the worst part was that there was no explanation whatsoever. No “Sorry, there are flights taking off before yours, so we’re getting their passengers bused to the plane first.” or, “Sorry, I have to take a cocktail of prescription pills at very specific times of day, otherwise my heart will explode.” Nothing. Nada. Zilch. We got to the airplane eventually…
The Plane
Oh. My. God. The kids were so good! Gus was a little fussy, but ended up falling asleep before we even took off. He slept for around two hours, so a big chunk of the flight. Nala didn’t seem at all perturbed about being strapped in this time around. Whether it was because she knew the process having flew 10 days prior, or because she was sat next to Nanny, I don’t know. Nor did we care; no looking the gift horse in the mouth for us.
Nala did get a bit stroppy about 20 minutes before landing, probably due to boredom. But it only lasted 10 minutes. Trust me, if you’d offered that to me before we boarded the plane, I would have snatched your hand off.
Arriving at Gatwick
I had heard stories about how Brexit had caused all sorts of problems for Brits returning from holidays in Europe. Huge passport control queues and the like. It’s not that I didn’t believe the stories at all, but I guess I sort of figured the tales were being overblown a bit. Some exaggeration to make the story more newsworthy…
They weren’t exaggerating. Not based on what we witnessed. There were people everywhere at passport control. You couldn’t even call it a queue; it was a glut of people. Thankfully, there were lots of staff available, either checking passports or ushering people hither and thither, trying to organise the chaos.
Now during this blog, you may have gotten the impression that travelling with children is difficult. Because it is. But I was very glad we were in this moment, because there was a separate queue for any parties travelling with anyone 12 or under.
🎶HALLELUJAH!🎶
Don’t get me wrong, we still had to wait a while. But this queue moved a hell of a lot faster than the regular queue. Suck it, you childless travelers! All the ease and relaxation you had on your trip, well now it’s our time to shine!
Our moment couldn’t even be spoiled by Gus spitting up all over the floor just as we were about to approach the passport check desk. We certainly left our mark on the airports on this day… whereas I feel like we did all we could to address the coffee incident earlier in the day, I don’t mind admitting that we just left the spit up there. Not our finest moment, but we had to get through passport control.
We needn’t have rushed. We found the carousel where our cases would be appearing. I was prepared with two trollies for the five suitcases. But the suitcases didn’t appear. Not just ours, nobodies. It was quite quiet at the carousel when we got there. By the time the cases started coming out – half an hour later! – the area was heaving.
If anything summed up the day we’d had, it was me getting into an argument with an older fellow. For those who don’t know me, I’m not usually one for getting into arguments with strangers. I like to think that 99% of the time, I’m mild-mannered and level-headed. It’s probably at least partially why I write this blog; so I can vent my frustrations around various topics without actually having to confront anyone about it directly.
Anyway, this bloke: it was busy, but there was some space next to where we were for him to grab his suitcase off the carousel. Instead, he made a beeline for his case, which took him right through where we were waiting. He grabs his case, and I see that Nala might be in his way. She was sitting on the floor having a snack. Considering we were standing around doing nothing for 30 minutes, I think both kids did really well not to make more of a scene. I put my arm on her shoulder and said, “Come on, Nala, let the man past.”, moving her softly over so he had room to get through. He says to me, “Children shouldn’t be here you know.”…
I saw red. Did this man have the slightest clue how difficult a time we’d had just getting to this point? Did this man not realise that I would have loved to have been able to keep two children, two trollies, and four hand luggage bags out of everyone’s way. I obviously didn’t eloquently and calmly say this to him. What I instead said was, “Oh f*** off, mate, you can see how busy it is, give us a break will ya?” He mumbled something about child safety and then swiftly departed.
It’s been over a week since this incident and – in the cold light of day – I am embarrassed that I publicly lost my cool like that. However, I don’t actually regret what I said. This man showed absolutely no empathy towards our situation and thought the most productive thing to do at the moment was to have a moan. But I guess it works both ways. I don’t know how difficult his day up to that point had been. Perhaps he was exhausted and said something he wouldn’t usually say. Anyway, it’s water under the bridge now… After my war of words, we grabbed our cases, gathered up the kids and their accoutrements and left that Godforsaken airport.
Our chatty driver pulled up not long after we got outside. Though he had some bad news: traffic. Cars were backed up on the M25 for miles on the approach to the Dartford tunnel. Just what we needed! What should have been a 75 minute journey turned into a 150 minute journey. Getting stuck in traffic is bad enough at the best of times, but when you’ve been awake for 14 hours and have been travelling with kids all day, it’s a nightmare.
Having said that, the one silver lining was that we got to sit down, knowing that both the children were fine in their car seats. Dealing with traffic is definitely easier as a passenger.
And although it took a while, eventually we were travelling down familiar streets until arriving at our house. It was still standing, and the cars hadn’t been nicked, so that was a result. The cases, the car seats, the pram, and us were removed from the minibus and taken inside. And with that, the holiday was officially over.
It really was a fantastic holiday with many wonderful memories made. Yes, of course, it was a different type of holiday, going as a family with young children. And yes, at times it was stressful. But newsflash, it’s stressful at home sometimes too. And would you rather be stressed at home, or stressed on the beach with a cocktail? I know what I’m choosing. And most importantly of all, the kids had a great time. And at the end of the day, that’s what it’s all about.
If you made it this far, kudos. You’re a real trooper. I didn’t realise quite how long this would be until I started, and then the words just flowed. You’ll probably need a holiday yourself after reading this! At least you’ll be prepared. Until next time, take care.
A Rob Blog 