Posts Tagged ‘travel’


May 23, 2013

I don’t think my sister has wifi. Why should that matter to YOU? Well, by the time you’re reading this, we will be in her flat.

We had always planned to go to ..uh, big capitol city we used to live in, let’s call it Luvdom, this weekend. She is having all of her furniture and everything shipped from Country A and has been in a bare flat with only one plate, knife, and fork for months, which is why she hasn’t wanted us yet. Well, her furniture is yet to arrive, but we were like, shit, dawg, we can camp there. We keep it real with the plastic bags shoved full of our own bedding and inflatable beds. No probs.

Unfortunately her dog is a bit ill, and Blondie needs to take her to the vet Thursday for some medical stuff to be done. At exactly the same time the Country A people will be delivering her shit. So, like the dyke in shining armour I am, we will be driving up to Luvdom Wednesday night after TMD gets home from work. Me and the kids are staying through Monday, while TMD is taking the train back to our city…..PirateTown (they talk like fucking pirates here, really)… Thursday, going to work Friday, then coming back to Luvdom.

I’m happy she’s coming, because directing moving people around a strange flat while keeping two three year olds out of the way would have been a real treat.

Friday Blondie has to work. So we will be visiting her office – let’s just say every kid in the country would KILL for a chance to do so. She works for a very popular and well known gaming company, and kids everywhere are obsessed with collecting all the merchandise, watching the YouTube videos, playing the game, etc. Her office has recently been featured in My Favourite Newspaper/Website as ‘Country B’s coolest office’ or some such thing. It has a slide between levels! And all sorts of other stuff. The kids will love it. And no doubt walk away with all sorts of freebies.

I’m hoping we will see Lady and her gorgeous boys that day as well – she lives in Luvdom, so we don’t often get to meet up. She doesn’t have a blog that I’m aware of, so I’m saying here for the record that she knows of the chicken pox risk and is willing to take it. This is a binding public statement.

Next Tuesday will make it two weeks from two days before Snort came out in spots, which is Coco’s earliest possible exposure. So hopefully she won’t get spots till mid/late next week, but who knows. In theory she could get them Saturday. Unlikely, but there you are.

At any rate, today is packing, oh, epic packing. A trip to the dentist for my still crazy tooth, all the drama from it gives me copious diarrhoea. Then an illicit drive thru trip for tea, changing kids into pajamas, and leaving for Luvdom around 7. You’re reading this sometime after 10 am Thursday, which means through the magic of time travel we will have already had two kids sleep in the car to Luvdom, before waking up and staying up till like 2 am from excitement and recharged sleep batteries. Which means you are reading this as I weep with exhaustion, fake smiling every time the movers look at me.

Catch you on the flip side.

(And lest you think of robbing us, we are not leaving the house empty and devoid of people.)

Here’s where we begin praying for good weather, so a first experience for the kids can ROCK.

September 1, 2012

We quite often pass a sign advertising a huge bunch of tents on display. The past couple of weeks I’ve thought we should go check it out, especially as it is the end of the season and bargains might be had.

TMD and I both worked at a summer camp in Country A. That’s how we met. It was very primitive, with tents, no electricity, and latrines that were holes in the ground. We also once went on a two week road trip camping adventure (every stop unplanned, but all wonderful) shortly after I moved to Country B.

Since the kids were born, and probably before that, I’ve been so so so keen to take them camping with us. But the reality of twins coupled with my physical problems has meant that here they are, at the ripe old age of three, and they’ve never been camping.

This morning I suggested we go to the tent place. Just to see.

Our current tent we own, too small for a family, was free. TMD worked at a camping store, and it was a display model with one snapped elastic cord. They were going to throw it away. And it was a great tent! We are hanging onto it as we anticipate needing it in the future.

The tents today were another matter. Tents here look a lot different than tents in Country A. Radically different. Don’t ask me why, but camping here also looks different – largely in empty fields as opposed to in forests or by lakes. So maybe that impacts the tent formation?

ANYWAY. We looked at all the tents, surprisingly difficult to do when your children insist on stripping off shoes and clothes upon entering each tent, and liked them all okay. One of the ones that stood out for me was, of course, a display model with holes in the roof where pigeons had torn it (but it was mended with superman tape). My inner snob turned me away from this tent.

TMD then spent a large chunk of time ferrying Coconut to and from the bathroom, as multiple poop attempts were made, so Snort and I had some time to check out more tents. Until The Tent Guy started putting up another tent. Snort was fascinated. We talked about poles and guy ropes and pegs, then the guy was like, ‘Would you like to help me? I’ve got a job you can do.’ Snort was over the moon. The guy handed him a folded up pole and asked him to click it all into place.

Once this was accomplished, he refused to put the pole down and held it tightly until the guy needed it. Very cute.

The tent was finally erected and Snort was chuffed when the guy told us that ‘they’ had put it up together. He and Coconut, by now with no trousers or shoes on and us resigned to the fact, raced around and around inside the tent, as the bedroom pods hadn’t been up yet so it was a huge open space. I stepped in and was sucked into it. I already knew I’d be predisposed to it because Snort helped put it up, but it was nice.

You guys, it was a new model of the display tent I liked. The guy was like, ‘This is 250, but honestly? I’d get the display model. It’s way cheaper, the tape is a very good mend and it’ll hold out for years, etc.’

TMD was all, ‘Considering our last tent was free, spending 50 on this one is actually a big step up in the world’ and ‘Getting a display tent with holes really is more our style.’ Plus it was so cheap that it really isn’t a big risk. So we got it! She’s big, blue, and beautiful.

We are already booked in to camp next Saturday, just for the night, at a place that seems nice. But the best thing is we found another super local site that actually allows campfires (usually a no no in Country B) and is a very close commute to TMD’s work. Seriously. If it is nice we will be there a lot, for days at a time. Next spring and early summer might be difficult if TMD is heavily pregnant as I’m still essentially a partial cripple you cannot count on, but YOU GUYS. I want to live on a campsite.

TMD has just said it would be a great job to own one. I so want to. This is seriously my new life ambition. Buying a field somewhere, living in nature, meeting new people, etc.

Seeing the kids squelch barefoot in mud today, blowing kisses at frogs and picking snails off the tent bottom as TMD rolled it up…..oh, it’s reawoken something in me.

I turn 34 on the fifth. I think 34. So next weekend will be my little birthday camping treat, and hopefully it bodes well for the year to follow.

And…um…it’s an eight man tent. TMD is about one hundred percent certain she only wants three kids (though we do want to foster in the future), but hey….the extra sleeping berths can’t hurt, right?

Reunited with my money…now only nappies for one kid forEVAH….for now, anyway.

June 30, 2012

We are in Country A!

Coconut survived a three hour journey to the airport, a night in the hotel, three hours at the airport, an eight hour flight, another hour at an airport, and an hour drive to my mom’s house with no accidents. I think it is safe to say we no longer need to carry three pairs of spare trousers and four extra pairs of underpants everywhere we go.

We’ll be at her house today, but tomorrow we are driving to…uh…north, very north, and we’ll be in a cabin in the woods for a week. Hope your week is nice, all.

Action packed excitment in entry form.

January 5, 2010

I’m awake. TMD’s dad called and spoiled my lovely ‘let’s all sleep because we’re jetlagged and sick’ haze. Coconut and Snort are still slumbering – I should check on them, actually. Hang on.

Okay, back. They are both still asleep, though when I touched Coconut’s tummy to check her breathing, she moved slightly and I sprang back from the cot like it was on fire. I froze in some fucked up position, thinking, ‘Please don’t wake up yet, stay asleep, just a little, I need to poop.’ Really I suppose I should want them to wake up, to stop the jetlag from carrying on. It’s odd.

As an adult, I do think the jetlag is montrous coming from Country A to Country B. Most people are fucked up by the overnight flight. I know I rarely have slept on it (and oh, do you want to hear how yetserday’s overnight flight went? Fuck a doodle doo, yo.), and then you emerge from the airport on this side and it’s daylight, despite the fact that your body is telling you it’s one in the morning.

But the babies weren’t bad. Their sleep was totally fucked due to that flight, but both had their first feed in the 11 am hour yesterday. Not too shabby, and think they’ll adjust back quite easily. *touch wood*

But flying to Country A? Usually no jetlag, though you may want to hop into bed a bit early the first night. But Snort and Coconut? Up at 3 am, in bed by 4 pm for the first few days. Holy awesomeness, right? I know everyone wants to be up for the day at 3 am. I may in fact become some sort of shift worker, just so I can start living like someone who has no need to see the sunlight.

Eventually their schedule shifted back – at first by minutes a day, and then hours. It was perfect by about a week and a half.

Fuck. Would you look at me? Writing about jetlag and sleep schedules. I AM SO TIRED. Damn you, TMD’s dad.

If blood makes you squeamish, don’t read.

December 14, 2009

Thank you for all the great travel tips – we hadn’t even considered bringing tops for us in the carry-ons, and as soon as I read that comment we laughed and realised we were fools.

So the packing continues.

And the sleeping. Ever since I had the swine flu shit-a-thon, I have been tired tired tired. On Saturday I went to bed around 4 pm. I surfaced for about an hour at 10 pm, then slept right through till morning. Even once I was ‘awake’ yesterday, I could not more. Actually couldn’t. It felt like being a teenager again.

I think I coming down with a little cold or something. My job is to eat echinacea tablets like they are going out of style, and to make sure I don’t bleed anywhere. Yes, yes, my period is here for another visit. AND IT IS FUCKED UP.

For about the last week, my SPD has surpassed itself. It’s really going all out to make it hard to move. Didn’t click in my mind that perhaps my period was coming, although my SPD went mental last time as well. And the new thing? My C section scar hurts on the inside. Like it is ripping apart, like it is brand new.

And the masses of bleeding I thought were due to it being my first period a few periods ago? No, apparently now that I’ve had children my body thinks it is groovy to just create a bloodletting experience. Perhaps it assumes that I have kids already, so now it is okay to just totally let go. Blood everywhere.



As I said, thanks for the travel tips. A blog entry that isn’t about blood is coming soon, but that doesn’t guarantee there won’t be more blood entries at some point.

I always love making lists, particularly in journals.

July 10, 2008

As of today, I’ve been to:

Mexico – watched my father get my little sister drunk, snorkled a reef – sharks on the other side, secretly pleased when father accused by immigration staff of kidnapping my sister, had to pee really bad in the airport, had a lot of lime-flavoured stuff

America – participated in multiple roadtrips (alone and with others), got my picture taken with Jimminy Cricket, lusted after haunted houses, learned to tap dance

Scotland- camped on a mountain next to the ocean, discovered spinach goujons, went on many a ghost tour, was really cold, wanted to buy a certain church and live there, felt right at home, accidentally found Grangemouth, went down inside a mountain to visit a power plant

England – discovered that tides are not just a myth after all, felt non-mystical at Stonehenge, had some Real Good Times at various seasides, had a two week roadtrip with TMD, refused to eat cream

Canada – camped and camped and camped, had bears climb on our car, my sister almost got killed by a lantern melting her sleeping bag, Montreal almost caused my father to murder some French Canadian people

Belgium – had a midnight dance party on the side of a deserted road, had some coffee in a rest area, continued through to France

Wales – LOVED a certain forest (which TMD now informs me is not actually in Wales) and want to live in a treehouse there, freaked out at small roads, listened to an audio tour of a castle in Welsh

France- saw a lot of dog shit, went up the Eiffel Tower, rode le petit train, slept in the car, took covert videos of a friend ordering beer in French, inadvertently took my mother and sister to all sorts of shitty places, had an internal rage storm at TMD’s father, rode a ferry, stole a kite and flew it on the beach, was chased through the streets by a small Jewish man towing a suitcase on wheels

Sweden – got into a fight with Aussie via Crazy Bitch, froze, climbed trees, marvelled at the cleanliness of the airport, took lots of artsy pictures by the river, all three of us had our periods and diarrhea in the same toilet flush

Denmark – looked at a lot of cool things and did not buy anything because the purchase of one small McDonald’s fries wiped out my bank account, walked the longest pedestrian street in Europe, watched people ice skate, watched Crazy Bitch hold back Aussie’s hair as she puked off a pier

Ireland – wore a rain outfit from head to toe, TMD’s first experience of my mother’s public farting, hung out with my aunt’s old lady friend, went to the oldest pub in Ireland for dinner, watched people dance without using their upper bodies, touched Bear’s worry stone a lot

Northern Ireland – got into a raging fight the likes of which had not been seen since I was twenty, rolled down a hill, attracted the attention of men in boats, saw all the religious hate graffiti in Belfast

Italy – almost cried with joy when we found a falafel eatery, climbed a lot of stairs, hung out in parks and woods, tried to take a FORBIDDEN picture of David but was too chicken to do so, made out with TMD a lot, ate salsa and crackers more than I care to remember, am still pissed about the non-working giant hottub in the courtyard

Holland – got run over by a bike (luckily was so high I didn’t feel it), lived in a houseboat, went into Anne Frank’s hiding place, smoked a lot, went on a tour of the Heineken breweries (second time in my life I have been high and drunk, the first being after my senior prom) and had an impromptu dance party, tried to grocery shop and act like we were natives, almost got snowed in

All this from someone who did not get in her first airplane until she was seventeen. As I reread this little listie, one question reverberates in my mind: Why the fuck have I been to France so many times?

It’s all relative for 200, please, Alex.

April 27, 2008

Well, it’s official. Opposite Gender Soulmate is in the same country as me. And while he flounders around the airport trying to figure out how to get to the hotel he has no address for, I am here messing around online. You could hardly tell I had a best friend in the country, now, could you.

Elaborate plans were hatched with my trousers around my ankles, shit reluctantly leaving my body. Old plan: meet him at the airport. New plan: meet him at the hotel. The trick is to meet him after he showers but before he decides it really is too much trouble to stay awake. I offered him the chance to sleep for a few hours and he didn’t want it, so now that motherfucker is going to stay awake whether he wants to or not.

I did tell him he was underestimating what travelling overnight in this direction does to your body. Jetlag is truly a whore, though he will be working so I suppose he’ll be forced to try to adapt. But today? I picture him being really bleary, perhaps slap-happy.

I, in the meantime, have woken up during the 5 o’clock hour and am now fully dressed at a time I am normally still sleeping through. I suppose I’m going to work on the essay. No, I’m not kidding. Yes, my life sucks a little bit.

Still, I’m all packed up with a map, camera, and umbrella. I feel like I get to be a tourist soon, and that’s pretty fucking exciting. I remember when a McDonald’s over here could make me gape with wonder, because I was sitting in a 400 year old building eating fries and looking out at a bunch of other 1000 year old buildings.