You may be wondering if I’ve finally run out of things to talk about.
I’ve written about going to Greece just a couple of months ago. But you see, the moment we returned from Crete, we booked to go to Greece again.
This time to Rhodes.
And this time we were joined by my brother and his family.
This all sounds like the making of a bad sequel to a bad movie.
Day 0
My story actually started the evening before flying out.
I was in London for work and was travelling back from Euston station. I sat on the train, which was very, very quiet.
Score!
Relaxing journey home?
Except the train wasn’t moving.
I had no reception on my phone so couldn’t check what was happening. There were no announcements. Eventually, I was able to get onto the train Wi-Fi and realised the train had been cancelled for whatever reason and was just sitting there idle.
There was another train due to leave on the opposite side of the station.
In four minutes.
I grabbed my stuff and legged it.
Then, as I ran across the foyer, I pulled a quad muscle.
In front of a watching audience.
I just about made it onto the train – hopping the entire way in absolute pain. It even hurt to sit down, and when it was time to get off the train two hours later, I had to pretty much crawl to my car.
So, a great start to the holiday before the holiday had even started.
Day 1
Time to get on the flight.
I’m thankful I had my brother, his wife and their teenage kids to help with baggage and the OddKids. With Mrs OddFather knocked up, she was limited in what she could carry.
Not that it stopped her from trying.
I was convinced I was going to have to tie her down to stop her from attempting to carry more luggage than she needed.
I hadn’t realised it, but I’ve become more of a nervous flyer in my old age.
Maybe it’s because I have more to lose now – with the OddKids – so I tend to catastrophise more.
So there I sat with my eyes closed, praying to a God I don’t know if I believe in, whilst the OddKids cheered as we took off.
Taking the OddSon into a cramped toilet on a Ryanair flight – multiple times – was not the sort of experience I enjoyed.
I barely find space to move around when it’s just me, let alone when I’ve got a squirming toddler in there with me.
We eventually got to Rhodes in the night.
I already felt broken, with a sore leg and a sleeping toddler on my shoulder.
Day 2
I woke up needing a wee.
But the kids were asleep in our shared room and the bathroom door made a loud noise when opened.
So I had to sit there holding it in until they woke up.
Anyone else relate to the pain of holding in your urine?
It takes me a bit of time to adapt to a new routine on holiday.
So Day 2 was a grumpy day for me.
Day 3
On the third day, I was ready for the holiday to begin…
Until Mrs OddFather planned a trip to Rhodes Old Town.
Given the location of the resort, that meant a half-hour walk to the nearest bus stop in the searing heat.
We saw some donkeys en route.
Yep – we’re living our best life.
In fairness, we did lunch at a place that did amazing gyros.
The way to my heart is indeed through my stomach.
Day 4
The peak of the holiday.
Lots of chilling.
Lots of beer.
Lots of swimming in the pool.
Lots of volleyball.
Lots of sun.
Maybe too much sun…
Day 5
…Sunburn.
There’s a reason we’re told to apply sunscreen.
Something I didn’t really adhere to.
Being in the pool all day resulted in my shoulder, upper back, chest and arms getting completely burnt.
What didn’t help was combining that with holding the OddSon as he wriggled around.
The friction burn hurt.
And that’s putting it lightly.
My upper body was red.
Very red.
I kind of looked like the Red Power Ranger.
Only fat.
Very fat.
Day 6
The last day in Greece.
The family decided we’d all get dressed up and go for a nice meal in one of the resort restaurants.
It was going so well.
And then the OddSon shat himself.
This required me to carry him back across to the other side of the resort to our room without getting covered in shit myself.
Meal ruined.
Verdict
Phew!
I was ready to go home at the end.
These holidays are hard work.
Sure, there are lots of great memories – but I think it’s fair to say I’m in need of a break from overseas breaks.
I’m retiring from holidays for the next 1, 2, 4 years.
Well…
Until Mrs OddFather books the next one anyway.
