It’s Winter here.
and my mind and heart likes to imagine the wonderful warmth of the sun and the ocean
and the deep blue of a cloudless sky.
I think about escape and a place where I can relax
but I’m wondering how do you define a good holiday?
I was talking with the kids
and their response was “one that creates amazing memories”.
So wise, those kids of mine.
They sat there, in the freezing cold of the morning
and recalled all these amazing things that we had done
while we were in Tasmania.
Now, Dave and I had taken a totally different view to that break.
It was that Tasmania was lovely but not geared towards children and not one that we felt we would do again, as a family.
It was freezing and we took the five kids – a first as AJ and Mal had always spent their holiday time with their mother
on a driving holiday
in a seven seater car.
We went on The Spirit of Tasmania and stayed in an old colonial house
and drove to all the things we wanted to see.
The kids fought
David and I fought -
a seven seater car with seven people, pillows, supplies, snacks and maps
suddenly seemed like the old circus act of cramming as many clowns into a mini as possible.
You’d like a minute here to visualise that?
Yeah, squeezy, huh?
I was eleven weeks pregnant with Ivy and Noah and bleeding.
It was very stressful
but the kids,
they don’t remember any of that.
They remember waking up at sunrise on the huge ship and watching the locals moon us as we came into port.
They remember laughing so hard, they thought their insides might burst.
They remember the house and how they thought it was haunted and the enormous size and how everyone got their own room.
They remember waking up to eggs and bacon
and finding a large herd of sheep in the backyard, one morning
and how much fun it was to chase them.
They think about the day they saw their first Tasmanian devil and how Immy exclaimed,
on seeing a wombat waddling by,
that she thought wombats lived on their backs, with their legs in the air,
she had seen that much roadkill.
They talk about Port Arthur
and the fact that Mal and AJ found their way into one of the out of bounds areas
and aimed the ‘guns’ at our guide, who we had escaped from,
the huge maze, that we all got lost inside
and the the devonshire tea at the cafe, surrounded by lavender.
They remember our last day at Cradle Mountain
and how we all went searching for snow.
They don’t remember the drama or the fighting or the long drive
They remember the adventure,
they know only the good memories.
I thought about everything they had said
that I needed to change my definition of an ideal holiday
because they were right
a great holiday is one that creates amazing memories,
that and being able to spend quality time together
but I’d love to know
how would you describe a perfect holiday?
If you want to, though, you could click on the above button and vote for me.