The Ditherers: how being indecisive on a holiday destination has been the best thing ever!

We disappeared for most of 2014 in a blaze of dust, sunsets and naughty corners. Travelling around Australia has probably been the most valuable exercise we have done as a family. We experienced parts of this country which left me feeling spiritually uplifted and wonderous; we wined and dined ourselves almost completely out of our usual pants and we spent more time together as a family unit than most do before the kids hit high school.


 Cape Riche in Western Australia last year, an idyllic campspot where my beloved and I almost spilt blood over reversing the camper trailer and who was the bigger fucking idiot. Aah, good times.
Of course we all wanted to kill each other regularly and had fits about inane things like whether “Go right” means turn right or whether it means “Go straight” or “Go slightly right then left” punctuated by swearing that would make your toes curl.  For the first time ever on that trip one of our children ACTUALLY went to bed without any dinner (read about it here if you need a pick-me-up on your own parenting battles and see how well that worked for everyone). And the dust. The soul destroying, creeping feckless dust. So there were awesome things and not so awesome things.
Anyway, at the end of the year it was no secret that I could have fairly cheerfully, accidentally tripped over a can of petrol in the camper trailer and then accidentally dropped a lighter into it from a safe distance. But as with childbirth and the Michelle Bridges 12 Week Body Transformation, time heals all and you think you could probs do it all over again.
That’s where I’m at at this point in time (not childbirth- I’d have to be at the end of a week long crystal meth binge* to think that was a good idea. And having done a 12WBT round this year, don’t think I’ll be getting back on that diet-gravy train too soon, effective as it was). I’m ready to get back in that camper trailer. In fact, I’d even go so far as to say I’m looking forward to it.
I’d been thinking about a trip away subconsciously for a while, but it wasn’t until I read Annabel Candy’s post on Disappearing that I realised I really, really want to disappear with my family for a little while again.  So I started researching holidays… Fiji, Thailand, Bali… but of course it’s high season and pretty expensive and (more pertinently) The Boetman is still too young to be yoinked into the Kids Club at most resorts so really, there’s not much point there: if we’re going to pay what some people do in private school fees for the year on 7 days in a resort, I’m sure as hell wanting some luxurious by the pool (without being splashed or asked to put on floaties or get dressed/undressed/ I’m hungry /Play with me/ Could you parent me just for a bit??) cocktail in hand alone time.

I want more of this…
And I looked at cruises- they take kids from 3 years old in their crèches- but then we’re all stuck in a little room from around 7.30pm onwards. Isn’t that when it all starts to get a bit interesting on a cruise? I want to King Of The World at night time, not just during the day when everyone’s doing it.
In any case, Fiela and I weighed up our options and decided that if an outrageously awesome island escape came up last minute and was valid for the next month or two, we’d go. But if a week or two out from school holidays we still hadn’t come up with anything, we would pack up and head up to North Queensland. It would be like Fiji but with more grey haired people and caravans.
Luckily for us an incredibly cheap Fiji deal DID come up with a full babysitting service, so we’ve avoided the Grey Nomads and jet off in September which should be enough time for any volcanoes to erupt and blow their ash the hell away from our flight path. To say I’m not disappointed we didn’t go camping is probably a huge understatement. I’m even looking forward to that waxing appointment everyone dreads when they have dreads they’ll have to pull out thanks to being a winter bikini sloth. Overshare?
Anyhoo, watch this space (or don’t depending on where your level of Bitter is standing at this Fijian moment) for I will be reporting from somewhere other than my camper-trailer. And we should all be thankful for that.
* I refer to crystal meth a bit, but I’ve never actually experienced it in anyway. Oh! I tell a lie! I almost stepped on some strange looking glass beaker-y thing at a campground in South Australia last year and apparently it was an ice pipe. My esteem of ice users went up a smidge- it all looked pretty scientific this getting outrageously high and psychotic business.


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