My mum asked me 2 days ago if I had given up blogging. “Yikes” I thought aloud!!!!
“No Mum, life just got in the way”
“You’re dead right” she replied – Mum’s are good like that.
And now I find myself here at my kitchen table in an extraordinarily quiet house & what’s the 1st thing I do? Get back to business and do what I love so much – oh and EXHALE.
Here, in brief, is my summer story.
As most of you will have seen on my Instagram of my snapchat (Leanmeamomma) we spend 3 weeks in France in July. 3 weeks I hear you say!
Yes, 2 adults, 3 children, 1 baby, 1 return ferry crossing, 1 mobile home, 1 replaced windscreen, 2 weary grandparents in 1 well travelled tent, numerous bottles of wine & chocolate almond croissants (your taste buds actually dance to greet them) but countless memories to draw on for years to come. Oh it was a summer of Kings.
With a new family member travelling with us this year, we decided to return to Clary’s plage with Eurocamp AGAIN this year. I posted about it last year and you can see it here. The information about the site and surrounding areas are in this post – so to save writers cramp & repeating myself, I’ll leave you read the details there.
We all know that a busy/occupied/happy child equals a happy parent! Believe me I have no desire to return to the same place year on year but when something ain’t broke – well then just don’t go fixing it. This is our 3rd year in Clary’s plage and we have met some of the same families year after year there – this is nice. Maybe because you don’t feel such a fool on seeing others doing as you do – great minds and all that!
The thing about this holiday is that you can be in the same park as another family but yet experience a completely different holiday. We settled into our own routine of dropping 1st & 2nd born to kids camp, handing off any willing participants to Nana & Grandad’s tent in the morning (yes….seriously…..how absolutely cool are my parents???? These are the grandparents that blazed a trail in the 80’s with a trailer tent and a Fiat Regatta, ferrying us all over the continent for the whole of August when we were kids. Irish car’s in France were few & far between in those days let me tell you!!) & hitting the local bike trails to seek out freshly brewed coffee and a healthy dose of Vitamin D.
Whilst we knew plenty of people on site, we actually had to go out of our way to bump into them. Such is life with kids eh? Pool, beach, kids clubs, bike tracks, waterparks, pony trekking…the list is endless.
Forgive the grain!!!! 1984 La Rochelle. Moules Frites on a bin. Not a ham sarnie in sight.
It’s busy. But we’d be busy sitting at home in Ireland…in the rain. So may as well be busy in France. And it’s all worth it. Every so often, in parentville, the stars align and things just work. Not regularly but just enough to recharge your zest for life and give you a boost. The stars aligned for us mid-holiday in the midst of heat wave.
42C at 6:30pm. We faced into our 3rd night of non-sleeping bubs and the world was a weary place to be. But an impromptu trip to the beach at 7:45pm was quite literally the things that dreams are made of. There, quite honestly, that night was no where else in the world I would rather have been.
The ocean was calm and warm. The tide was out presenting miles of white sandy beach. The sun had the perfect amount of heat in it and lay a golden sparkling pathway along a sleepy looking Atlantic ocean. An ocean in which we played ball and danced in for a good hour, until 4th born called time on the situation. An act forgivable as it was 9pm. It was one of those evenings that you will never forget, in all it’s simplicity. And one which will get me though those cold winter evenings.
Packing and unpacking with small kids is hard but there are adventures to be had, my friends. And in the words of my dear old friend Winne the Pooh
“You can’t stay in your corner of the Forest waiting for others to come to you. You have to go to them sometimes.”
― A.A. Milne
Would we go back? Yes for sure.
Your’s still thinking about those damn croissants,