Dan was off to Mozambique with his friend and family for a week which involved a visa which actually turned out to be a quick and easy process considering all the hassle we've had doing everything else since arriving in South Africa, one visit to get the info, a trip to the bank to pay the fee, 2nd visit to drop off completed form and proof of payment and the final trip in the afternoon to collect the visa. At the same time we were doing this Peter announced he was off to Denmark in August, then the UK for a week, Alex had tripped and broken his arm, we were recovering from 5 solid weeks of visitors and I was feeling sorry for myself.
It's been non stop, sort this, sort that, change address, cancel accounts and I've had a hissy fit, a strop and booked 2 flights for me and Alex to the UK for a week. I started packing as soon as the flights were booked, located UK Sim card, scraped up £20 in pound coins, loaded the laptop with films, called family and friends and made arrangements, asked MIL to insure her car.
Spent the day before the flight cleaning the house while Peter and Alex went on a 8 hr trip to take Dan and his mate to Nelspruit to meet his mates parents for their 12hr road trip to Mozambique. Monday all the bedding was washed and beds re made and as I've been told off for chavving up the golf estate, I had to use the tumble dryer.
Alex spent the entire day pestering me 'what time are we going?' 'how long now?' and eventually at 4.30pm we left for the airport, cases cling wrapped, I get a touch of the 'I hate flying' and a touch of guilt about all the money (we don't have) I've spent on the flights, upset about leaving Peter, this will be the longest time we've been apart and the fact that this is the first time I've done such a big journey on my own...
...but what could possible go wrong?