A bug from Old Blighty bites our big lappers . . .
We were there. Camp set up, kids playing in the shallows and the sun booming on the beginning of our adventure. Unfortunately, what goes up must come down. From the lofty heights of that sweet feeling leaving on an extended holiday gives you, we came crashing down… one by one we were hit by the dreaded Lurgie.
Before we left, the oldest had a play date with a mate straight off the plane from the UK. I considered it a bonus at the time, a few hours to myself to pack in peace. But when I had picked him up at the end of the day and realised their whole family was still in recovery mode from the Flu, I crossed all appendages we wouldn’t get it too. We rarely got sick, why would we get it now? Because it was post silly season and in the middle of the mad rush of changing your entire lifestyle, when all the defences are down and your immune system is weak, that’s why!
The kids and I spent three full days each in bed, spread out across that first week of our epic adventure. Mark walked around all full of bravado that he hadn’t picked it up, until the day before we were due to set sail on the Spirit of Tasmania. There he sat in 43 degree heat on a Geelong Beach, wearing a jacket and shivering uncontrollably. Man-Flu, here we come.
What a way to start our holiday!
The following day we dragged ourselves out of bed at 5am to pack the camper and get into Port Melbourne for a morning departure. As soon as the handbrake had been applied to our rig, Mark shot up the stairs to the cabin, buried his head under the blankets, never to see the sights of Bass Straight the entire voyage. Here I was thinking it was worth the extra cost in case we needed to remove the children from respectful society. Or at least to puke in peace if the high seas affected our Land Lubber stomachs.
Thankfully it was glassy seas the whole way and the kids and I, recovered enough to be functional again, had a ball exploring the ship and chatting away to other tourists. Sunshine reflected off the decks, a warm salty breeze dashed our hair and the optimism of a good time ahead permeated the passenger crowd.
I can only hope we didn’t pass the crook stick to anyone. Sorry Tassie.
A Fanatical Sabbatical
‘Mark, Kim and the kids are leaving behind their home in the Adelaide Hills to jaunt around the country side while they manage their arborist business remotely. Normally enrolled in ‘bush school’, they thought they could push the kids outdoor eduction experience a little further by living outside for a year.
And follow them on Facebook @AFanaticalSabbatical