TheMads go Mad at Butlins

As I was going to be at TheMads we decided to make it a family break and take the children to Butlins, now I have never ever been to Butlins and the last time MadDad went was over 35 years ago, so I think we had preconceived ideas.

We stayed in the Shorline hotel and I have to say I was super impressed with the size and layout of the rooms.  The boys room area had junior bunkbeds and a TV and DVD player, which showed children's TV channels.  The room had a big fridge and also tea and coffee making facilities.  It was perfect.  The only issue we had was that our package didn't include breakfast and that would have been £30 for the four of us in the hotel, but that didn't put us off, we took advantage of the large fridge and had cereal and milk!

The first thing the boys wanted to experience was the pool and experience it we did!  In our two days at Butlins we spent more time in the pool than anywhere else.  We were wrinkly prunes, but the boys adored it and so did we.  Maxi got to go on 3 of the slides as he was the right height and Mini enjoyed the children slides and also the white slide too.  My only gripe about the pool is that there is nowhere to hang your towels in the shower area and we like to wash our hair after being in the pool.  During the days we either spent our time in the pool or the play area outside.  The boys didn't go on any of the rides at all, although they did spend an hour in the indoor soft play.

I have to say I was pretty apprehensive about the entertainment.  I had visions of young children being entertained whilst the parents all had a drink and left them too it (not that there is anything wrong with that, its just not my cup of tea).  Well I needn't have worried.  The little ones entertainment is in the pavilion and there is a stage in the centre and a coffee area where parents and children can sit.

The boys had so much fun, they watched Barney, acrobats and got involved in all the drumming.   If they are happy, then we are happy and as parents of young children neither of us want to have a hangover, so a nice coffee went down fine with us.

We ate at Papa John, which is a pizza place and offers a buffet service between 5 and 7, which was perfect for us and the children.  It meant they could have as much salad and pizza as they liked (it was £7.75 for adults and £3.75 for children)

So my verdict, well I am going to leave it to Maxi this time "Can I live here Mummy?"

Writing Workshop - Hues of Orange

We had a caravan when I was growing up.  No, not one of those wonderful static caravans, no we had a box on wheels, so summers were spent setting off in the dead of the night to the English Riviera. 

Well before seat belts became compulsory, my parents would pack the cool box, the pillows and the duvets to make the back seat in to a makeshift bed for my younger brother and me and once we were asleep they would gently lift us to the car and start our adventure.

Often the we woke to the sound of cars thundering by, as my parents had a cup of tea from the thermos flask in a lay by before setting off again on what seemed like a never ending journey to the other end of the country.  A place where the sun shone and was much warmer than our little patch of the North East.  

Once we arrived at our destination we were dispatched to the park on the site whilst the van was prepared for that night, only returning when our stomachs started rumbling.  Left to make friends and leave the parents alone, so that they could open up the wine and get the windbreak pitched.

I remember these trips fondly.  Of baths in buckets and cold showers.  Of share toilet blocks and running in the dark and cold for a pee in the middle of the night.  I look back on the endless days playing swingball with my dad and my mum managing to cook a Sunday roast in a caravan oven and I want to repeat them with my children.

I grew up with regular visits to the English seaside.  Where you needed to have a windbreak and a great big towel for once we came out of the water.  I have memories of being in the sea in a blow up dinghy connected to my dads arm by a long piece of rope, of having the freedom to rock pool and build sandcastles.  The great big moats filling up as the tide came in.

The Breakfasts were always cooked by Dad and we would have sausages, bacon and eggs fresh from the closest farm.  We never had to have cereal like at home.  Holidays were special.  A break from the norm, something to be cherished. e feeling of sand between by toes and often between my teeth too.  

I used to hate the holiday coming to an end, I used to dread the packing up.  I loved spending time with my dad and this meant that he would be returning to work.  I was a real daddy's girl and we would be inseparable for most of the holiday.

We would always stop at a farm and pick up bags of plums and other fruit before making the long journey home, once home we would make jam or "sunshine in a jar" as it became known to me as a reminder of those heady days of high summer.

Those care free, heady days of the 70's, where everything seemed to be orange or brown or it is in my memory, but I wonder how much of that is due to the orange hue that the photographs have taken over time.

I loved the summer, I still do.

This was written for the writing workshop at Sleep is for the weak and I chose prompt 1. Summer

The Photo Lottery

I have been tagged by The Musings of a geriatric Mummy and I am sure someone else too, to do the Photo Lottery Meme, the rules are:

1. Open the first (oldest) photo folder in your computer library
2. Scroll to the 10th photo
3. Post the photo and the story behind it
4. Tag 5 or more people to continue the thread

OK the oldest digital photographs I have on the laptop are from 2003 and our trip to South Africa. This is the tenth one and not all that stunning in its imagery, but as a part of modern history it is just beyond my comprehension.

For this is the cell that Nelson Mandela occupied for approx 18 years during his imprisonment on Robben Island. He was finally released only 13 years before this picture was taken on 11 February 1990 (he didn't spent the last part of his sentence on Robben Island).

The whole tour of Robben Island was very emotional, as we were shown round by an ex-prisoner and oh my it was certainly an eye opener. The hardships that these people endured. The hard labour where they were forced to work in a Lime Quarry and were refused a lot of basic medication.

We were amazed by South Africa when we visited and had the best holiday ever. You have to remember that this is a third world country, with such a mixture of first and third word, that it is mind boggling.

The people we friendly, the hospitality excellent, the food was outstanding and the scenery well out of this world. One day we hope to be lucky enough to take our boys and show them.

Plus I am very envious of anyone who is going to the world cup. They will have a fantastic time, in a beautiful country that has come such a long, long way since the days of apartheid, but still has a long way to travel.

I need to Tag 5 other people to do it too and I am going to tag some of the new people I have been introduced to via The Gallery

Mums gone to....

What's happening at my house

Barefoot in the Kitchen

Freckles family

Kelloggsville


Now if you have tagged me recently, please can you drop me a line, as the flu has fried my brain and I can not find my notebook where I write all these things down - doh, I am having a homer moment as we call them.