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If you’re a campsite person, you’ll have had the conversation; the one where you chat with the people in the mobile home across the way about which campsites you’ve been to and which ones they’ve been to, and which ones were great and which ones were awful. Who you stayed with,
I need to preface this post with a caveat: we went to Union Lido campsite in Italy for the second part of a two-centre holiday, the first part of which was spent in Bella Italia. We had an incredible time in Bella Italia, and had agreed that it didn’t matter
“So where are you off to?” my child’s teacher asked, as we chatted about holidays. “To a mobile home in a campsite in Italy,” I said. “Oh, is it Bella Italia? I went there when I was ten,” the teacher replied, and that was when I realised for the first
Sitting on the deck at half past midnight, I can hear Killing Me Softly wafting across the campsite, to the background sound of waves washing up on the sand. I’m finishing a glass of red wine and thinking about closing my book. The candle flickers in the darkness, and I
Two things we didn’t consider when we booked our holiday this year: 1. Italy can be very hot in July (subsequent raised eyebrows and “Italy in July? With small kids? Really?” comments did hammer this home) 2. Our campsite, Norcenni Girasole, is inland – way inland – sitting prettily in the hills
Recently, I asked my seven-year-old if she remembered Sequoia Parc, the campsite we stayed in, two years ago in France. “Of course I do – it had a dragon pirate ship thing beside the pool,” she said. “No,” I said, “That was Clarys Plage, last year.” She was sure I was wrong.
The three things I’m asked most often, here on OfficeMum, and on Facebook and on Instagram, are as follows: 1. Which is the best campsite 2. How do you get into freelance writing and 3. How do you write a book – or: I’ve written a book, what do I
I remember it so clearly. I was driving down the Quays, towards the Samuel Beckett Bridge, heading home from work, wishing for an email. Not any email – one particular (in my head, at least) life-changing email. Begging the universe. If I could have just this one email, everything would come
“We’ve been here six times,” said the woman behind me in the queue at the bakery, “and now we’re afraid to go anywhere different in case it’s not as good.” This was in Cambrils in Spain, and she wasn’t the only one who said it. One family reportedly rented the
After 18 months of searching, fourteen thousand buckets of tears when we walked away from our old house, seven nail-biting weeks from “sale agreed” to “here are the keys”, and a month of almost-done refurbishment, we’re finally in our new house. And it’s bliss. Except for all the things that aren’t
A few weeks ago I took the middle child out for a lunch date to Dundrum, preceded by a trip to Claire’s for some new hairbands. When I opened my phone cover to take out my Laser card, it wasn’t there. Nor was my parking ticket. I had a credit card
Looking through old photos in my dad’s house one afternoon, I found a picture I had never seen before. It was taken in the early 80’s and showed a group of us on picnic at the beach. Studying it gave me a surge of nostalgia for a time I don’t remember at
What makes a holiday? Is it time off work, or time to yourself, or time with the kids, or a break from the kids? Is it time to read your first book this year or time to get through six? Sunbathing or swimming or sliding or sailing or sleeping? Time
Exactly two years ago this week, I was on this same beach (give or take a bit of sand) when I saw a woman in a deckchair and almost took her photo. Then I got worried – what if I shared her photo online and it had unexpected repercussions on her life
I was going to call this Snapshot of a woman on the edge but that was just too melodramatic for what really comes down to wishing away the long, final days of school before the summer starts. So it’s a snapshot from the cusp instead – from one tired mother
Two summers ago, we spent a glorious fortnight in Marina di Venezia, a campsite near Venice that’s situated right on the beach. About five days into our holiday, I was lying awake in bed, cranky after a bad night’s sleep, and irrationally irritated that everyone else was still snoring (including the
I stared at the self-service till in the supermarket, and it stared back at me. I braced myself and pressed the start button. Bagels – check. The satisfying beep told me I’d successfully united the barcode and the scanner on first go – result! Bread – check. Surely a record?
It’s that looking-ahead-while-looking-back time of year, and since I’m still in pyjamas and eating the last of the Butlers chocolates, I’m staying firmly in looking-back mode. And I’m taking the lead from Sadhbh of Where Wishes Come From again this year and joining her annual linky to round up my favourite 17 blog-related things from 2017: 1.
Colouring outside the lines. Slipping beyond the boundaries. Leaving schedules shivering in the morning chill as the plane takes off for sunnier places. Forgetting the routine that wraps up the day during the rest of the year. That’s the theory anyway. But as soon as we arrived in Spain, I realised boundaries were up for
What’s your ideal holiday? If you had asked me ten years ago, the answer was easy. Reading good books, getting some sun, sleeping in, eating out. Basically relaxing. I didn’t need to go to the warmest beach or the hottest club – my needs were simple. Or so I thought.