I travel a bit for work and have had no qualms getting on a plane. It’s my first international flight without someone else, which takes a bit of getting used to. My usual thing involves wrangling people and this time it’s only me to wrangle. I have a book, some crochet and an assortment of things to watch as part of the on board entertainment. I have time to myself!
The time passes slowly, interspersed with drinks, a snack and towelettes from the cabin crew. I am a bit sleepy and nearly doze off but the noise of excited passengers and grizzling toddlers makes it hard to properly sleep. I don’t envy those parents with their children, but having been there I sympathize with their predicament. It’s around a 4 hour trip as opposed to 13 hours that I have had, so it’s not so bad.
Being alone once I arrived was strange. I didn’t realize how much protection being a mum and wife affords me fron unwanted attentions. A bus driver tried to chat me up, brushing his hand against my thigh.
I stood out at the hotel restaurant when I grabbed a late dinner. The waitresses were very friendly, feeling sorry for the lady dining alone. That was when I started missing my little family, not being able to share the surreal experience of being in a resort.
The thing is, my holidays usually involve staying in a apartment or house which is usually in a city. Activities have include museum trips monuments and soaking up local food and drink. And periodic bouts of laundry.
There is no laundry room, which I didn’t think I would miss, but I do, if only for the flexibility of knowing that I can do it if I need to!
It is way out of my comfort zone, which is a good thing. It is always good to experience something different, and my limited experience of Fiji makes me want to return and see more of it with my family. I love ‘my’ time, but I really want family time.