For a change, it isn’t shoes or a 50’s prom dress I’m lusting over this week. Actually that’s a filthy lie. I’m always lusting after shoes and 50’s prom dresses. I’m lusting after them the same amount I usually am, but I’m also lusting after something else – a holiday. I need a holiday so much, I might even consider swapping all my current shoes and 50’s prom dresses for them, and that is saying something.
I was a little late to the party when it comes to foreign holidays. Growing up with Grandparents in a British seaside town meant we spent pretty much all of our school breaks with them. I loved those breaks, but it wasn’t until the grand old age of 18, when first boarded a plane and jetted off on a celebratory trip to Greece upon finishing my A-Levels, that I realised you couldn’t call them holidays. Ever since that first time I stepped off the plane onto sun-baked tarmac and felt that warm blast of sea air on my face I’ve known that a holiday isn’t a true holiday unless it involves sun cream, a beach and gaudy cocktails with fruit and umbrellas in. I haven’t been on a holiday in a very long time, and I’m really starting to feel like I need one. I’ve been on plenty of trips – mini breaks in Wales, girly getaways in Paris, hen weekends in Portugal – but none of them count as holidays, because there was not sun cream, a beach and gaudy cocktails. Ok, there was a beach in Wales. And there were cocktails on all of them come to think of it. But you get the picture….
Basically I’d like to be far, far away, where my phone no longer works, and I don’t have to do anything if I don’t want to, for a whole two weeks. Somewhere where I won’t hear my name called out every 10 seconds and I don’t have to get on a bus twice a day. And if I could come back with a perfect tan, looking freaking amazing that would be a nice bonus too.