Gin and tonic time – the Marrakech Chronicles episode 1
We’ve just got back from our first ever ‘fancy’ holiday – by that I mean a hotel, taxi transfers, excursions and no staying with friends and family. We spent 9 days in Marrakech (during Ramadan, with the temperature topping out at 44 degrees). Wow! What an incredible experience. I’ve written a series of blogs on the whole trip from start to finish, which I’m going to publish over the next couple of weeks. Hope you enjoy them.
Episode 1 – Gin and tonic time – 19th June 2016
My husband flew on his own with the boys for the first time today and I am following on a later flight. Childless, but not stress free. This is mainly because I forgot that I had to pick the dogsitter up from a different airport and that meant that I would not actually be able to make the same flight as the rest of my family, who are starting their holiday in a nice leisurely fashion relaxing in a hotel at Gatwick before we fly to Marrakech tomorrow at 6.25am. I will arrive at the hotel at 1am, and then get up again at 4am. Hmmm.
In flight entertainment is totally bizarre. I am watching a surreal animated video without sound on my flight which involves a man whose nose looks like a penis giving the heimlich manouvre to a shark who spews up a crab with a purple head. I swear, I am not making this up. Nor am I drunk.
In fact, just after check in we got this message:
Panic stations. No gin on the flight, I think, what will I do, I think, ok, calm down, buy a beer, message Angela, she understands about gin. I do both of these things and feel a bit better.
Upon boarding, I nearly had a spoilt brat type wobbler about needing to be parted from my wonderful fancy new Elvis and Kresse handbag because some heathen had put their wheelie trolley in MY space in the overhead locker. I am in aisle 1 darling. It is practically business class (we will overlook the fact that I am in fact flying Norwegian, which is Ryanair with newer planes).
And oh my word, the lovely man in charge of the plane has furnished me with gin and tonic, stowed my brand new handbag in a safe place and keeps smiling re-assuringly at me. I’m sure he thinks I’m mad. I bet they have a bit in their training manuals for crazy English women which reads 1. Give gin and tonic 2. repeat 1 etc
As soon as we take off, a couple start having a heated argument on the other side of the aisle. I inadvertantly look their way and want to look away, but the sun is a bright red ball sinking below the clouds and is mesmerising. I stare for longer than is polite, then avert my eyes back to the bizarre in flight entertainment (now featuring a caterpillar trying to escape from a jar) and wonder if it is possible to get another gin.