A Working Title "You couldn’t make this sh*t up"

We have just arrived home from a week in Turkey (a blog to come about the actual holiday).  It’s 0115 right now and the kids are asleep and Dave is in the shower.  I’ve got a full bottle of red next to me and I think I might demolish it.  How did we get here?

It begins a week ago when we arrived in Antalya super excited to be there.  I wait for the buggy and maxi cosi at the oversize luggage compartment.  So far, it’s just the maxi cosi that has turned up and it’s looking a little worse for wear.  Cue Miss A – “I need to go to the toilet!” 40 minute wait for the most feral toilet you’ve ever seen, so bad that Miss A’s desire fades and we leave without so much as a trickle!

Get back to oversize luggage to see Dave with all our bags (always a good sign) but the maxi cosi wasn’t attached to the buggy…. Why?  Oh because the baggage handlers, with all the finesse of a surgeon wearing boxing gloves had broken our maxi cosi attachments and also managed to ruin the handles.  BRILLIANT!  So, Dave spends a further 30 minutes filling insurance forms – of which the dude helping knew how to do this a little to well.

Fast forward to today….

The transfer picked us up from our hotel at 1240 for our 1550 flight.  All goes well.

We arrive at Antalya airport to be greeted with MASSIVE cues.   Me, lugging Miss E in the maxi cosi which is not meant to be lugged anywhere!  Finally reach the check in counter and of course, our lady was slower than a wet week.  The dude next to her served 4 groups before she’d finished with one.  Still lugging the maxi cosi.

It runs pretty smoothly from here, passport control, security etc.

Board the plane, still lugging maxi cosi.

Miss E falls asleep before take off, Miss A happily chatting away.  An hour into the 3 hour flight, the seat belt sign comes on, the captain (from the safety of his cockpit) announces that due to a technical issue, we’ll be turning back.  

You know what?  This stuff happens, better to be safe than sorry and all that jazz.


This is where it gets brilliant.

Dave and I had both been battling with an upset tummy, Antalya Airport toilets won’t be winning any awards for cleanliness in the near future, so with legs crossed, we perspired through the wait time. 

Add to that, I can feel my period coming on… Do you think I was prepared?  No!  So off I trot in search of a pharmacy – can’t find one.  Ask the nice looking security man, where can I find a pharmacy to which he replied gruffly “WHAT FOR”… well, the look on his face when I told him what I needed was priceless.  He personally ushered me back through passport control (where I had to surrender my passport to the Federal Police) and down to the pharmacy.  Okay, crisis averted.

Still lugging Miss E around, we try to kill some time.

To be fair, all in all it was only a few hours, so we were still smiling.  Not widely, or sincerely but smiling.

Board plane, kids fall asleep.  Brilliant.  Other kids do not! Not brilliant.  Screaming, yelling and the little sh*t in front of me stands up on her chair and tries to interact with me.  Here’s a tip for anyone travelling near a sleeping baby…. BE QUIET!  If you wake my baby, both you and I are going to pay for it!


Nearing descent, Dave looks like he’s suffered a mini stroke.  He’s staring into thin air.  I ask him a few times what’s up?  He is still staring, gently punch his arm (not really gently) and ask him to talk to me.  He turns, with genuine fear in his eyes and says “I can’t find the house keys!”  Holy Mackerel – you couldn’t make this sh*t up!


Would you believe, my brother and his family are staying in Haarlem and arrived when we were away, so I had left them with the car keys and a house key.  Frantically text (2300 by now) please please please be awake.  Bless him, he was and willing to wait up to give me the car key so I could find the house key I’d left him, but he hadn’t used, in the glovebox (keep up).

Arrive Amsterdam – could kiss the ground.

Play the waiting game at oversize luggage, made all the more insulting because we’re waiting for a broken buggy that we will have to once again LUG through the airport.

Oh yeah and how about the driver who didn’t get our message we would be 4 hours late due to ‘technical issues’ – that would be the reason for the 8 missed calls.

Dave sorts that out – with the patience of a saint.

In car, on way to brother.  Brother happens to be staying in the centre of town, one way streets galore.  Quicker to park a few blocks away and leg it.  I leg it, because I know where he’s staying (and by now, I’ve had enough of the baby – seriously I’ve held that little angel/darling/petal for 10 hours straight!).  See brother, kiss, hug and do a happy dance.  Gives me the keys.

Leg it back to car, through alleys and dark streets.

Driver takes us home.  I see our car, bound out and grab the key in the glove box – practically skip with glee to the front door of our house.  Put key in, turn it….. and Dave calls from the hired car “Oh, I found the key!”

Alls well that ends well.





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