Did you notice that April came and went and I didn’t kiss goodbye to suburban soil and work commitments?
We were going with the kid’s godparents, and we were meeting the dude, Sem’s, parental unit who were travelling from Turkey. The plan was to stay in a kick-arse villa in a kick-arse resort in Phuket and just sit around the pool/beach sucking back icy cold whatevers, getting sun on our buns, while the children frolicked gaily.
Alas, one of the parental unit, Sem’s stepmum, got bird flu and was looking tres serious in the ‘probably never going to Thailand department’. She was likely to never leave hospital for a while there, which was very scary and saddening for my friends.
They wanted to cancel, and we would all lose our flights and villa (all paid for). Being the only one who was not grief stricken by the possibility of losing a loved one I suggested we postpone in hope she can come later, or we will be feeling less sad and more up for sandy bum-crack vay-cay.
We did that. We postponed until the end of September. Four weeks away. Thankfully, Stepmum is well again, but not well enough to travel, so we are going Hans Solo.
It may seem like I gad about the countryside a lot, but it’s rarely solely for pleasure or more than a weekend and it’s been a long time since I’ve had a proper holiday (like before the split) so I have been looking forward to this for a REEEEEEEEAAAAAAALLY long time.
The kids are pumped, and I’m mentally packed and on that plane drinking a Corona when my friends called saying they were worried about the safety in Thailand right now. There has been unrest and a bombing and they were terribly worried about putting their family (and mine) in danger and they were seriously considering cancelling.
I said sure. I said I understand what they’re saying, shit be scary out there in the world and I respect their decision but I. AM. GOING. ON. HOLIDAY.
Perhaps I am cavalier, but I didn’t even look at the safety suggestions for the region until they mentioned it. I don’t want to live my life in fear of what might happen. Sure, I wouldn’t pack my sarong, and leopard Havianas and head to Iraq but I could just as easily get wiped out on my way to work one day.
I put it to my boyfriend who has previously been unable to join us due to work commitments and I said I was going, if he’s worried about me travelling alone then he’d better get a ticket. This holiday HAD to happen or I may just lose my shit.
Or my mind.
Or my shit, then my mind, and that does not sound like you could clean it up without a power hose.
We were already booked for our jabs yesterday. Had I been going alone I wouldn’t have gotten vaccinated because I’m a loose cowboy who recklessly views illness whilst travelling as a way to lose 10 kilos, however, it was recommended by the doctor so I got us all locked and loaded.
Had I been going alone I wouldn’t have gotten vaccinated because I’m a loose cowboy who recklessly views illness whilst travelling as a way to lose 10 kilos, however, it was recommended by the doctor so I got us all locked and loaded.
I said I would go first, because, well, I’m the grown up and am supposed to be unfazed by needles. Then D Man volunteered to go second and Kiks was not stoked about going third but she was resigned to that fact that it was a necessary evil to be able to eat mango by the pool in a tropical destination.
Should have been fairly straight forward except when we got there she changed her mind. D Man barely got a lip wobble so I thought things would be cool… sadly, no. My Kiksy got very upset and decided she did not wish to go to Thailand after all. No. Way.
She yelled the house down, I mean, blue murder. She wrestled, she stared down the nurse a la The Exorcist and screamed –
DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT!!!!! (And the Oscar goes to…..)
She was so busy having an epic meltdown that she didn’t even realise we were finished, at which announcement she stopped immediately and happily took a handful of jelly beans. We walked out of the nurse’s clinic, back through the waiting area and the six people there looked at us as though they were expecting someone covered in blood with a limb missing.
I felt terrible about the forcing of the needles, but I am going on this holiday and I will not have Hepatitis A or thyphoid ruin anything for me, or them.
Anyway, after chats to DFAT, my friends are now coming feeling safe in the knowledge that it’s not really a risky zone.
In four weeks, I will be beach side, under a palm tree, loving the shit out of my life, my family and friends because everything is better in paradise. Except Hepatitis. That’s sucks everywhere.