My Daddy gets seasick. I know this now because we went on a ferry to Guernsey last week and he couldn’t manage anything beyond ‘aaargh that was a bad one’ for the whole trip. He has spent the first 3 days of our holiday panicking about the return journey, and I’m sure from his reaction that no-one has ever felt as bad as he did.
At the time I was pretty nonchalant, but now I am concerned. He has developed a new-found obsession with a website called windfinder.com, which he studies intently from the first moment of awakening until just before he nods off at night. Mummy says it is a welcome distraction from the war games app he has recently downloaded onto his iPad. At least windfinder is quite a mind-numbing pre-bedtime activity. It doesn’t help that C, a guest for dinner last night and a keen windsurfer, exclaimed ‘You’re sailing back when?!’.
Guernsey itself did not disappoint. With 27 beaches to choose from it was a tough decision every day. Swimming or rock-pools? Kites or sandcastles? The one where they sell nice toasties, or the one with the cream teas? Add to that parks suitable for a first ditching of the bicycle stablisers and it is pretty easy to while away the hours. So go, definitely. Maybe consider a fly-drive though!
Mummy coped stoically with the boat by consuming vast quantities of Revels and refusing to look up from her magazine. Daddy is now talking about flying back separately from us and our car. Mummy is kicking herself for not having thought of it first! Is Daddy really sea-sick, or is it all part of a very elaborate plan….?