In the past, special holidays have included, in order, places like Samoa, Vanuatu and Napier. I’m sure you will understand why we moved away from Pacific island holidays once you read a bit further.
But I digress. Let’s get started.
This big birthday would be no exception to the tradition and Mrs P and I took ourselves off for two nights in a farm cottage a couple of hours away and then three nights in a basic little bush hideaway another hour further on after that.
Simple. And relaxing.
Well at least that’s what we were hoping for.
So let me explain.
Firstly we were late getting away. No big surprise there. We always are. It’s because of the kitchen sink we take with us. It always is. I’m sure you get my drift.
Anyway. When we packed up the wagon train it was pouring with rain and I got wet.
By the time we got to the cutest of cute little cottages – and I’m sure it took longer to pack for the trip than to actually drive there – it was still raining. Naturally as I unpacked I got wet. Again.
Thankfully we had ample room to try and dry stuff so we spread it all out, had some tea and eventually hit the hay.
Dreamtime aside, I would say we’d been in bed approximately 10 minutes when we heard an increasingly loud drip close by.
A quick inspection revealed water was somehow getting in. Alarmingly it was coming through the interior meter box on the wall which housed the switchboard and all the electrical stuff.
As we sat up in bed considering our options, the lights we had just switched on suddenly decided to flicker.
Now I don’t know about you but these days I’m less inclined to chance such things. Yes, it is entirely possible nothing might have happened and come morning we’d have been sitting there enjoying a cuppa and laughing about the experience.
Conversely, we could both have been deep in slumber – me scoring the winning try in the World Cup final and Mrs P snogging Rod Stewart behind the bikesheds – when a shower of sparks blew forth from the aforementioned meter box with associated tragic consequences.
Another flicker of the lights made our decision for us and with due haste, and a little bit of panic creeping in if I’m honest, we got everything out of the building and back into the car. And of course I got very wet.
I think it would be unfair of me not to quickly mention the owners of the cottage who were mortified on receiving my midnight text and came straight over to assist, even offering to put us up in their own house for the night.
We cannot speak highly enough of their genuine efforts to help. We’ve told them we will definitely be back another time.
Now, to quickly explain, medical issues meant we could not take up the owner’s very kind offer of a bed and so we opted to drive back home to the comfort of our own king size electric bed with vibrating function and very comfortable - if not a bit weird position-wise - Zero Gravity setting.
Apparently, Nasa astronauts have beds with a Zero Gravity function to get used to in-space flight. Not sure if they have a vibrating function though. I don’t use mine. It just makes me want to wee. I can’t see that being very helpful if you spend 24 hours a day in a spacesuit.
But I digress. Again.
So now we are back home. Again. And I’ve unpacked. Again. And I’m very wet. Again.
Thankfully we’ve got a full day to dry out before we have another go at getting away.
The next day we set off without incident, got to our bush hideaway and finally got to relax.
I say “without incident”. That’s not entirely true. We had so much wet stuff as a result of our packing and unpacking in the pouring rain I opted to hang some of it out to dry in the garage.
Stupidly, in my haste to get on the road the next day, I completely forgot the stuff in the garage and we arrived at our destination without it. We still took a fair bit though. I suppose you could say we didn’t exactly take the kitchen sink this time but we took the plug that fits in it.
As it turned out we somehow managed without it and it has given us some food for thought as to what we might actually need to pack for future excursions.
Actually it is Mrs P who is having a think about that particular issue.
I’ve been thinking about some of our “big” traditional holidays from the past.
Like when we went to Samoa and got food poisoning. That was the trip on which my beloved hurt her leg when she stepped in a hole. Believe me, the native tongue wasn’t the only colourful language heard that day.
And what about when we went to Vanuatu and I got pneumonia. Bedridden, I was worried Mrs P would have nobody to keep her company. Thankfully our “luxury cottage” came with its very own, very large rat who seemed never to sleep so she was kept occupied the entire time.
Then there was that trip we planned to Hawke’s Bay earlier this year – yes, we did decide to give the Islands away after our previous experiences. Unfortunately, a certain cyclone put paid to that one.
Come to think of it there does seem to be a bit of a pattern of bad luck with these holidays doesn’t there?
I think maybe next time there’s a big birthday I might just stay home and curl up on the couch with a good book.