A sleepless flight during which our children’s behaviour is simultaneously praised and derided. From one side of the plane, an elderly lady complimented them (and therefore us) on their good behaviour, noting that her similarly aged grandchildren would never have been so good on such a long flight. In front of me, the 30ish year old Irish girl who fully reclined her seat onto my lap the second the seatbelt sign went out and promptly fell asleep, moaned within one minute of Harley coming to sit on my lap for a story that he’d kicked her seat and should be immediately sent back to his own place. I apologised and explained, in my best sarcastic tone, that space was a problem in economy but she was furious that he’d disturbed her 8 ½ hours into her sleep. I couldn’t help but want to punch her in the back of the head as she drifted off again…
We arrive at 12pm on Saturday, 5 hours before we’ve left.
I’ve really struggled to find any reasonably priced accommodation and so we’re spending a couple of nights in the completely overpriced Crowne Plaza. Our bodyclocks are so out of whack that the kids want breakfast cereal for dinner and no one gets to sleep before 4am.
It’s lunchtime before we wake up and time to investigate.
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