My 3 Favorite "S" words: Sun, Sand and Sea (Part 1 of 3)

Mallorca! (PART 1)

Well, I’m back in cold, rainy and grey Brussels after a nice trip to warm and sunny Mallorca. Unfortunately, Sylvia (the mom) could not come because her dad just returned home from treatment in the hospital and she decided the best thing to do was go to him in Germany and help him out in his house. When I first hear this news, I was a little worried because that meant I was basically going to be taking over the “mom job” in Mallorca, aka, no relaxation at all. Thankfully, Sylvia kindly offered me to invite a friend to come along and help out. I wanted someone to come who spoke German, so that I could keep up the German speaking/hearing throughout the trip. Vero, my friend from Austria, immediately came to mind. We had a blast in Antwerp (as you can probably see from the pictures) so we would probably have just a great time in Mallorca! Well, we did :)

Day 1 (The airport circus)

As you can probably imagine, going through a crowded airport with two screaming, crazy five and seven year old boys, a crying one year old baby, a stressed dad yelling in German and 6 suitcases to carry (one of them randomly having no wheels, and only a tiny handle, so it was extremely awkward to carry), is, well, a circus. I give Oli lots of credit for being brave enough to go through all that, and twice. The 6 of us must have looked like a very strange mishmash of a “family”, with Oli and the kids looking all like twins, just at different stages of growth, and then me who could possibly be an older daughter but my hair isn’t blonde enough nor my skin pale enough. Then there is Vero, who looks like a total opposite of any of the kids, with her almost black, curly hair and darker skin. One of the stewardess thought Oli was her husband, and we couldn’t help but laugh. But yes, it was definitely insane. Especially going through security, with me and Vero trying to lug all the 6 suitcases onto the conveyer belt, and then me, Vero and Oli passing the screaming Felix around like a hot potato so we could take turns taking our shoes off, then Niki trying to drag me into the scanner thing with him because he’s scared to go alone. All the while, the Spanish security people yelling, “Owny buggy! Owny buggy!” Me and Vero look at each other with the “what the hell?” look, until we finally understood that they wanted the baby stroller on another conveyor belt. So then we have to lug it somewhere else. Finally, when we have all made it through security and have the luggage packed on two trolleys, we take a deep breath…until BAM!! Niki was climbing on one of the trolleys and knocked the entire thing over, the suitcases going everywhere and the security people whipping their heads over to look. We pick it up, and Oli takes the boys to the bathroom. They come back and Jonas wants to ride on the trolley. I tell him no, but he gets on it anyway, and the whole thing slips from under him, crashing to the floor.. NOT AGAIN!! This is no lie people, this is all exactly what happened. All I can say is, thank GOD Vero was there with me, or I don’t think I would have been able to handle anything anymore.

Getting onto the plane was just a continuation of the 6 person circus, with the boys dragging their suitcases through the tiny isle over people’s feet, Oli yelling at the stewardess because there is no places for us all to it together (Ryan air is first come, first serve, so I don’t know what he was expecting) Everyone on the plane was starting at us, not only because we were yelling and obviously struggling, but also because we looked so mishmashed. Vero told me that the Spanish guy she ended up sitting next to asked her what the heck we were all doing together.

Well, after 2 hours of struggling through the airport, a 2.5 hour flight of Niki asking me every 5 minutes how high we were in the air, how far we’ve flown, and how much longer until we landed, and then a 15 minute bus ride to our car rental, and then an hour drive to our house, we made it.

 One really cute thing happened on the plane though. It was Felix’s first flight ever on a plane, and he barley cried at all! He actually smiled a lot, and seemed to really enjoy it. On my right there was an African woman with a baby boy on her lap. She obviously couldn’t speak French or English very well because when the stewardess tried to communicate with her to show her how to correctly strap the baby in, she didn’t understand and started taking off the baby’s shoes instead. Anyway, when we started our descend, Felix (who was sitting directly on the other side of the isle from the African baby) stared smiling and pointing at the baby, and then they both we looking at each other and smiling and almost laughing. It was the cutest thing.