We're back. The journey wasn't as bad as I feared, there was no vomiting, I had help from the magical calm and serene granny who arrived in Budapest as scheduled and we made it back to England without any major mishaps.
Since then there has been a feasting of sights, tastes and events. I have never seen the boys eat so much. Weetabix (I'd forgotten about Weetabix!), sausages, blueberries and Innocent Smoothies all disappearing at speeds unheard of. I've been indulging in my secret vice of really good white wines which send shivers of pleasure down my spine. The local white wine we drink in Bosnia, Krstic, is fine, really it is, but it isn't good. And if you are going to drink white wine I always think it best to make it good white wine.
We took the boys to a playground this afternoon. It was pouring with rain but that didn't dampen the spirits. The boys couldn't believe their luck - a playground without nails sticking out of the equipment, trains that ran past every couple of minutes, planes in the sky. All this excitement at once. I normally have to ration it out to keep the afternoons filled up.
As Luke swung higher and higher on the toddler swing (he hasn't been in one of those for a very long time) he was so excited.
- Mummy? (as the rain dripped off the end of his nose)
- yes darling?
- my habin a lubly time
- Me too Lukey. Me too.
Showing posts with label indirect flights. Show all posts
Showing posts with label indirect flights. Show all posts
Tuesday, 28 April 2009
Friday, 24 April 2009
R&R ??!!!
The family (well me and the boys at least) are getting ready to head back to England for a bit of a jaunt. For long, boring and now annoyingly unnecessary reasons we had to go back for the whole of May so we are leaving tomorrow, flying via Budapest and by Saturday night I shall be eating marmite toast, Thai food and sipping dark ale. Maybe all at once.
Preparation and packing are not going so well.
Status Update:
Youngest Boy, Luke: Currently being sick and with a nasty old bout of diarrhoea. Not at nursery. When not being sick is being pretty perky and wanting to play, unpacking as fast as I pack.
Eldest Boy, Adam: Quite jolly. At nursery. Will obviously get exactly the sort of sickness and diarrhoea that you do not want to get on a plane on the plane.
Packing: Not yet
Packing of day packs for the solo trip with 2 small boys to take on the plane: Now includes many changes of clothes for inevitable sickness combo that will hit at 35,000 feet.
House: Despite being cleaned top to bottom yesterday is now trashed. Again.
Washing Machine: Never knowingly quiet, it is now dancing across the room in an attempt to get rid of the pile of dirty washing before we go and to sort out the vomit covered bedding that wasn't in there when we went to bed last night.
Weather: Tuzla - has been grotty. England - has been lovely.
Weather Forecast: Tuzla - lovely, England - grotty. (Damn it - I always travel the wrong way round - once had a year of 3 winters as I didn't pay attention when I was booking the flights)
Estimated Time of Departure: Way too close
Fraught Mummy: weirdly calm. Keep thinking how much easier it is now Luke is 2 1/2 so don't need to pack things like buggy, bottles, sleeping bags, cots. Will panic shortly but feel that denial is a better state to be in right now as I can't keep up the level of panic required for the next 48 hours. Besides, I'm going to a place where there is CBeebies on TV and Mothercare. However bad my packing is, I can bounce back.
Fraught Daddy (Dave): Is 3 weeks away from sampling his first pint. Is regarding the chaos with a degree of calmness, but he isn't the one on the plane with 2 potentially vomiting children with not enough to do.
Not Very Fraught in fact rather calm and serene Granny (My Mum): A legend in her own time. Has decided that a day trip to Hungary is just the thing and is flying from Heathrow for a coffee in Budapest before meeting her fraught daughter off the flight from Sarajevo in order to accompany said daughter and the whirlwind dervishes from Budapest to London. I may lie down and weep in gratitude on the floor of Budapest airport. Calm and Serene Granny has obviously had a rush of blood to the head in coming up with this plan and is obviously quite mad, but her fraught daughter is eternally grateful.
They call the period when the expat takes a break from being foreign, R&R. I'm not totally sure what it stands for - Rest and Recuperation? Rest and Relaxation? Either way, we need it. The build up to getting some is killing me.
Preparation and packing are not going so well.
Status Update:
Youngest Boy, Luke: Currently being sick and with a nasty old bout of diarrhoea. Not at nursery. When not being sick is being pretty perky and wanting to play, unpacking as fast as I pack.
Eldest Boy, Adam: Quite jolly. At nursery. Will obviously get exactly the sort of sickness and diarrhoea that you do not want to get on a plane on the plane.
Packing: Not yet
Packing of day packs for the solo trip with 2 small boys to take on the plane: Now includes many changes of clothes for inevitable sickness combo that will hit at 35,000 feet.
House: Despite being cleaned top to bottom yesterday is now trashed. Again.
Washing Machine: Never knowingly quiet, it is now dancing across the room in an attempt to get rid of the pile of dirty washing before we go and to sort out the vomit covered bedding that wasn't in there when we went to bed last night.
Weather: Tuzla - has been grotty. England - has been lovely.
Weather Forecast: Tuzla - lovely, England - grotty. (Damn it - I always travel the wrong way round - once had a year of 3 winters as I didn't pay attention when I was booking the flights)
Estimated Time of Departure: Way too close
Fraught Mummy: weirdly calm. Keep thinking how much easier it is now Luke is 2 1/2 so don't need to pack things like buggy, bottles, sleeping bags, cots. Will panic shortly but feel that denial is a better state to be in right now as I can't keep up the level of panic required for the next 48 hours. Besides, I'm going to a place where there is CBeebies on TV and Mothercare. However bad my packing is, I can bounce back.
Fraught Daddy (Dave): Is 3 weeks away from sampling his first pint. Is regarding the chaos with a degree of calmness, but he isn't the one on the plane with 2 potentially vomiting children with not enough to do.
Not Very Fraught in fact rather calm and serene Granny (My Mum): A legend in her own time. Has decided that a day trip to Hungary is just the thing and is flying from Heathrow for a coffee in Budapest before meeting her fraught daughter off the flight from Sarajevo in order to accompany said daughter and the whirlwind dervishes from Budapest to London. I may lie down and weep in gratitude on the floor of Budapest airport. Calm and Serene Granny has obviously had a rush of blood to the head in coming up with this plan and is obviously quite mad, but her fraught daughter is eternally grateful.
They call the period when the expat takes a break from being foreign, R&R. I'm not totally sure what it stands for - Rest and Recuperation? Rest and Relaxation? Either way, we need it. The build up to getting some is killing me.
Sunday, 29 March 2009
Tuzla has an airport!
Apparently, and I'm not holding my breath because this is Bosnia and because I'm not going to get my hopes up, but apparently, Tuzla not only has an airport (which I knew) but said airport now operates international flights. Sadly, not to the UK which would be so exciting it would probably kill me, but to Frankfurt which is at least a big airport with lots of connecting flights to useful places.
Since BA stopped flying to Sarajevo in October, any flight back to England requires a transfer somewhere en route. Stopping over seems so much more alluring without children. A cup of good coffee in Budapest? Yes please! But if I do have to run the gauntlet of an airport transfer with 2 small boys full of hyperactivity having been sitting still for at least an hour and hyped up on rubbish food, the prospect of the flight is hugely improved by not having to drive 3 hours to Sarajevo before we even get onto the plane.
Since BA stopped flying to Sarajevo in October, any flight back to England requires a transfer somewhere en route. Stopping over seems so much more alluring without children. A cup of good coffee in Budapest? Yes please! But if I do have to run the gauntlet of an airport transfer with 2 small boys full of hyperactivity having been sitting still for at least an hour and hyped up on rubbish food, the prospect of the flight is hugely improved by not having to drive 3 hours to Sarajevo before we even get onto the plane.
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