Each year my fabulous family & I embark on a skiing holiday which involves piling into a taxi with our over-sized coats & trekking down to heathrow to indulge in some complimentary bacon rolls (Courtesy of Tony at BA. Thanks Tony) before flying to Geneva. Each year is the same routine; panic-buying perfume & make-up we do’t need but buy ‘just in case’, helping ourselves to many packs of small biscuits before boarding a plane & usually managing to lose my dad somewhere between take-off & landing. True story.
There is also always a discussion about our return journey as, like clock work, the minute we leave for snow-related activities, England will have the worst snowfall of the year & subsequently shut down for the next month, sending news reporters into melt-down as we watch on from the alps. Every year it’s the same & this year was of course no different.
It’s usually due the very day we’re due back, the dreaded ‘S’ word then becomes the root of all chaos- related conversations, making our return journey rather stressful. The very stuff we Isaac- Wells travel hours to seek just for our own enjoyment, we want banished as soon as our six days’ is up as we decide it should no longer become a hindrance & we should be able to get on with our lives.
This year we managed to avoid being stranded in Geneva airport (the worlds most boring airport. Ever) by the skin of our teeth, turning up 8hours before our flight because I had very diligently checked twitter the night before & BA had informed me *and everyone else on the internet* our flight was already cancelled. *Smug face* So by forcing all 8 of us onto the next flight back to Gatwick- not heathrow, but it was still England so we didn’t care- we managed to defeat the weather & arrived back all in one piece!
Above is a little bit of our heaven.
Anyway- the holiday was fantastic! As usual I ate far too much bread, cheese & croissants- all the stereotypes taste so much better in France. I got so cold it upset me, drank 3000 litres of wine; both chaud & chilled as well as developed a taste for a post-slope beer in the hot tub. We played games & generally enjoyed each others company over French dinner & it was bliss.
My sister from another mister (I.e my cousin) & I scored yet another point for ‘minor celeb bingo’ when we bumped into Danny O’Donoghue at the airport. For those asking “WHO”?!? & looking confused, google Danny from the script. He was really sweet but skinnier & more pale in real life & despite a desperate tweet from me after the encounter, he decided to just keep relations to that one meeting. Snubbed. We have previously seen actual Sean Paul on a flight back from Geneva which was very exciting… & we totes knew it was him straight away *coughs*
Landing back unscathed, slightly red-faced & all a bit puffy from 7 days of carb-loading we Isaac-Wells can’t help but discuss where we should go next year. Well, it would be rude not to!