I’ve been chasing a ghost. A little guy called spontaneity.
Inspired by a quick flash of blue sky and … oooh, sunshine, we decided to turn our relatively peaceful Bank Holiday plans on their head and pack up for some last minute camping for the weekend.
Fearing that we would look back in soggy August at the summer that was the June Bank Holiday weekend, we were intent on getting out there. We bought into the madness because a fairly handy Friday in work meant we could pack up and get out of the city by lunchtime. It’d be a short break as the big fella’s best friend’s 4th birthday party on Sunday is unmissable. But it was unplanned and that was half the attraction! We had all the gear so (in theory) packing up would be easy. We sent off a batch of e-mail enquiries – chasing as best we could, some nice weather.
At various points during the night the little dream was killed stone dead by snot, over-booking, and sleep deprivation.
By 11 a few emails showed a few more organised people would be staying at ‘our’ number one options in Wicklow and Wexford. The car journey started to stretch from one hour to over two but we got nice responses from a few lovely sites in Tipperary. It was going to be grand.
A 1.30am shout from the big fella. He needed to discuss his bed. Apparently he really doesn’t like it. Right. Wait til he hears about camping!
A 5.30am reckoning with his sister sealed the deal. Her nasty cold wasn’t quite gone and she was simply grumpy and in need of a bum rub and a snuggle…for the fifth night in a row. We must be f~*&in’ crazy.
There are points in a marriage when you realise that you are on completely the same wavelength. We arrived at that point at 7am.
A bit more sleep and a bit less hassle make living with the regret that is a Dublin based-3-day-summer quite easy. Next time I’ll be better organised for a real dose of spontaneity…