The first holiday I can remember was to a tiny beach town called Robe in South Australia. I think I must have been around eight years old – Mum and Dad had booked this holiday house for a week or so and piled my sister and I into the car jammed between folded bedsheets and pillows and grocery bags filled with kitchen supplies.
Once we arrived, I remember feeling so odd being in what was essentially a complete stranger’s home – touching the rickety old furniture with trepidation and slight repulsion (oh my goodness just think of what could have gone in here before today) and staring at the faded artworks on the wall in utter disbelief – a ritual that has long continued into adulthood (apparently all holiday homes must have ugly faded paintings – it’s a rite of passage). From that trip, only three things really stayed in my memory:
- Falling out the top bunk bed, dead to the world in the middle of the night and absolutely FREAKING OUT that that could actually happen. You can. Fall out. Of a bunk bed. I made really good friends with the wall after that night.
- Reconsidering a spelling change to my name I had insisted on earlier in the year because the personalised pen being sold for $2.99 at the chemist only came in the boring version of the name that was (and granted, still is) on my birth certificate. That sucker was worth it – it was pink and yellow AND HAD MY NAME ON IT, yo!
- Hopping on board a boat with neighbours my parent’s had made friends with to go crayfishing. Here I witnessed two things I had NOT signed up for – the slicing of a (live) stingray’s fins off to use as bait (arrrghhh), and then the ripping of an octopus’ head off to use as bait (aaarrgghhhh). Two things learned – one, fishermen have little-to-no mercy for creatures of the sea (and small children witnessing deaths of said creatures) and two, octopi have surprisingly cartoon-like insides.
The first international holiday I ever went on was with my sister to visit my father in New York a few years back. It was also our first long-haul flight and it was a painful 23 hours until we reached our destination. Despite staying up the night before we flew out, I did not sleep a wink the entire time. It must have been about 8 hours in when I was literally on my hands and knees begging my sister for a sleeping pill. She, having cleverly taken one as soon as we boarded, obliged, but as soon as it started to take effect and I began to drift off, the lights in the cabin came on, assaulting me with their astounding fluorescence and accompanying cabin crew spruiking snack bags filled with American cookies and lollies. Sleep seemed so far away at that point, so I gave up and spent the rest of the flight dopily staring at the map and airplane on the screen in front of me, listening to music and swearing I would punch my sister out if she took one more inch of my arm rest. It is amazing to note just how reasonable physical aggression appears to any extremely sleep-deprived young person half way across the Pacific Ocean with nothing to comfort them but a bag of Mentos and Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups.
Here’s some of what I learned on that holiday:
- Australia is never as cold as New York City in December. Ear muffs are suddenly hella cool when the alternative is your face LITERALLY FALLING OFF as soon as you walk outside.
- People fall over a lot in snow.
- When the seatbelt light goes out on an international flight that is not completely full – DO NOT EVEN THINK ABOUT SITTING STILL. Run like the wind to find an empty aisle to claim and use in its entirety as a makeshift bed. NB: Everybody else apparently already knows this – you will have competition.
- Falling snow is really, really pretty. New York City doormen are incredibly sweet. Central Park squirrels are lightning-speed fast, and American cheese is ridiculously orange.
- Americans eat a lot of pies at Thanksgiving – at least in Connecticut. Pumpkin pies, apple pies, lemon meringue pies, chocolate mousse pies… Thanksgiving in Connecticut never ends. Unless you fall asleep from jet lag.
- No one will know what you mean when you say you’re cold so you’re going to put on a jumper. Or they will know what you are saying and will think ‘jumper’ is the funniest word in the entire world.
- You should not keep bananas in your carry-on luggage. Nor let your sister keep bananas in hers. Nor let her leave you with her banana bag as you go through customs.
- Seagulls in Florida are grey, not white, and it is a lie when people say you can never forget how to ride a bike. Tell that to the five-or-so people I almost mowed down in a South Beach car park.
- When you’re not used to the currency and don’t want to admit it, your wallet gets weighed down with A LOT of teeny tiny coins you don’t know the value of. Nickel what? Have five bucks.
- Lots of things are ‘super’ in America. Which means lots of people are adorable in America because ‘super’ is just the cutest word ever.
On a side note, when the ink in that pink and yellow personalised pen ran out, the birth certificate spelling of my name never once again saw the light of day. Yewww! Until other people forgot I changed it. Like MY OWN FAMILY on every single birthday card they have ever given me.
