I Took my Teenagers To Italy and All I Got Was Sunburnt and Sore Thighs 😏🤗

PART ONE

PIZZO

I used to be brave, solo travelling, sleeping on rooftops in Jerusalem, climbing Mount Sinai at night, snorkelling the Great Barrier Reef, even feeding crocodiles.

And then I had kids…. and my interpretation of being brave changed. It meant surviving a soft play centre, agreeing to a board game (always ended in tears) and basically getting through a week without losing my mind.

When my kids turned 16 and 18, I felt the pressure to take them somewhere more exciting than Centre Parcs in Bedford or a trip on the Eurostar to Lille.

So, I decided I needed to be brave again.

My teenagers aren’t exactly easy travel companions. And let’s be real, who’s actually had a relaxing holiday since having kids?

I wanted this to be as stress-free as possible, so I booked an all-inclusive resort in Italy. The kids could help themselves to drinks and food and I could relax by the pool with a book. HA ! Who was I kidding?

***

When we arrived, I wasn’t disappointed. The resort was beautiful, spotless, and surrounded by lush green mountains and palm trees.

The most beautiful pink and red flowers trailed over the individual villas, and everything was set up to make life easy, just what I needed.

View from our room

I wanted to sneak into the kids pool (my kids said no)😏

The first night, we were woken up by scratching sounds from above. My son shouted from the mezzanine, “Mum, it must be a lizard! What if it jumps on my bed and attacks me?”

“It won’t,” I called back.

My daughter added, “What if it then jumps down and lands on our bed?”

“It won’t,” I reassured her.

“I’ll just stay awake all night, just in case,” my son said.

The next morning, hotel maintenance came but found nothing. We figured it must be a bird’s nest in the roof tiles. (Typical me, have you read Mites, Mayhem and the curse of the Christmas tree? ) That helped us relax slightly, but every night, the claws came back, madly scratching at the window. The noise was haunting and woke us up throughout the night.

On day two, the kids had a massive row disagreement. It all started over what excursion to do. My son wanted to go on a boat trip and swim in the sea.

“You know I get boat sick. I can’t do that.” Said my daughter.

“You’ll be fine. The waters are calm, I Googled it.” He said.

“Remember the last boat I went on? I was so seasick it ruined my holiday.”

“I also get seasick, so I’m not going on a boat either.” I chimed in.

“No, you DON’T, why are you always taking her side?” He snapped. I won’t say what happened next but it took hours for me to smooth it over.

Our days were spent swimming in the sea and hanging around the beach and pool, it was fabulous. Except my daughter wouldn’t swim in the sea, so it was just me and my boy.

I couldn’t get the kids to put sun cream on my back, even though I always did theirs. A pair of lollygaggers, honestly. So, I got sunburnt, I was sore and peeling like a snake shedding it’s skin. My daughter couldn’t look, she was so grossed out!

My daughter wanted pictures on the beach at sunset, I must have taken a hundred photos of the kids over the week ……. none of which were right.

“Mum, the angle’s wrong.” “Why are you so rubbish at taking pictures”
“Can you take one from behind?”
“Take one where I’m looking away.”

I muttered, “I’m not David Bailey,” roughly every five minutes.

I was surprised to realise that smiling at the camera like a normal human is no longer acceptable. These days, it’s all moody sideway stares into the distance or artful back-of-the-head shots.

I just wanted one where I could see their actual faces.

***

On day three we took a £200 coach tour to Reggio and Scilla. The coach was packed when it arrived. I rushed the kids ahead to sit together, they wouldn’t have survived next to strangers.

I took the last two-seater but then gave it up to a couple.

BIG MISTAKE.

I ended up wedged in the sweaty back row. At least I had a window seat, until I didn’t.

A man with a walking stick squeezed in, then his wife, then another couple.

After the pit stop, since the old man with the stick was already on the coach, I gave up my window seat to save them the hassle of getting up.

Now I’m stuck in the middle, no window, no air con, just a view straight down the aisle. I managed to keep my thighs within the parameter of the seat, they did not.

Their thighs were chafing against mine through my linen trousers, and the lack of personal space was genuinely torturous.

I endured seven hours of this. (Should have done the boat trip) 😆

When we arrived in Reggio, it was beautiful. We could see Sicily across the water and even spot Mount Etna in the distance, with smoke billowing from the top.

zoom in to the family that would not leave! Ha.

The tour guide casually mentioned it had erupted twice the week before, which immediately sent my anxiety into overdrive.

All I could picture were giant earthquakes, lava flows, and me sprinting through the streets with the kids, dodging molten rock.

Not exactly the relaxed holiday vibes I was after.

We mooched through the shops, ate a mini doughnut, then back to the coach.

Next stop Scilla. The tour guide hyped up the view, describing how breath-taking it would be as we turned the corner. I of course had no view, so all I could do was pray that my daughter, armed with two fancy cameras, would capture it for me.

But no, she was fast asleep in her comfy seat. As was my son. This is what they could have taken.

End of Part one………..Part Two next week… I feel sorry for myself , YMCA dance disaster, a raw pink ham/sausage? pizza, and a foam pool party I attended solo , well sort of, I was in the pool at least…..

• Ever had a relaxing holiday with the kids? If so what’s your secret?

• What’s the worst coach trip you’ve ever taken?

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