I could have flown, but my wife needed me to drive...
I was going to do it. I'd made up my mind. I was about to book myself on to another fear of flying course and my wife Sarah was delighted at the news.
Our friends had kindly said we could use their apartment near Malaga.
We’d been before, but we drove. It took two days to get there, then four days later we had to leave as the ferries from Caen were on strike so we knew we needed to get to Calais.
That took another two days.
But it’s simply not possible now with a toddler and a baby, so I was prepared to ‘man up’ and go for it.
Maybe looking after the kids would be a welcome distraction?
It sounded simple. Fly to Malaga from Southampton, then catch a train from the airport and get off four stops later.
Sadly, those plans were thwarted (with some secret relief)!
Maybe I wouldn’t need to get on a plane after all?
Perhaps we could rent a caravan? Then another friend said we could use his villa near Torrevieja.
How lucky that we seem to have well-off friends!
Well, a flight to Alicante or Murcia would mean we’d have to hire a car.
What with child seats and the amount of luggage we’d have, it would cost a small fortune and we needed to save money where possible.
It was then that Sarah decided I’d have to drive down and pick them up from the airport.
Result. I could take the much cheaper Economie ferry to Le Havre, drive to Biarritz, stay the night and then drive on to Alicante the next day.
Both days would mean eight-hour drives. Easy when you consider it’s almost 12 hours to Malaga.
The benefits would outweigh the inconvenience.
We’d have our own car to explore in and I could fill it with all the stuff we’d possibly need for a two-week family holiday.
“What a pity” I said.
‘I was up for flying down, but if I have to ‘‘take one’’ for the family, then I’m prepared to do that.’
The look I got back said it all…shut up you prat!
YOU NUMPTY MICHAEL, THEY WERE PLAYING AT TWICKENHAM!
My Numpty Of The Week award goes to my Wave 105 colleague Michael Coombes.
At the end of last week he was boasting how he was off to spend the weekend with friends in Cardiff to watch the rugby and hopefully see England crowned Six Nations champions.
His mate even suggested trying to get hold of tickets for the game when they were there.
If not, they’d watch it in a nearby pub.
The atmosphere in Cardiff is amazing on match days as the stadium is in the centre of the city.
Then, just as Michael was about to set off on Friday after work, a listener rang in to inform him that the game was in fact being played at Twickenham in London and not in Cardiff!
IF FREDDIE’S GOT CHICKENPOX, I’M OFF TO STAY IN A CARAVAN
My son Freddie was running a temperature of 40C on Monday night.
It’s always a worry when your little ’uns are poorly, but with a four-month-old to look after too, that’s doubled.
By morning he was better, but a call to his nursery revealed that chickenpox was about.
I called my mum to inform her our Sunday visit to the Isle of Wight might be off. Plus, I wouldn’t want my 87-year-old nan around this virus.
It was then my mum pointed out that I didn’t have the pox as a child.
The symptoms are more severe in adults and complications more likely.
If Freddie does have the pox, I’ve decided to spend the week in my friends’ caravan in a field in Segensworth!