some thoughts on holidays and homecomings
At this point in life I find holidays abroad to be somewhat curious creatures. I’ll spend weeks, months or an entire year yearning for one. Only to discover that when I get there, it doesn’t take me more than two or three days before I start to anticipate coming home again.
I know I know. This coming from the woman who’s always declaring her undying love for the next season rather than the one she’s currently in – not really all that surprising is it? Repeat after me… Journey more important than destination etc. etc.
The whole anticipation versus reality thing was something I gave a lot of thought to on our trip to Majorca this summer. Alongside the age old assumptions that we all make upon viewing each other’s Instagram vacation snaps of course.
“Ooh look at that crystal blue sky, those palm trees, that sparkling sea – that place just has to be perfect. Nothing but good things can ever happen in a place like that. We need to go there… now!” Pair that with the odd smattering of hashtag #Blessed and a pert, suntanned bottom in a thong bikini with just the right amount of sand dusted artfully across it’s cheeks and we all want to jump on a plane.
Actually I want to jump off a cliff if I see one more bottom pop up in my Instagram feed. Yes it is a
thong thing of beauty but I don’t want to gaze upon it as I’m drinking my morning coffee with one eye barely open. I’ve been doing a lot of unfollowing due to suntanned bottoms this summer let me tell you. I need more than that to feel inspired.
Anyhoo, all the talk of peachy cheeks has lead me to digress…
Why do we (more specifically I), want to go on holiday only to find myself missing home after really not much time at all?
Because it’s away from all the complicated goings on of daily life. And because it takes you out of routine and out of yourself. That was specifically what we were aiming for on this holiday. Nothing to do but the back to basics existence that comes with a Fly + Flop holiday. (Thank you to the savvy Instagram friend who left that comment on one of my images – sums it up perfectly I think!).
All we did was eat, swim, hydrate, dehydrate with the local wine & Cava, go the supermarket, talk, read, lie prone in the shade and play the occasional game of Uno. Yes we did pick up our phones, snap a few pics and scroll now and again but with no agenda and no judgement of one another either.
Note I left out sleep from my list. I didn’t sleep well whilst we were away – even my naps were completely unsuccessful most of the time. Somewhat frustrating for one who’s learnt to LOVE a nap!
I missed the dog like crazy from about Day Two and by Day Six I was on bread and water after my tummy decreed there be NO MORE SPANISH FOOD in a somewhat dramatic fashion.
There were mosquito bites, burned soles of feet, sweat dripping in rivers down your back if you so much as looked at anything else other than a kaftan and hair, that by the end of the week, was in severe danger of snapping off from all the salt water and sun exposure.
But… and there’s always a but. No… not that ↑ kind…
There were meals (every meal) eaten outside. There was laughter and the kind of conversation that only ever seems to happen when you go away as a family, somewhere completely different. There were far more insights into the mind of a thirteen year old girl out in Majorca than we’re ever granted at home. Useful.
There were sheep with bells on that started their mountainous journey every morning and returned home again every night just as the sun was setting in a purply pink haze. There was the bizarre callings of the four turkeys who lived across the field from the villa… that prompted the infamous Thanksgiving “Gobble Gobble” line from Planes, Trains & Automobiles from me or Mr OS. Every Time!
There was time to think. About whatever crept into my mind. Time to give some headspace to numerous thoughts, notions and ideas that I previously hadn’t even had time to acknowledge.
There were palm trees. And a pool that served as the only successful method of lowering a soaring body temperature whenever required. Oh and the villa. Mr OS did us proud when he found this one – I mean he always finds the good ones but Brisa de Mar just outside of Pollença was an utter gem. Here’s a link to the property and rental company for those that asked me about it on Instagram. I’d recommend it to anyone looking for a peaceful holiday just outside of town.
I read a book. A whole, big fat chick lit novel (the latest by Marian Keyes – The Break)… and it was glorious!
And there was one of my most favourite parts of all. The anticipation of another homecoming.
Holidays make me happy but homecomings are where the heart is… and you can’t have one without the other…