Negative Soundbyters - a muggy, but balmy, Spring evening to you all. This comes to you later than usual because on exiting the swamp yesterday, we went out down to the local drinking hole for team drinks. These days Imbibing alcohol on a school night, especially a Tuesday, is now more often-than-not detrimental to productivity the following day - and my general state of mind. Now throw a few Sambuca shots into that equation and and the swamp becomes a very daunting prospect. Add a soon-to-be-ten month old tearing around the new extension opening all-and-sundry with the express purpose of swallowing the bleach or stabbing himself with the fire poker and then a blog post to cap off the evening, and that makes for a rather looooooooong day. At the moment I have a large two litre bottle of water to my right to dilute those Sambucas sitting behind each eyeball and a half eaten flake that is…well…adding no value in a hangover context…but tastes good nonetheless!
This past weekend was an absolute corker as Mrs H, Rafe and I made our merry way to Spain to celebrate a close friend’s wedding. As ever the merriness was short-lived when we landed and couldn't find the hire car company. We trekked all over Barcelona Terminal 2A,B and C but to no avail. Mrs H was becoming mildly frustrated and did pose the perfectly sensible question to me on a few occasions as to whether this particular company actually had a presence at the airport itself. Naturally I answered in the affirmative, because, well…that’s what Rental cars.Com had said…and Mrs H was in no mood to hear that I hadn’t done a detailed check in this regard. Rafe played it cool; he was in Spain after all.
I called the car hire company. Mrs H had to take over the call; either my South African accent was too strong or the operator’s English wasn't too strong because there was no meeting of the minds re the location of the car hire company. Eventually Mrs H established that we were at the wrong terminal - Head to Terminal 1 by bus - and then look out for an “OK Cars” minivan that will transport you to the depot in an industrial estate about a 10 minute drive from the airport. Mrs H wasn't best pleased; I maintained a low profile and Rafe just flashed his two new teeth at us. “Chill Señorita - we are in Spain…”
I finally got behind the wheel of the hire car about 90 minutes after first exiting Terminal 2C and drove the family to our little apartment just outside Begur. Mrs H was a superb navigator and Rafe, well, he had a snooze in the back. May as well catch some zeds!
The wedding was a magical affair set against a backdrop of forested hills, historic towns and elegant Spanish villas. We wish Paul and Julie every happiness and we look forward to making memories together in the years ahead!
Big Love
Hoddy X (and Mrs H and Rafe)
Planes.
Babies add a new dimension to air travel, especially those that are increasingly aware of their surroundings, especially if they are unfamiliar. Rafe is no exception to this. There is also an exponential increase in the amount of stuff that accompanies you onboard. As the sherpa I was responsible for ALL baggage (both hold and hand) which included making sure that the buggy was folded away appropriately and handed over to be deposited in the hold.
We had an isle and middle seat; the window was occupied by an English business man who as it turned out lived in Barcelona. I could tell that he was ecstatic to see the three of us (the tight, forced smile gave it away); especially the small blonde person with the dribbles. He wedged himself further against the window and hauled out a sandwich and a soft drink to distract himself from what he perceived to be a very long two hour flight ahead!
Rafe also became distracted by the sandwich and soft drink because no sooner had we sat down, than a go-go gadget arm reached out from the depths of the middle seat and snatched at the soft drink container. Mrs H managed a lightening quick interception otherwise Mr Business Man could have had very sticky trousers. Mr Business Man’s smile got even thinner to the extent that his lips almost disappeared. Rafe chortled away; he was just getting started.
We tried to entice Rafe with food of his own. Mrs H asked me to hand her the portable cooler box that she had made up which contained Rafe’s dinner and an assortment of fruits and his milk bottle for dessert. At that moment it would have been good if time had stopped indefinitely. I couldn’t recall what I had done with it. Now bearing in mind that this was my sole responsibility, perspiration quickly began forming on my brow.
“Er…love…I am not sure….” I said. It’s likely that if Mrs H had had the opportunity to eject me from the aircraft before it had touched down on terra firma, she would probably have taken her chance. Through gritted teeth and a multitude of fiery barbed arrows bearing down on me from her blazing eyes, she said…”*What did you do with it?” “Um…when I folded up the pushchair (it was hanging off it) I must have left it on the ground in the terminal…”
Let’s just say that that landed like me hitting the earth at terminal velocity i.e. badly! Mrs H turned to Rafe and explained that New Dad had left his dinner in the North Terminal. He didn't seem too phased however; we resorted to miniature cheese crackers for children which he gobbled down in minutes.
Mr Business Man thought this an opportune time to get his newspaper out. Little did he know that Rafe is learning to multi-task. Not only is it possible to suck on a cracker but it is also possible to grab the back page of a newspaper, tear off a section and insert it alongside a soggy cheese biscuit!
Babies on a plane - worse than Snakes!
OUT :)
Pic of the Week
The pic says it all!
