We Went On A Babymoon

{To look back on when our next holiday is all-consumed by building sandcastles ;)}

'We should have a babymoon,' I said to my husband, upon realising that the second part of our honeymoon, scheduled to take place in Venice this summer, was unlikely to materialise thanks to my maternal state.

‘Yeah alright,’ he replied, and so we went online, booked a package deal and, a month later, off we flew. This is what we did:

  • Chose a relaxing trip over an action-packed jaunt, which is our usual M.O. Gran Canaria was our destination – land of rock and sunshine and not much else. Ah, bliss
  • Booked an adult only resort, because who wants to be surrounded by kids on their last chance to not be surrounded by kids?
  • Stocked up on e-books, read by the pool every single day for hours on end, accompanied by endless snacks and peace and quiet
  • Ate enormous breakfasts on the balcony, using ‘we’re on holiday’ as an excuse to consume every breakfast food. My favourite: buttered, seeded fresh bread with cheese, a chocolate chip brioche, strawberries, orange juice and tea. His: fresh croissants with butter and jam
  • Swam in freezing temperatures, doing both ‘serious’ solo sessions that involved actual exercise, and silly together sessions that had us guffawing like buffoons over things that - to our minds only - were beyond hilar
  • Hunted down the best places to eat, and then ate at them. There was some damn good pasta on that island
  • Slept in and snuggled until crazy o’clock
  • Sunbathed for about twenty minutes before hiding in the shade and, last but not least
  • Explored the local area in our novelty sunglasses, feeling the movements in my tum and enjoying the sound of the sea without ever going in the sea, because he hates the beach for reasons unknown, and our pool overlooked it anyway so why bother getting dressed when you can walk to the pool in your swimsuit alone?

And it was fantastic.

Previously, our first choice of holiday has been somewhat adventurous. I usually go for a city break, with the aim to wander aimlessly (whether in the street, a museum, whatever) from wake up 'til bedtime, stopping only to eat, drink, or buy something random and often amusing. He likes to don a pair of skis and find fresh pow. Whichever option, we tend to return home from our holiday needing a holiday, and that's just the way we like it.

This time, we were desperate to relax. As well as baby, we have been in the trenches of a house move since October (yes, it is now June) with no end of difficulties holding us up. We run our own businesses, so work can be intense. I'm even doing a course right now to allow me to retrain as a teacher, and at the end of each day/week/month we are both entirely knackered. And so, despite mild concern that a week in the sun may be wildly under stimulating to the point of leaving us both in boredom comas, we quickly deduced that this was exactly what we needed, fully embraced it, and had the best bloody holiday of our lives.

There are many things you are told to do before your first baby arrives, big to do lists and bucket lists and every other form of list imaginable crammed full of bits that you NEED to do, and HAVE to get sorted and blah blah blah. A babymoon seems to rank low on all of these lists. I would put it at the top of all of mine.*

*Along with: Get a check up at the dentist, get some new glasses - because experience observing  friends has taught me that contact lenses just won't cut it if conjunctivitis hits your household, and I'm not even going to get into the ramifications of pink eye - and watch as much TV as possible

Ah relaxation, ah summer lovin', ah take us back...

Lottie xx

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