Home Sweet Home.

After arriving home and then working three days on the trot, I'm somewhat disheartened. What was so recently paradise is suddenly a distant memory. I hate how quickly life gets back to normal. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy to be home; two weeks is ample. I couldn't wait to return to British puds, getting to wear something other than sandals and dare I say it, a drop of rain. But now I'm missing not knowing/caring what day of the week it is, the satanic combination of oil and sand and the incessant whirring of the air con at night. I couldn't sleep for the silence my first night back. I want to have my cake AND eat it. Please.

Not everything was perfect, we got off to a dodgy start - we were given a twin room (granted they were almost double beds). We then moved into a king-size sea view room - much better. I then proceeded to lock all of our valuables in the room safe without setting a new code. Another call to reception. To add insult to injury, I lost a valuable day in the sun due to playing nurse to sick Thomas. Who, once better, decided he was desperate for a haircut, despite having one just before leaving England. I rarely have to leave others company because of a severe case of the giggles but this called for it. 'Gel' he said. Thomas politely declined. 'Gel' he repeated. Thomas declined with a bit more gumption. 'GEL' he commanded. Thomas reluctantly stuck out his hand. In all fairness, considering I think he's used to braiding girls hair it wasn't all that bad.

As it was the only 2 weeks of the year I tan, I was in it for the long haul. If you think working 9-5 in an office is hard work, try 9-5 in Hawaiian Tropic at 40-45'c. And if you are going to put yourself through that, you are expecting the most beautifully mahogany body as a result. At first I settled for two little white half moons up top, and then I saw the Slovakians. Their entire clan willingly lay there topless AND in a thong (in a predominantly Muslim country). Off came my top, although with a little more demure - I hope.

Some of the less obvious advantages of being on holiday;
You actually opt for a stone cold shower by choice, as opposed to starting WW3 over who used the last of the hot water.
You don't mind a little exercise, 2 hours snorkelling flies by much quicker than 2 hours swimming lengths.
You get up at 9am every morning for a decent spec by the pool, yet you struggle to think of such an incentive that would work back home.
You have read your books by day 2, but in England you would only just be finishing the first chapter by now.

FYI. The 2 pounds I lost the week I left, I gained at breakfast on the first day. Anyone who knows me knows pastry is my vice. Pancakes, syrup and lots of delicious pastries - the ones containing creme patissiere would be my favourite - this was my breakfast for 14 days.

I'm over the 'this time yesterday' phase, currently in the 'this time last week' phase and have yet to reach the 'this time last month' phase. It's depressing. It'd be rude not to share a holiday snap, so here I am on our way to a diving spot. Weep.



I'll try to do a decent post soon, holiday rant over.