The night before…
This trip has been loooooooong awaited for, plans made, emails exchanged, meetings arranged… all very organised, systematic, tick, tick, tick. However, I find the final throws and actually leaving the house incredibly stressful.
I aim to live by the military ‘law’ of the 7Ps: Proper Preparation and Planning Prevent Piss Poor Performance! I was all packed up, travel clothes laid out- matching T-shirts for the children (for ease of recognition: obvs) and ready to go more than 2 weeks prior to our departure date: 2 x 22.4kg BIG back packs + 3 x 10ish kg smaller back packs + a ride-on Gruffalo Trunky (who can travel without one?!). Now we’ve been here for some weeks I’m not entirely sure what was in this back-breaking baggage collection as we’ve been wearing the same clothes in rotation and reading the same bedtime stories over and over! We are good for Lego, tech, The Chess Players Bible (a thick hard back text book Rex recently purchased, and sun cream though. OK.
I had also meticulously packed up and neatly stacked, boxes full of ‘Very Important Other Stuff’ for Vandy to drive over in 2 weeks time when he was due to join us for 2+ weeks. This did not transpire, thus on occasion I whimsically think about a few ‘luxury items’ sitting in those boxes….such as Guess Who, my running trainers (that I can’t use anyway as I’m 24/7 with the kids) and a bumper pack of baked beans (they are fiendishly expensive in Italy).
Covid regulations blasted my 7Ps out of the water however, and I was forced into the last minute activity of Fit to Fly tests within 48 hours of one’s arrival in one’s destination country. I was promised results would be in by 22:00 hours the next day and so at 19:23 hours when our flight is less than 12 hours away and still no word I am freaking out!!!! Family dispatched to the airport hotel pool I collapse, weak and sobbing wretchedly on said hotel bed going through all the scenarios again in my head: “what if one of us tests positive, our entire trip will be cancelled and we’ll lose all this fucking money spent on flights, tests, hotels, me not working etc etc.” We’d hoped to check our hold bags in the night before which would have simplified things in the morning, but no, we’d missed our window.
Family back from pool and starving, I attempt to pull myself together and be positive, encouraged by my fortifying husband: Vandy is a dream, his way through life a calmer, happier, more logical thinking one than my own- although in recent years my universal aim to purport an aura of positivity, serenity and joviality…..those who know me will hopefully agree I achieve this most of the time!!!!!! Answers on a postcard please).
2 pints and a LARGE glass of wine in, it’s 21:49 hours the boys are tired, Vandy is tired and I’m pissed. Hoorah- the results finally come through! ALL negative, thank FUCK! Italia- here we come!