Well it is holiday season and not being ones to miss out mr TM and I decided to take our 2 under 2 on a beach holiday to the sunny, and steep, island of Menorca. We did take them to Lanzarote earlier in the year, but we went for a month and took grandparents with us so we outnumbered the babies, it wasn’t too hot for them, and the duration of our stay certainly made it worth while. Truth be told it was a successful holiday (rare, I know) so we decided to push our luck and fly solo, for a little getaway in the sun.
I am currently sat writing this as baby 2 is awake and playing in his cot, baby 1 is asleep as is Mr TM, it’s 6.30, yawn. So there’s your first glimpse of how holidaying with babies is different. Lie ins do not happen, everyday is a week day here. That being said if we could get baby 2 into one of the shutter covered bedrooms we might have half a chance but the poor thing is stuck in the living room as navigating his cot through the small doorframe just ain’t happening, how they got baby 1s cot in through I will never know.
Another difference is the airport, and flight for that matter, obvs. Being summer the airport was heaving, even on arrival at 5.30am. We had to queue to check in, we had to queue to check in our medical baggage (prescription formula for baby 2, although this was considerably easier than the ordeal we had on our flight earlier in the year) we had to queue to get through the boarding gate, we had to queue to put our bags through the scanners, where we also held up the queue ten fold, as we had to fish out all electricals, liquids and medicines, put bags through, put liquids through, take babies x2 out of prams, put both prams through scanner and mum and dad only then to have bags sent back through for re-scanning, (someone may have left an Ella’s kitchen pouch in said bag), liquids then put in fancy contraception to ensure not secretly a bomb and spend 10 minutes re-packing, herding and loading babies and accompanying paraphernalia back onto prams, x2. All this while a woman on a hen party, adult only that is, just herself to navigate through security, stood next to us re-packing her bag huffing and puffing moaning about what a pain in the arse it is… That was until she looked at our flustered faces and said ‘boy thought I had it hard’. Cheers then.
The plane itself is of course ‘the worry’ however we have flown a few times now with one and two babies and each time it has been fine. Admittedly 4 hours is about our limit so our two hour flight did actually seem like a doddle. It can take me as long to get down the M5 from Birmingham to Bristol on a bad day. We also lucked in somewhat on the plane, we did pay for extra leg room, I know what you’re saying – total waste for two hours, I was in that camp. Until this flight that is, those extra few inches did in fact make a huge difference with two babies and the trunki full of books, stickers, toys etc. Also, the flight wasn’t full so we had a row of three to ourselves which meant baby 1 had her own seat. As flights go this certainly was an easy one, we still have the flight home to face yet so it could all go royally tits up and I’ll regret putting that paragraph out there…
We managed to get through the flight, passport control, baggage handling all relatively unscathed, baby 1 did run around pushing her trunki like a loon but hey she had just been stuck on a plane for 2 hours.
On arrival at our hotel we were put in a room at the bottom of 6 flights of steps… I am not generally one to moan (ok maybe that’s a lie) but with two buggies this really was less than ideal so I sent Mr TM off to have a polite word following which we were moved to a pool facing room, with no steps, result.
So all arrived unpacked it’s now time to enjoy the two weeks of Menorcan sun, right? Hmm stay tuned on that one…