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The International Writers Magazine
:Lifestyles: Holidays with family

Holiday en famille
Anna K goes to Europe

I
was offered a free six-week holiday to Europe, all meals and luxury hotel accommodation included. No I’m not a sales rep. I went on holiday with my parents. I went on a family holiday.
Why does that sound so cringe worthy?

Is it a social faux to go on a holiday with your family when you’re 20 years old?
Yes indeed it is bizarre and yet rewarding. But remember dear reader, everything comes at a cost. As I discovered personally, this dear cost was a constant feeling of intrusion and lack of privacy.
(But then I figure, on Big Brother some people auditioned to have these privileges taken away.)

THE AIRPORT
Does anyone else have a father that is so rigorously organised to the point of obsession? Put it this way, we never missed a plane.
Or consider it this way; we were at every flight about 5 hours before it left.
"F***!! Shit!!!" my dad would panic as we caught a taxi to Leonardo Da Vinci airport in Rome. The traffic was bad, quite bad. There was no way we were going to be at the airport in half an hour. Dad checks his watch and curses in Macodonian, 8.57 am. Were we going to make our 3pm flight to London?!

My mother can err on the side of caution. This is a great quality in mothers if their daughters are sick and they need chicken soup. Lovely. But airport behaviour is a different story.
I gritted my teeth and walked with my family as we carried our luggage. Our conspicuous, matching ("so we can find more easily") luggage mummified to the max in industrial strength gladwrap. Granted, we had a stopover in Singapore, and this Lindy Chamberlain, I mean Schapelle Corby thing has every parent worried about travel.

That’s not all, this innovative concept of gladwrap (which by the way costs about 10 bucks to be wrapped at the airport) has a noise deterrence as well. Just to look even more conspicuous, the plastic squeaks. A lot. One suitcase can be heard from Tullamarine international to Jetstar domestic terminals. Multiply this force by four. Four identical wrapped squawking parcels and you have yourself an idea of the fun that only family holidays can bring.

THE HOLIDAY BEGINS
We spent a week in Prague, which is simply unbelievably aesthetically incomparable. Oh and the city’s nice too! Castles everywhere you looked. The Czech republic has the highest castles per person capita in the world. Huge cathedrals, castles, statues, Prague is just stunning. We felt very well to do when we visited Betramka, the house in Prague where Mozart stayed when he was in town.
Finally after many days of being enchanted by a fairytale town that honestly looks like the backdrop of Shrek, we went to Frankfurt for a night. I was fed a hearty German meal by a lovely blonde waitress who forced me to eat it all or she threatened to cry. And German breakfasts! Well I’d always though chocolate cake was taboo for brekky but now I can always prove that theory wrong!
Then we went to Macedonia for a few days (where some family is from) where strangely enough I was ‘encouraged strongly’ to eat as well. This is a concept that I’m sure people with any European background is all too familiar with. The scenerio: a lovely lady grabs around your wrist and gasps disapprovingly, "Ah!! Annnnnni, why too thin?!" and then sits you down on a table and brings out many lushious dishes that of course are just beautiful, but if you eat everything you really will need to go to hospital. Ah, the fetta cheese, the stew dishes, the honey desserts, even just that oil and vinegar with fresh bread is awesome. That’s why you don’t pack too much overseas, because you need that spare weight limit for yourself and your newfound kilos.


THE LOVE BOAT
The Love Boat made me realise that everything comes at a cost. And a free holiday to Europe is no exception. Namely, the sacrifice of your sanity is taken, along with most of your feeling of space too. Families fight, people need space. I am one of those arty individuals who very much like her space. So picture this family unity with water bobbing. For four nights.

I discovered that cruises are not really for our age group. Infact, there is a big ‘missing generation’ to the calibre of people who attend cruises. Omit anyone who isn’t from a lawn bowls club, a professional cabaret dancer, old people travelling and families, of course beautiful families with lots of KIDS, and you have the people who were on the Greek Aegean cruise I went on.
Why did I dub this cruise the Love Boat? Because it felt like the antithesis of love- bobbing along in a little cabin with fake windows for 120 hours, and the nightly entertainment was so corny it made me smile then feel so embarrassed.
The entertainers would especially love wearing white pants and a little song that attracted a whole generation of people to act in a way that I considered very different from my way of life- "THE YMCA" by the Village People.
Also a speciality was the pumped up cabin crew dancing to "In the Navy" and loving it a bit too much. After the MC would invite all the guests to the disco to party the night away. Errrr… disco. Unfortunately I encountered active use of this cringe term many a times at resorts. My sister and I would sway to the disco, whatever drinks we had being exacerbated by the feeling of the boat swaying. A sixty five year old "disc jockey" catered for all the "young people" with playing MC Hammer or the M people. Hmmm, it was times like these that I missed home a lot.

POLICEMEN THAT BLUE HEELERS PRODUCERS COULD ONLY DREAM ABOUT
Saw beautiful Rome. Saw absolutely even more beautiful polizia. All young tanned and wearing navy blue Armani police uniforms. (Unfortunately I didn’t find out) In Rome, I imagine the crime rate would be quite high, and popular with mainly female offenders.
I had my wallet stolen outside the Vatican City. Um… for anyone that might know me who is reading this, ok yes I might have possibly LEFT it in a taxi or POSSIBLY lost it myself, but it also may have been stolen.
Of course, I had to cancel my cards, all that. Oh and there was one other thing I had to do as well. I had to file a police report. Ah the woes, the tribulations, of having to go to three different polizia stations and talk to the officers.
So there I was in Italy penniless. Or so it would seem… And then the perks of being with parents became financially reaped!

AN AUSSIE IN THE LAND OF MARMITE

After Rome, off to London. Now here’s the lovely bit to have with your cup of tea. My family went home and I stayed in London that extra week. I stayed with my ex in the really Aussie part of London, Clapham.
It was so good to finally have space that I needed to celebrate, so that’s all I did, just visited pubs and clubs (went to an awesome club called Pacha where even the girls got felt up before you got in) and discovered a little street called Oxford Street where I spent part of what could have been most of my superannunition money on a deliciously gorgeous trench coat.
Yep it was an intense week, so intense. Imagine a share-house of four Aussies so keen to rip up the town. So many pounds later and with a searing all week long hangover, I was almost relieved to board the plane to nice, quiet Geelong.

Unfortunately, an evil spirit possessed me on the plane ride back and I am ashamed to say that I had at least 3 glasses of French wine. Because of this, I became very good friends with a Chinese boy, who I know will be the next successor to Bill Gates. I also struck up a correspondence with an 80-year-old darling from Bendigo called Bettie. God bless this old lady sitting next to me, it’s so nice when old people offer you hard-boiled lollies. Truly was she like a magician, every time I sneezed she would produce a starched pressed handkerchief from her pocket. Ah gods bless! I have much respect for this generation that carries around at least 7 handkerchiefs in their front pocket. God I’d live that long too if I wore a bulletproof vest like that too!
© Anna Kosmanovski Feb 2006
foxyannie49 at hotmail.com

Anna studies journalism at Deakin University (Melbourne)

Behind the Bar
Anna Kosmanovski


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