Is it boring to read in exhaustive detail about someone else’s holiday? I hope not because here are some exhaustive details. I shouldn’t really but my hubs got on my nerves at the beginning of our trekking adventure. I like to share so I know that I am not alone nor going mad.
What is it about holidays? It must be the close proximity. Well you definitely can’t get closer than a tent with no phone or internet signal. Oh and no other people to lose yourself with, except two of your children and many goats and sheep and many, many, many cattle.
To be fair, an expression I always use after I feel I have been a bit mean. To be fair to him, he runs his own business and having done that myself, it does make you twitchy when you first leave your office. That is why I planned the two mini holidays rather than one long one. So once we were back from the UK, he had two days to catch up and then plan to go away again. Obviously it wasn’t long enough to do that. Why wasn’t it long enough? Because he decided to stay longer in the UK than we had originally planned. I just have to state for the record that I KNEW it was going to end in tears.
In fact we missed the first walk to a crater-ette north of THE Ngorogoro Crater because we left the hotel late. Why did we leave late? Because hubs needed to send out two legal documents he had worked on all night and had to finish before he ran out of internet. Fair enough.
I think I just need to ban any “WH” questions followed by a negative or a particular tone of voice for …let me see at least the first 5 days of an adventure holiday.
Such as “why didn’t you bring my raingear..” The answer, “you said you didn’t need them, and I am not your mother and you were shouting so I thought you were a grown up and knew best…”
“Why DID you…I would do it differently…”
“Why HAVE you… I would have done this..”
By hour 18 of day one holiday 2, I had decided that I was never going to pack for him again. I never did it before and life was much easier. It is only since I closed my business and now look like I am loafing about the place doing nothing that I did his packing. I was trying to be helpful. I had also organised the whole holiday and hubs hadn’t had time to really know what we were doing, until we were on the plane. The stress of being the partner who has potentially got it all wrong was horrendous. On the first night, it was freezing cold, the sleeping bags weren’t warm enough, we hadn’t had a camp fire, and there was a lot of moaning.
The children were great until we started the actual walking. Before we had left Dar es Salaam, I had given them their bum bags and a lecture on taking responsibility for their own kit. You see, usually, they are at school and at work so I only have to answer “where is/where are” questions intermittently. Plus, you see, they are USUALLY responsible people. Something happened to them all once we went north of Dar es Salaam. They became helpless, lacked initiative and failed to demonstrate team spirit qualities such as sharing, helping each other and being thoughtful.
Come to think of it, maybe my original family were taken by aliens. Hmm possibly and replaced with really annoying, can’t find anything, can’t look for anything, can’t sort out their bags, can’t find their suncream, can’t find their hand wipes – lookalikes. The sole role in life for these lookalikes in the first 48 hours was to upset my viewing and walking pleasure. The views by the way were amazing, simply amazing.
Now that was just the warm blooded creasures. On a camping holiday, like no other, there are many INANIMATE ITEMS which need constant checking up on. The reason for that is they take on life forces of their own. They make bids for freedom when THEY MOVE THEMSELVES from where they have been put, entirely without human mammal intervention.
I felt as if the only conversation I had with any of them for 48 hours was to answer WHERE IS X or Y questions interminably and to run around like an idiot helping to find things. I was smothering on the new estrogen gel I had had prescribed the week before when the doctor found out the HRT WASN’T working. But there certainly wasn’t enough happiness and balance in that one, poor, little gel tube. I had to take xanax as well as I was really getting in a pickle and losing perspective.
What did it matter that they were all squabbling over the wet wipes, the loo paper and the suncream? Truth be told, I was irked that they weren’t following my bum bag etiquette. I have honed this to perfection by my years of field trips, which they had NOT done. I know, I know I wanted to be appreciated and was failing to communicate this. Finally I decided I couldn’t stand the bickering over who had shared what bloody wet wipe and so I had a MAHOOSIVE temper tantrum.
I did the full monty AND sounded just like my mother…
You are so lucky to be on holiday,
I’ve organised it all,
You haven’t had to do anything,
All you do is fight about having to share the wet ones and the mosguard,
You are lazy and won’t move to fetch your own things,
I packed perfect bum bags for you so that you would take responsibility,
None of the children here have anything and they don’t have the quality of education you have,
I’m NOT enjoying myself as I feel like your servant,
HUGELY SATISFYING RANT
Things changed, more appreciation, a bit of humility all round, I lightened up and eased off the xanax which clearly hadn’t been working anyway. I gave up on the gel as I was just rubbing grime and dust around my arm. I could have used my leg, but didn’t see it for the duration as it was so cold, I decided there was no need to change my trousers until we got back to Arusha.
Fabulous trek. I’d highly recommend it.
I’d also highly recommend a proper briefing before you go, a daily debrief and that you don’t share your wet wipes for love nor money.