For the inspiration behind this blog click here.
You know that phrase “you never forget your first love”? Well, I believe that there are two different kinds of love that you never forget – the kind that is your first non-sexual love and the kind that is. The first is the one you experience at a very young age – primary school or even younger. The second comes perhaps at secondary school or at any point in life after that.
The reason I make the distinction at this point is that I have found it surprising which “type” of first love that people recall first – the non sexual, very innocent and sweet one, or the latter, which invariably people remember the break up of. Sometimes it's both, depending on how good the memory itself is.
So what about you……….
“I was in primary school, about ten or eleven years old. I arranged to meet her on a Saturday afternoon..the first time I’d had the guts to ask her out. That day, two of my pals came round looking for a game of football. I decided that footie was a better idea and got them to go down to the shops and tell her. I never tried again after that – I doubt I would have had a chance really! Still liked her though….”
White shoes
“His name was Graham and we were in primary seven! I remember I thought he was so cool and cute looking – dark hair, tall, all of that. He took me to the primary seven school disco. I remember I wore a white top and white shoes – special!
He brought me something, you know when he came round to the house with his Mum, who was driving us to he disco. It was flowers or chocolates, I can’t remember which. But I remember thinking, “oh, isn’t that nice, he’s so likes me”.
We went to the disco and had a great time. We danced the last dance and had a kiss. Well, you know, just one of those “long” straight kisses on the lips – more of a two second thing really but longer than a peck on the lips.
We went out together I think for about a month. School broke up for summer and we weren’t together when we went to the big school.”
Dance
“Oh he was a wee dreamboat at the time, the best looking of all the class. See when I’ve met him since (at least fifteen years on), he was soooo ugly. What was I thinking!
I would be ten or so I think. He was cute, with slightly big ears and could run like the wind. I was impressed by that – he as the best runner in the school sports every year and he was my boyfriend!.
We used to go behind the pump shed (a small shed in the grounds of the school that must have been used as a water pump in ancient times!) for a small pack on the cheek. Nothing more than that. It was just the “done thing”.
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
First day at school
For the inspiration behind this blog click here.
This is a tough one for me I'll admit. I have no recollection of my first day of school. I've seen a photo of me in my uniform, standing next to my brother (who was a year older than me) on what was supposedly my first day at school, but I have absolutely no memory of the day itself. I can remember other things - the classrooms, the spelling books, the teachers and some good memories of the annual water fight.
I went to primary school in Balbeggie, a small village about five miles out of Perth in Scotland. A country school, it had three classrooms when I was there, all full. Sadly I believe its down to one class and one teacher. I don't think they do the water fight at the end of the summer term any more. It might have been something to do with a pupil standing on a rusty nail in bare feet as I recall....but those were the good old days!!
(a note on the link to Balbeggie above - there is very little out there on the web about Balbeggie - this is a page in a site I found which was created by the Church of all places)
Here is a memory of a friend of mine - she has great recollection of events in her early childhood.
Primary pet
“I remember my first day at Primary school actually. I got away at twelve thirty which I thought was great. I thought that was what it would be like all the time! But no, just a week or so I think.
I had a wee brown rucksack, satchel thing – remember those? They were really soft buckle straps and faded really well. Cool bags those!.
I remember the first teacher too – her name was Miss Mckay. She was lovely. She used to get me to help her pass out the jotters and collect them in, because I could already read and write – that was my Dad’s fault! I was a quick and eager learner! I had learned to read and write when I was three and had gone to school when I was four.
Miss McKay got married when we were in Primary two. I remember we were all asking why she was being wheeled about the corridors and playground in a trolley!"
This is a tough one for me I'll admit. I have no recollection of my first day of school. I've seen a photo of me in my uniform, standing next to my brother (who was a year older than me) on what was supposedly my first day at school, but I have absolutely no memory of the day itself. I can remember other things - the classrooms, the spelling books, the teachers and some good memories of the annual water fight.
I went to primary school in Balbeggie, a small village about five miles out of Perth in Scotland. A country school, it had three classrooms when I was there, all full. Sadly I believe its down to one class and one teacher. I don't think they do the water fight at the end of the summer term any more. It might have been something to do with a pupil standing on a rusty nail in bare feet as I recall....but those were the good old days!!
(a note on the link to Balbeggie above - there is very little out there on the web about Balbeggie - this is a page in a site I found which was created by the Church of all places)
Here is a memory of a friend of mine - she has great recollection of events in her early childhood.
Primary pet
“I remember my first day at Primary school actually. I got away at twelve thirty which I thought was great. I thought that was what it would be like all the time! But no, just a week or so I think.
I had a wee brown rucksack, satchel thing – remember those? They were really soft buckle straps and faded really well. Cool bags those!.
I remember the first teacher too – her name was Miss Mckay. She was lovely. She used to get me to help her pass out the jotters and collect them in, because I could already read and write – that was my Dad’s fault! I was a quick and eager learner! I had learned to read and write when I was three and had gone to school when I was four.
Miss McKay got married when we were in Primary two. I remember we were all asking why she was being wheeled about the corridors and playground in a trolley!"
Friday, October 20, 2006
First pet and how it died - another hamster memory
For the inspiration behind this blog click here.
Another hamster related memory for you. It seems that these were popular wee pets for kids, and still are, as this memory comes from a mother and the story of her kids first hamster. Again, another memory which lit up the face of the person telling me it. A combination of remembering the event, the horror and the lesson learned. There was a little laughter too...but only a little!
Kylie
“It only happened a couple of years ago actually. I’d never had pets as a kid and it was only when I had kids of my own that I had a pet to look after.
We got the kids a hamster. Nice furry thing called Kylie. Kylie the hamster!
Kylie turned out to be pregnant. Not something we'd planned for of course. She had five babies in all. Of course the kids wanted to keep them and we felt we couldn’t really say no.
They were tiny things – all "skin" and pink. Kylie looked after them well really, making sure they were warm in their bed and giving them milk. The kids were looking after them too – making sure the bedding was clean and playing with “Mummy”.
I was doing the usual bits of housework, dusting, hoovering, tidying, you know? Anyway, I was in the kids bedroom hoovering when I noticed Kylie’s cage door was open on the floor. The kids had been cleaning her cage out earlier and couldn't have closed the door latch properly.
The babies were still in the cage and so was Kylie. But I looked again when I was picking the cage up to put it on the dresser. One was missing. I couldn’t find it anywhere. I hunted all over, picking up everything on the floor and looking underneath.
I couldn’t find it. When the kids came home we had to explain that one of the babies was missing. They were convinced it was “Jason” but who could tell – they all looked the same. It made it more personal though! It was quite sad and a bit of a mystery.
The kids were a lot more careful after that with the cage door. We still have Frank, Alice, Homer, Marge and “Mum” Kylie.
I should say that we did find Jason. Well my husband Paul did actually. Its not a nice thought and definitely not a nice way to die. He’d gone up the hoover! He was too small to even clog up the hose! We found out when we emptied the hoover bag. Paul had hoovered up a necklace one of the kids had left on the floor after playing dressing up and was fishing in the bag to get it. That’s when he saw him. It must only have been two days later. I really hope he didn’t suffer – if the shock didn’t kill him he would have lost it in amongst all the dust in the bag.
I never did tell the kids. For a while they believed he’d run away into the skirting boards and was living in the walls. The youngest got a bit scared of that though and would have dreams that he’d grow big and fat, with huge teeth that would bite her in her sleep. We had to tell her a white lie after that to stop the dreams – Jason had gone to heaven and the reason we knew that was there was a new star in the sky over our house!
Another hamster related memory for you. It seems that these were popular wee pets for kids, and still are, as this memory comes from a mother and the story of her kids first hamster. Again, another memory which lit up the face of the person telling me it. A combination of remembering the event, the horror and the lesson learned. There was a little laughter too...but only a little!
Kylie
“It only happened a couple of years ago actually. I’d never had pets as a kid and it was only when I had kids of my own that I had a pet to look after.
We got the kids a hamster. Nice furry thing called Kylie. Kylie the hamster!
Kylie turned out to be pregnant. Not something we'd planned for of course. She had five babies in all. Of course the kids wanted to keep them and we felt we couldn’t really say no.
They were tiny things – all "skin" and pink. Kylie looked after them well really, making sure they were warm in their bed and giving them milk. The kids were looking after them too – making sure the bedding was clean and playing with “Mummy”.
I was doing the usual bits of housework, dusting, hoovering, tidying, you know? Anyway, I was in the kids bedroom hoovering when I noticed Kylie’s cage door was open on the floor. The kids had been cleaning her cage out earlier and couldn't have closed the door latch properly.
The babies were still in the cage and so was Kylie. But I looked again when I was picking the cage up to put it on the dresser. One was missing. I couldn’t find it anywhere. I hunted all over, picking up everything on the floor and looking underneath.
I couldn’t find it. When the kids came home we had to explain that one of the babies was missing. They were convinced it was “Jason” but who could tell – they all looked the same. It made it more personal though! It was quite sad and a bit of a mystery.
The kids were a lot more careful after that with the cage door. We still have Frank, Alice, Homer, Marge and “Mum” Kylie.
I should say that we did find Jason. Well my husband Paul did actually. Its not a nice thought and definitely not a nice way to die. He’d gone up the hoover! He was too small to even clog up the hose! We found out when we emptied the hoover bag. Paul had hoovered up a necklace one of the kids had left on the floor after playing dressing up and was fishing in the bag to get it. That’s when he saw him. It must only have been two days later. I really hope he didn’t suffer – if the shock didn’t kill him he would have lost it in amongst all the dust in the bag.
I never did tell the kids. For a while they believed he’d run away into the skirting boards and was living in the walls. The youngest got a bit scared of that though and would have dreams that he’d grow big and fat, with huge teeth that would bite her in her sleep. We had to tell her a white lie after that to stop the dreams – Jason had gone to heaven and the reason we knew that was there was a new star in the sky over our house!
First time you found out the truth about Santa Claus - another first memory
For the inspiration behind this blog click here.
For more Santa related memories, click here
Tick tock
Well, its the weekend again at last. Its been a busy week all round but I did get to hear another first memory of Santa Claus and how a younf child tricked his parents into finding out the truth. The lengths we go to...
“Someone must have told me at some point but I wasn’t quite ready to believe it. I remember I wrote to Santa asking for a wind up alarm clock. I know, I know, not the best present in the world for a child, I don’t know what I was thinking. But anyway, I then said to Mum that I’d asked Santa for an electric alarm clock. I was deliberately laying a trap and I don’t deny it. I just wanted to prove it, that Santa wasn't real. But, at the same time I didn't want to. It was so frustrating, as if my world was going to collapse if I found out he wasn't real. Part of you never wants to stop believing (I sound like an advert for Peter Pan!).
Of course, the electric clock was what I got in the end. It was weird, I was chuffed I’d proved Santa wasn’t real by my own experiment but at the same time it was a bad Christmas, because I’d proved it. That was it. Finished. Game over. No more Santa Claus.
In the end I told my sister what I’d done and she told my parents. I suppose it was ok for them – it meant they didn’t have the pretence again next year.”
For more Santa related memories, click here
Tick tock
Well, its the weekend again at last. Its been a busy week all round but I did get to hear another first memory of Santa Claus and how a younf child tricked his parents into finding out the truth. The lengths we go to...
“Someone must have told me at some point but I wasn’t quite ready to believe it. I remember I wrote to Santa asking for a wind up alarm clock. I know, I know, not the best present in the world for a child, I don’t know what I was thinking. But anyway, I then said to Mum that I’d asked Santa for an electric alarm clock. I was deliberately laying a trap and I don’t deny it. I just wanted to prove it, that Santa wasn't real. But, at the same time I didn't want to. It was so frustrating, as if my world was going to collapse if I found out he wasn't real. Part of you never wants to stop believing (I sound like an advert for Peter Pan!).
Of course, the electric clock was what I got in the end. It was weird, I was chuffed I’d proved Santa wasn’t real by my own experiment but at the same time it was a bad Christmas, because I’d proved it. That was it. Finished. Game over. No more Santa Claus.
In the end I told my sister what I’d done and she told my parents. I suppose it was ok for them – it meant they didn’t have the pretence again next year.”
Monday, October 16, 2006
First time you were told about the birds and the bees
For the inspiration behind this blog click here.
So Madonna is adopting a baby. Its all over the news and of course everyone has an opinion. Mine? Well personally I can see both sides of the argument, but lean slightly to Madonna's side. She's giving baby David a chance in life and his father has publically stated he thinks this is the best chance for his son, given the poverty in his own country. I understand the arguments the charities have put forward too. Yes, if poverty is part of the child's culture, perhaps the money would be better spent in another way. I'd like to think though that the child's best interests have been considered and I'm sure Madonna will ensure David is well informed about his roots at an appropriate age. Its a hot topic which I'm sure will rage on as long as the press want it to.
So its a tenuous link to my next memory. The "birds and the bees". Anyone remember how they found out about that whole mystery...?
I have to admit I have no recollection of when I was told, who told me or where I was at the time. I like to think I've blocked it out because it was either so scary for me to have heard or that I was just so at ease with it all it wasn't worth remembering.
Is it even called "the birds and the bees" any more? What about "the facts of life" - that sounds worse, not just old fashioned but more scientific. Hell, there are more "facts of life" these days than sex, just ask Professor Stephen Hawking.
I think these memories will be different depending on if you're male or female. Is the expectation that girls find out before boys because they get periods, or do the boys find out first because they are more nosey and chat more about that kind of thing in school? There's probably an element of school ground gossip to it all anyway.
I think this is one memory where the experience will have changed over the generations don’t you? I shiver at the age young kids are being taught about sex these days.
The machine
“I was ten years old. I remember I was on a skiing trip with my parents and sisters. I had gone to the toilets with my Mum and was waiting for her at the sinks when she came out of the cubicle. I asked her there and then:
“Mum what’s a Durex machine for?” (she pronounced it "Durr" like it rhymed with "fur").
“It's pronounced Durex and we’ll talk about it later” (the emphasis on "Dur" like it rhymed with "pure").
Later that night I asked again. She couldn’t really get out of it. She explained to me about the birds and the bees and about contraceptives – she is a nurse and so you’d expect a high standard!. All I remember thinking was why anyone would want to blow up a balloon and fit it on their “bits”!
TV teacher
“It was a taboo thing in my house. I must have been thirteen or fourteen years old when something about sex came on the TV or was being discussed on TV. My Mum had come into the room and said “did you get taught this at school? Do you want me to buy you a book or something?” I think she was quite embarrassed. Maybe I should have asked what the “or something” was, but I never, I just said that yes, I had been taught about it at school and not to worry.”
So Madonna is adopting a baby. Its all over the news and of course everyone has an opinion. Mine? Well personally I can see both sides of the argument, but lean slightly to Madonna's side. She's giving baby David a chance in life and his father has publically stated he thinks this is the best chance for his son, given the poverty in his own country. I understand the arguments the charities have put forward too. Yes, if poverty is part of the child's culture, perhaps the money would be better spent in another way. I'd like to think though that the child's best interests have been considered and I'm sure Madonna will ensure David is well informed about his roots at an appropriate age. Its a hot topic which I'm sure will rage on as long as the press want it to.
So its a tenuous link to my next memory. The "birds and the bees". Anyone remember how they found out about that whole mystery...?
I have to admit I have no recollection of when I was told, who told me or where I was at the time. I like to think I've blocked it out because it was either so scary for me to have heard or that I was just so at ease with it all it wasn't worth remembering.
Is it even called "the birds and the bees" any more? What about "the facts of life" - that sounds worse, not just old fashioned but more scientific. Hell, there are more "facts of life" these days than sex, just ask Professor Stephen Hawking.
I think these memories will be different depending on if you're male or female. Is the expectation that girls find out before boys because they get periods, or do the boys find out first because they are more nosey and chat more about that kind of thing in school? There's probably an element of school ground gossip to it all anyway.
I think this is one memory where the experience will have changed over the generations don’t you? I shiver at the age young kids are being taught about sex these days.
The machine
“I was ten years old. I remember I was on a skiing trip with my parents and sisters. I had gone to the toilets with my Mum and was waiting for her at the sinks when she came out of the cubicle. I asked her there and then:
“Mum what’s a Durex machine for?” (she pronounced it "Durr" like it rhymed with "fur").
“It's pronounced Durex and we’ll talk about it later” (the emphasis on "Dur" like it rhymed with "pure").
Later that night I asked again. She couldn’t really get out of it. She explained to me about the birds and the bees and about contraceptives – she is a nurse and so you’d expect a high standard!. All I remember thinking was why anyone would want to blow up a balloon and fit it on their “bits”!
TV teacher
“It was a taboo thing in my house. I must have been thirteen or fourteen years old when something about sex came on the TV or was being discussed on TV. My Mum had come into the room and said “did you get taught this at school? Do you want me to buy you a book or something?” I think she was quite embarrassed. Maybe I should have asked what the “or something” was, but I never, I just said that yes, I had been taught about it at school and not to worry.”
Saturday, October 14, 2006
First time on an aeroplane
For the inspiration behind this blog click here.
My local radio station Forth One (97.3 FM) were discussing aeroplanes the other day. Just the presenters chatting about plane trips and who gets the window seat when you go on holiday. That made me smile. David always takes the window seat when we go on holiday. I've gotten so used to being the one that sits in the middle of a row - stranger on one side, David on the other - that its become second nature now. We even swap tickets if I've been allocated the window seat.
Remember the film "The Wedding Singer"? . Its now a broadway musical by the way. Anyway, there's a scene on the plane where Robbie Hart (Adam Sandler) says he would give up the window seat for Julia (Drew Barrymore), unlike her horrible boyfriend. Well David has given up the window seat for me twice in the last 10 years - unfortunately it was either dark or cloudy so there wasn't much to see anyway. Nice gesture though.
Do you remember the first time you were on an aeroplane? It seems to me that children under three years old are a much more common sight on planes that they used to be. We must have more disposable income and flights have become cheaper since I was a child.
I was really excited about going on a plane for the first time. I think I was about 10 or so. My parents were taking us abroad for the first time on holiday. When we got to the check-in the woman must have been asking about the seat allocation – you know how there is only 3 on each side of the plane? I must have been allocated the seat across the aisle from the rest of my family because I was put in that seat when we boarded. Fair enough, their decision.
Not having been on a plane before and coupled with the excitement I think, my tummy was doing somersaults. I remember was looking over the aisle at my Dad shortly after take off, feeling green, let alone looking green. Then I turned (for what reason I really couldn’t say) to the old lady who was sitting next to me and threw up all over her!
My Mum gave me such a row. I was mortified anyway about what I’d done. I knew I would get a telling off in public too whicch didn't help. When she took me to the toilet to clean me up I got a smack on the bottom too! I remember protesting that I just couldn’t help it, that I had nowhere to go, it just happened so fast. Fell on deaf ears though - I think she was more embarrassed that anything else.
Tell me about your first memory of being on an aeroplane. How excited were you? Where were you going? Were you sick?
My local radio station Forth One (97.3 FM) were discussing aeroplanes the other day. Just the presenters chatting about plane trips and who gets the window seat when you go on holiday. That made me smile. David always takes the window seat when we go on holiday. I've gotten so used to being the one that sits in the middle of a row - stranger on one side, David on the other - that its become second nature now. We even swap tickets if I've been allocated the window seat.
Remember the film "The Wedding Singer"? . Its now a broadway musical by the way. Anyway, there's a scene on the plane where Robbie Hart (Adam Sandler) says he would give up the window seat for Julia (Drew Barrymore), unlike her horrible boyfriend. Well David has given up the window seat for me twice in the last 10 years - unfortunately it was either dark or cloudy so there wasn't much to see anyway. Nice gesture though.
Do you remember the first time you were on an aeroplane? It seems to me that children under three years old are a much more common sight on planes that they used to be. We must have more disposable income and flights have become cheaper since I was a child.
I was really excited about going on a plane for the first time. I think I was about 10 or so. My parents were taking us abroad for the first time on holiday. When we got to the check-in the woman must have been asking about the seat allocation – you know how there is only 3 on each side of the plane? I must have been allocated the seat across the aisle from the rest of my family because I was put in that seat when we boarded. Fair enough, their decision.
Not having been on a plane before and coupled with the excitement I think, my tummy was doing somersaults. I remember was looking over the aisle at my Dad shortly after take off, feeling green, let alone looking green. Then I turned (for what reason I really couldn’t say) to the old lady who was sitting next to me and threw up all over her!
My Mum gave me such a row. I was mortified anyway about what I’d done. I knew I would get a telling off in public too whicch didn't help. When she took me to the toilet to clean me up I got a smack on the bottom too! I remember protesting that I just couldn’t help it, that I had nowhere to go, it just happened so fast. Fell on deaf ears though - I think she was more embarrassed that anything else.
Tell me about your first memory of being on an aeroplane. How excited were you? Where were you going? Were you sick?
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
First time you found out Santa wasn't real - part 2
For the inspiration behind this blog click here.
For more Santa related memories, click here
Do you know its now only 11 weeks to Christmas! Not long until the shops have their Christmas lights and decorations up and Coke will bring out their seasonal Santa advert. Just let us get past Guy Fawkes night first please!
I heard some more fond memories of our cuddly friend Santa Claus the other day. Gone on, share with us your first memory of finding out Santa wasn't really real. I'd certainly love to hear some more stories.
Carrot stealer
“That’s easy…my brother gave it away. I don’t remember how old I was or what he said, but I remember that I didn’t believe him! That Christmas I waited and waited, pretending to be asleep and then I heard Santa coming up the stairs. You know, I was so excited I can't describe it really, but my heart must of been practically jumping out of my chest because I remember I was breathing really fast. I was probably on the verge of a panic attic, after all this was the first time I was going to see Santa (or at least that's what I thought).
I crept out into the hall and here was Dad eating the carrot I’d left out for the reindeer!
I said “what are you doing, that’s for Rudolph!"
He said he’d woken up hungry and that Santa would forgive him for eating Rudolph's carrot if he went to the kitchen and got another. I must have given him a fright when I think about it.
Anyway, I had my suspicions, but still didn’t want to believe it. I think it finally sunk in after I went back to school and we talked about what Santa had given us for Christmas. Some of the children knew already so it was probably peer pressure to finally admit he wasn't real.”
He lives on…
“I’m “thirty something” now and Santa still sends my brothers and I presents. Every year we get a letter from Santa asking if we’d been good and could we please provide a list of potential gifts for him to pick from. The list helps him, he says in his letter, because his elves have had a hard year and his memory is getting poorer. It doesn’t help I suppose that Mrs Claus is no longer with us.
It’s a funny quirky traditional we have kept up for years. Santa has moved with the times and now that he has retired from being a GP and left much of the work to the elves and other helpers, he has learned how to use computers and the internet. Our letter from Santa now comes via email! Dad’s great isn’t he! It means I get something from Santa that is useful and is guaranteed to be something I actually want – a sure fire bet for CD’s, books and perfume! “
For more Santa related memories, click here
Do you know its now only 11 weeks to Christmas! Not long until the shops have their Christmas lights and decorations up and Coke will bring out their seasonal Santa advert. Just let us get past Guy Fawkes night first please!
I heard some more fond memories of our cuddly friend Santa Claus the other day. Gone on, share with us your first memory of finding out Santa wasn't really real. I'd certainly love to hear some more stories.
Carrot stealer
“That’s easy…my brother gave it away. I don’t remember how old I was or what he said, but I remember that I didn’t believe him! That Christmas I waited and waited, pretending to be asleep and then I heard Santa coming up the stairs. You know, I was so excited I can't describe it really, but my heart must of been practically jumping out of my chest because I remember I was breathing really fast. I was probably on the verge of a panic attic, after all this was the first time I was going to see Santa (or at least that's what I thought).
I crept out into the hall and here was Dad eating the carrot I’d left out for the reindeer!
I said “what are you doing, that’s for Rudolph!"
He said he’d woken up hungry and that Santa would forgive him for eating Rudolph's carrot if he went to the kitchen and got another. I must have given him a fright when I think about it.
Anyway, I had my suspicions, but still didn’t want to believe it. I think it finally sunk in after I went back to school and we talked about what Santa had given us for Christmas. Some of the children knew already so it was probably peer pressure to finally admit he wasn't real.”
He lives on…
“I’m “thirty something” now and Santa still sends my brothers and I presents. Every year we get a letter from Santa asking if we’d been good and could we please provide a list of potential gifts for him to pick from. The list helps him, he says in his letter, because his elves have had a hard year and his memory is getting poorer. It doesn’t help I suppose that Mrs Claus is no longer with us.
It’s a funny quirky traditional we have kept up for years. Santa has moved with the times and now that he has retired from being a GP and left much of the work to the elves and other helpers, he has learned how to use computers and the internet. Our letter from Santa now comes via email! Dad’s great isn’t he! It means I get something from Santa that is useful and is guaranteed to be something I actually want – a sure fire bet for CD’s, books and perfume! “
Saturday, October 07, 2006
First time you went on holiday without your parents
For the inspiration behind this blog click here.
Just back from a week in sunny Barcelona with David. We had a great time. Just wandered around looking at the sites, drinking beers on the street pavements and watching the world go by. It was our 10th wedding anniversary last week so we thought we'd mark this one with an occasion. We even ordered champagne with our meal - a first for us! We've only ever had champagne when someone has given it to us as a gift or a thank-you or has been bought by our parents. Does this mean we've grown up!
Do you remember the first time you went on holiday without your parents? Things never seemed to go wrong when your parents were around to direct you to the right check-in desk and the gate. You always got to the hotel without a hitch and back to the airport in plenty time to catch your flight. Simple. So does the fact you are the one responsible for all of that necessarily mean something will go wrong.....
Take me to "what's it called?"
"I had booked a holiday to Austria for myself and my boyfriend on the internet. Booking separate flights and hotel was much cheaper than going through a brochure. I suppose the only slag is all the bits of paper you then need to print out and keep. I'm still never sure which bits of paper I'll be asked for if referencing something booked over the web, and so I tend to take everything.
We'd arrived at the airport in Austria and headed to the taxi rank. I looked over at Andrew and asked what the name of the hotel was and the street name. "I don't know" he said, "you've got the details". Of course I did, I always take charge of that kind of thing. I opened the hand luggage but oh God, I couldn't find it. No idea where it was. I searched every pocket in the bags and turned up nothing. We didn't even remember the name of the hotel for sure, let alone any reference number! "Shit, what are we going to do?"
Fortunately I had a flash of inspiration. As it was the afternoon, and only a one hour time difference to the UK, we'd call Andrew's Mum. She is one of those internet savvy Mum's. Thank goodness. Not many of my friends parents go near a computer - its all a bit foreign and scary and are quite happy getting on with their lives when the the rest of the world links up over something called "www".
So we rang her, asked her to go onto such and such a website. We were even able to describe the search and the bitmap picture of the hotel. Then we had to hang up and give her twenty minutes before calling back. Meanwhile we had a nailbiting wait over a beer.
I kept thinking we'd end up having to book another hotel and lose the money on the first one - an expensive option I admit, but on the bright side, I kept saying to myself, we'd have a hotel room at least. We wouldn't have to go homeless or get a flight home. That was how I kept putting it over to Andrew, who was still in utter disbelief and kept mumbling, "I can't believe this is happening" . Is this something all men are programmed to say in these types of situations? Those rare times when they feel helpless in a situation that was caused by a women. They just don't go into practical mode like us women do they?
But thank goodness Andrew's Mum found the details on the web. We had the name of the hotel at least. So we got a taxi there, a bit frazzled, and they let us check in, even without the reference number. What a nice bunch in that hotel.
Inevitably I did find the paperwork after we got back - not in the house as you might have thought, but in the suitcase front pocket! We had it all along, that whole time! Why I had put it there when the case was in the hold of the plane and could have been stolen, I don't know. All I can say in my defence is that it must have felt sensible at the time!
I learned something from that trip and others since. I think my memory is getting worse as I get older, so I now try to stop myself packing for a holiday a week before we go - it's hard I admit, but it means I have less time to pack the important things like money, cards and passports in "safe" places for too long that my memory fails me when I try to remember where they are."
Just back from a week in sunny Barcelona with David. We had a great time. Just wandered around looking at the sites, drinking beers on the street pavements and watching the world go by. It was our 10th wedding anniversary last week so we thought we'd mark this one with an occasion. We even ordered champagne with our meal - a first for us! We've only ever had champagne when someone has given it to us as a gift or a thank-you or has been bought by our parents. Does this mean we've grown up!
Do you remember the first time you went on holiday without your parents? Things never seemed to go wrong when your parents were around to direct you to the right check-in desk and the gate. You always got to the hotel without a hitch and back to the airport in plenty time to catch your flight. Simple. So does the fact you are the one responsible for all of that necessarily mean something will go wrong.....
Take me to "what's it called?"
"I had booked a holiday to Austria for myself and my boyfriend on the internet. Booking separate flights and hotel was much cheaper than going through a brochure. I suppose the only slag is all the bits of paper you then need to print out and keep. I'm still never sure which bits of paper I'll be asked for if referencing something booked over the web, and so I tend to take everything.
We'd arrived at the airport in Austria and headed to the taxi rank. I looked over at Andrew and asked what the name of the hotel was and the street name. "I don't know" he said, "you've got the details". Of course I did, I always take charge of that kind of thing. I opened the hand luggage but oh God, I couldn't find it. No idea where it was. I searched every pocket in the bags and turned up nothing. We didn't even remember the name of the hotel for sure, let alone any reference number! "Shit, what are we going to do?"
Fortunately I had a flash of inspiration. As it was the afternoon, and only a one hour time difference to the UK, we'd call Andrew's Mum. She is one of those internet savvy Mum's. Thank goodness. Not many of my friends parents go near a computer - its all a bit foreign and scary and are quite happy getting on with their lives when the the rest of the world links up over something called "www".
So we rang her, asked her to go onto such and such a website. We were even able to describe the search and the bitmap picture of the hotel. Then we had to hang up and give her twenty minutes before calling back. Meanwhile we had a nailbiting wait over a beer.
I kept thinking we'd end up having to book another hotel and lose the money on the first one - an expensive option I admit, but on the bright side, I kept saying to myself, we'd have a hotel room at least. We wouldn't have to go homeless or get a flight home. That was how I kept putting it over to Andrew, who was still in utter disbelief and kept mumbling, "I can't believe this is happening" . Is this something all men are programmed to say in these types of situations? Those rare times when they feel helpless in a situation that was caused by a women. They just don't go into practical mode like us women do they?
But thank goodness Andrew's Mum found the details on the web. We had the name of the hotel at least. So we got a taxi there, a bit frazzled, and they let us check in, even without the reference number. What a nice bunch in that hotel.
Inevitably I did find the paperwork after we got back - not in the house as you might have thought, but in the suitcase front pocket! We had it all along, that whole time! Why I had put it there when the case was in the hold of the plane and could have been stolen, I don't know. All I can say in my defence is that it must have felt sensible at the time!
I learned something from that trip and others since. I think my memory is getting worse as I get older, so I now try to stop myself packing for a holiday a week before we go - it's hard I admit, but it means I have less time to pack the important things like money, cards and passports in "safe" places for too long that my memory fails me when I try to remember where they are."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
