Oh, the memories...

So here they are, the best things about going on holiday to Mauritius... (or at least, our holiday in Mauritius, which I appreciate may be unique to the Potty family).

Spending non-pressured time with Husband and Boys. Well, non-pressured in so much as our only guidelines were that breakfast finished at 10.30am, and Boy #2 had a nap each day after lunch. Oh yes, and that a babysitter was booked to keep an eye on them most evenings so we had to be ready to go out at 8.00pm. And also that the turn-down service guys arrived each evening at 7.30pm so we had to have the boys out of the bath by then so the bathroom could be cleaned... Gosh, actually it sounds like a rather exhausting schedule when you put it like that...

Are you sick yet, Tattie and Rebecca? Don't be. My Beloved was working EVERY DAY. However, this didn't seem so bad (to me, anyway) when you could...

...walk straight from our room onto the beach. This is a considerable advantage when you need to be able to have one boy playing - albeit safely in the shade, heaven forbid he might get a tan - on the sand, whilst the other snores gently inside. It is also an advantage when your Husband has to work every morning, lap-top humming away and mobile glued to his ear, and you want to indulge in a bit of guilt-free sunworshipping whilst your children are in...

....The Kid's Club. 4 hours off every day for Husband and I whilst the Boys get to do interesting stuff (archery, nature walks, cookery - don't get excited, only pizza) and frolic in the fort and the kid's only pool. Most importantly they were also fed lunch. Hurrah! No ketchup on my swimsuit, and Husband and I could have lunch on the beach courtesy of...

...the on-beach waiter service (I'm sure it has a fancy name but I don't know it). Stick a flag in the sand and some-one obliging appears with iced water, clean towels, and a menu for lunch. Lots of healthy options but of course, on holiday, nothing has any calories in it (oh, you didn't know the First Law of Travel?), so we just over-indulged in carbs and chips each day. With a bit of salad on the side, of course. Lucky for me there was also...

...an adults only pool (in addition to more a feral family pool) to burn off a minute fraction of said carbs. Must admit, I felt a bit of a fool ploughing up and down with my goggles on whilst everyone else in the (kid-free) vicinity were honeymooners, simply there to soak up the rays whilst lying in interesting poses to ensure an even tan. I remember when an even tan seemed important - it was pre-kids. In any case, since they (well, the women anyway) had spent the last six months working out like crazy to shine on their wedding day they were damned if they were going to raise a sweat on their two weeks off. (Come on, we all did that, right?). Consequently, I had the pool almost to myself - lovely.

I could go on, but not only am I making myself gag, and since I'm now back in rainy London and am getting rather depressed, I won't. I especially won't bother to tell you about the glass-bottomed boat (actually no great shakes since due to our restrictive nap schedule we couldn't go at high tide, and so consequently saw very few fish. Not that it mattered to the Boys. A boat that you could see through the bottom of? Better than crisps), or the hotel's private island with sugar-soft sand, crystal clear waters and wonderful beach-side restaurant (where Husband and I had our unwise experience with the sea-food platter).

I think I'd better stop. No one will ever read my blog again...

Must go and sort out the laundry. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.