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I guess it shows how quickly school holidays come around that I had barely finished writing about our last trip when it was time for another one. I had resolutely decided that for May half term this year, we were going to go to Aviemore. We used to go fairly regularly but it has been more than five years. From Edinburgh, it is a manageable drive with children, particularly with the compulsory pit stop at House of Bruar. Aviemore was our final holiday before the Covid lockdown. Some people went to Barbados in February 2020 but not us. We went to Aviemore and froze our butts off. All I had to carry me through the Covid holiday moratorium was the memory of Freddo toppling off a sledge and bawling his eyes out.
I digress.
My slight lack of enthusiasm for Aviemore was perhaps reflected by the fact that a few weeks prior to half term I had not actually booked any accommodation there. With hindsight this was a mistake. Somewhat out of the blue, Freddo asked if we could go to Aquashow Park again. The main part of his argument appeared to be centred on Article 31 of the United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child which recognises “the right of the child to rest and leisure, to engage in play and recreational activities appropriate to the age of the child”. I cannot believe this is what they teach kids in school nowadays. Freddo had been unable to play in water parks in Singapore because of his knackered ankle thus depriving him of his rights. The kid made a strong business case although I could have done without the 60 page powerpoint slide deck.
I said I would think about it which Freddo took to mean a strong yes. In the ensuing days he repeatedly puppy-dog-eyed me as he asked if I had booked flights yet. He offered to pay as he has £600. I told him it cost more than £600 and he looked sad. Very sad. That kid is an emotional terrorist.
I had a look at options and concluded that none were great given crack of dawn flights being against my religion. But somewhat incredibly, British Airways had availability with Avios on the 9:35am Saturday flight from Heathrow to Faro in Club Europe. And they had availability with Avios on the 6:25 pm Friday flight from Edinburgh to Heathrow in Economy. Mine for 73,000 Avios and £218. School resumed on a Thursday and there was one realistic option coming home which was with my airline nemesis – Jet2. An 11:05am direct flight from Faro to Edinburgh. But on looking at booking this, I discovered an issue. Of the 18 available seats, the only ones together were in the emergency exit rows. We reached the painful conclusion that we would need to fly back to Glasgow instead as that flight had one block of three seats together.
Before booking, I checked with Kermit that he definitely wanted to go to the Algarve given how bad his hay fever had been last May at Aquashow. He did indeed. On a whim I checked the Edinburgh flight one final time and some of the emergency exit row seats had been taken, freeing up a pair of seats together. After a long team talk, Kermit was willing to sit in an aisle seat, two in front of me. So I paid €556.80 for four tickets, €52.88 for one checked bag and a ridiculous €70.92 for the four least bad seats left on the plane.
We needed a hotel at Heathrow but I have got that one down pat. Last year I reached exulted platinum status with Accor. So I used a suite night upgrade to book a prestige suite at the Sofitel for £305.90 which was some way cheaper than the £442 they were seeking for two rooms.
Parking at Edinburgh Airport was a tolerable £53.99.
The final piece in the puzzle was of course booking Aquashow Park Hotel. Fortunately, we appeared to be a week before English half term and four nights in a family room (two connecting rooms) were mine for €1,412.99. This included entry to the water park, breakfast, and a €67.50 daily add on for the buffet dinner.
And that was us booked for half term with only two weeks notice. Talk about flying by the seat of your pants.
The only packing issue we had was that Mrs Froggee could not find her special first aid kit. She had looked everywhere. But I know Mrs Froggee better than she knows herself. Mrs Froggee would probably accept this grudgingly, but it does not mean she likes it:
> When did you last have it, asked I.
> When we went to Asia.
> Could you have left it in Asia?
> No I remember laying it out in Hong Kong to be packed.
> What does it look like?
> It is a British Airways White Company pouch.
> Ah hah! Where did you stash the eight British Airways White Company pouches we got on the last trip?Up we went to the attic where it transpires Mrs Froggee has a bag she keeps in the eaves stuffed with such treasures. After checking several White Company pouches, she found the first aid kit. “Clever husband” said Mrs Froggee awarding me a gold star. I immediately spoiled it by muttering “I married Crazy” resulting in two demerits.
All packed, we met the boys at school on Friday afternoon. It was glorious with the weather forecast being 20 degrees and sun for several days, if there was ever a time to holiday in Scotland it was now. Oh well. It took about 40 minutes to get to Edinburgh Airport where they actually had parking spaces available close to the terminal and check in was a breeze albeit British Airways had sneakily moved their desks without informing me. At the desk, the agent looked at me, looked at my children and looked at Mrs Froggee. He volunteered that the children take after their mother much more than their father. I pointed to Kermit and suggested he resembles me. The guy politely agreed and nodded at Kermit while giving the internationally recognised sign for “he is not your father”.
Freddo needed to pee prior to Security and utilised the toilets positioned with weak-bladdered children in mind. Security was uneventful except for a toddler running into the back of Mrs Froggee’s legs. Mrs Froggee apologised for not having eyes in the back of her head and the parents apologised for not having an extra pair of arms. The toddler sat on her backside looking nonplussed.
We went to the British Airways lounge which conveniently we were able to use as a result of my former-best-friend Mr McToadrick gifting both Mrs Froggee and me silver status after a 6,000 tier point travel year led to him claiming gold guest list status just in time for British Airways to lift the bar making requalification unlikely. I am in two minds about upgrading Mr McToadrick to ex-former-best-friend status but it is too much of a mouthful. Maybe if he requalifies next year.
We had dinner in the lounge which was okay but obviously pie based. Despite there being two new (to me) flavours of pie, I am fed up of British Airways pies. Freddo peed a further three times in the lounge. He also left his water bottle horizontal on the seat with the lid not secured properly which resulted in us attempting to start the holiday early by accidentally turning our area of the lounge into a water park. Mrs Froggee fessed up and the lady with the mop could not have been nicer about it. Our flight was a smidgeon late which I call early in British Airways parlance. Boarding was a mess as always with the tensile barriers blocked off and the waiting passengers then obstructing the passage of others through the terminal. The icing on the cake was the agent in charge of the boarding signage leaving the “boarding groups 4-9” sign unsecured. It was promptly knocked over, walloping a lady on the leg. She did not seem amused.
Obviously Freddo peed on the plane too. He has taken over Kermit’s role as CUE (Chief Urination Officer). Anyway we were at the gate at Heathrow at 8pm. Thankfully our bag had been checked through, so off to the Sofitel we went. We found out that the sweet shop there has closed and the boys reacted as if there had been a death in the family. There was a hefty queue for check-in but it was dispersed quickly. I presented the receptionist with Accor gift vouchers that I had bought in the Black Friday sale. Freddo, being Freddo, presented her with a pop-up card he had made for the Sofitel staff. She preferred Freddo’s offering to mine but managed to get her manager to process the gift vouchers.
We went to our suite where the sofa bed had been made up and a rollaway bed set up as requested. It was most acceptable with a w/c off the hallway for the boys’ nighttime peeing and a separate bedroom for the grown-ups. Kermit guessed correctly which hand I had hidden a scrunched-up tissue in and won the larger sofa bed. Freddo and Mrs Froggee had a disagreement about the shower temperature resulting in him flooding the bathroom, Mrs Froggee getting very frustrated, and me consigning Freddo to bed under threat of us flying back to Edinburgh the very next morning. He was out like a light.
Kermit followed an hour later and we were not far behind although disconcertingly we then heard a noise that literally sounded like someone being murdered. I can only guess our neighbour had a bad dream but I could not believe the sound proofing was so bad. But that was the only noise we heard so maybe they did murder him? We all vaguely slept. My Apple Watch claimed that I had 7 hours 28 minutes of sleep that night (1h40m REM, 4h44m Core, and 1h4m Deep). Most of the ten minutes I was meant to have been awake resulted from Kermit being unable to find the light switch for the w/c which had counterintuitively been placed some way from the w/c and looked nothing like a light switch to an 11 year old.
The next morning we got up ever so marginally earlier than normal and went to the Club Millésime lounge for breakfast. It was just us and an attendant which was a bit weird. The offering was acceptable. We missed the fact that we could have requested a full cooked breakfast free of charge from the menu but it may well have taken longer to arrive than would have been optimal. If you exclude the time I forgot to put in a fresh Nespresso capsule, I had the worst coffee I have ever tasted from the bean to cup machine there. I decided to try and add an espresso shot to it, at which point the reason for the bad coffee presented itself as the bean hopper had jammed. The attendant had gone into hiding so I gave up. She reappeared after a while so I mentioned the broken machine. She said she would get me a coffee but I politely declined saying we were just leaving. As we left the lounge, she returned holding a coffee for me. Mrs Froggee, having had her fill of tea, was keen to go so I remained uncaffeinated.
Check out was immediate and I was delighted to discover that I had not been charged the expected £35 for the rollaway bed. I would have stayed longer in the Sofitel but Mrs Froggee wanted to go to Boots to buy toothpaste for Freddo and was concerned that the plane might leave early without us. Security was super quick, Boots was visited, emergency sandwiches were bought and we then aimed ourselves towards gate 21. We actually had enough time to pop into Galleries South to fill up our water bottles and make strategic peepee.
According to the agent at gate 21, our flight was “rammed with babies but they seemed pretty well behaved”. There was a special mention for one that had just flown 22 hours from Australia. This seems a long way to go for half term at a water park.
Weirdly the flight was on time. The jet bridge was one of Heathrow’s longest and I commented that we might be walking to Faro. “Really?” said Kermit. Sucker! Once we had all boarded, the cabin crew went down the plane handing out infant life jackets. Always keen for a freebie, Freddo asked what they were. “Oh, it’s so babies can enjoy the water park too” said I. “Really?” Said Freddo. Sucker!
Breakfast was to be served, albeit at closer to lunch time. Having emotionally committed to the smoked salmon, row 5 meant I got the full British. Sad face. The boys ate reasonably well so there was no real need for the emergency sandwiches although I had mine as I like to keep my body mass index above 19. Some babies screamed. Most did not. But, when a baby screams on a plane now, my overriding thought is thank goodness we are past that stage.
I had been looking forward to using a jetway at Faro given that we were on a civilised airline but we got bused to the gate. This made me sad. We then encountered the longest immigration queue I have seen at Faro although to be fair, it took 37 minutes which exceeded my expectations. And it was nothing like as bad as some of the photos I have seen recently. Obviously Kermit wandered off to pee because he did not want to give up the CUO title easily. He then started blowing his nose a lot. Uh oh pollen. Many things in life make me despair but the fact that someone had been drinking a can of Heineken in the immigration queue and then decided to throw the empty on the floor when (s)he reached the desk flabbered my gaster. Our bag was waiting for us, as was our driver from Yellowfish Transfers (€66.67 for the return transfer) and we were off.
I am not sure why but drivers are invariably fascinating. Ours was born in Mozambique which made him Portuguese but he grew up in Johannesburg. Divorced with sole custody of two young girls he moved to the Algarve a long time ago for a better life. He sniffed a couple of times so I asked him about pollen levels. Starting to rise apparently. He said he had been fine for his first few years in Faro but then one year, he became really bad and ended up in hospital, unable to breathe because his airways were so constricted. He got a scratch test for a dozen common pollens and reacted to almost all of them but olive was the worst. “I love eating them but the trees are b@$tards”. He has thankfully not been hospitalised again. And we were at Aquashow Park hotel at 2pm. €10 tip for hanging around the airport for us for longer than the drive took.
The receptionist was friendly and said the magic words being “your room is ready”. After eating the illegally imported emergency cheese and ham sandwiches and a couple of cookies I had borrowed from the Sofitel Club Millésime lounge and then liberally applying sun screen, we were off to Aquashow Park.
Not much happened at Aquashow that has not happened before. We went six times in four days. Freddo did not even think about attempting the more full on rides this time. Kermit wanted to do the water coaster and amusingly changed his mind just as the attendant pushed down the restraint. Click. Too late sucker! He was fine. Well I say he was fine but by the end of the day, he was doubled over with stomach pain. I was actually worried something was up this time. He ran off to the toilet. He was there a very long time. I eventually went to check on him just as he flushed and emerged. 100% cured. That boy… With hindsight he did us all a favour releasing the beast a few hundred yards from our hotel.
We did bravely venture out of the Aquashow bubble once and had lunch at Os Agostinhos. This involved crossing a perilous main road and we had a modest domestic dispute while debating the safest place to do so. The restaurant was full of Portuguese families on account of it being Sunday. I thought this was a good thing but after being seated we were completely ignored. Even Mrs Froggee’s legendary ability at summoning waiting staff failed her. The boys were apoplectic. Eventually the boss came over looking confused and asked us if we had ordered. He was annoyed at his waiting staff. I saved the day by letting the boys have 7UP to drink. The food came fairly quickly once ordered. The bill was €71.50 for a lot of meat, far too many fries and some salad.
Mrs Froggee lost her senses as we crossed the road on our way back to the hotel and for reasons beyond me listened to Freddo, whose hand she was holding, when he said “let’s cross”. I had my heart in my mouth as I watched the two of them play real life Frogger. They narrowly missed being hit by an oncoming car and, now fully committed, they probably had no choice but to keep running, and just made it across without being hit by a car coming in the other direction. As far as I could see, neither car braked but one found time to sound his horn.
For those who are not fans of eating in hotels I would point out that nobody ever got knocked down going to the in-house buffet. Speaking of buffets, I had prepaid for the dinner one as it is pretty decent. The first night it was present and correct but then disaster struck. Occupancy was low so we were presented with a limited set menu as the contractually agreed alternative. This involved four courses, or five if taking them up on their offer to have two half portions of the main course options and the first night we were still eating at 8:30pm which was way too late for us.
In.
Di.
Gestion.We learned our lesson and only had (one) mains and dessert the next two nights.
The next day, back at the park, Kermit ditched me halfway up the steps to the free fall slides but then subsequently did it once. I kind of like the whoosh sensation so went down them a few times until the friction took the skin off my back where the nobbly bits of my spine made contact. The scabs were ouchy. I got no sympathy from the boys with Freddo even going so far as telling me I had nobody to blame but myself because “we didn’t make you go down it”. Grrrrr.
The boys went in the wave pool for the first time ever. I left them to it. It then turned out that Kermit had been unable to paddle his inflatable ring out of the deep end and got greener and greener as he bobbed up and down. He eventually extracted himself but was in a bad, bad way. Lunch plans needed to be changed. But at least breakfast was not revisited.
Freddo perfected going down the foam slides cross legged like a meditating Buddha. The lazy river was renamed “pirates” where the boys pleasingly worked together on a two man ring to achieve a common objective. Less pleasingly, that common objective was to splash the living daylights out of me. And on no account to let me pass. I got past them once and Kermit immediately tipped me backwards off my ring. I narrowly avoided hitting my head on the bottom. Well played Kermit. As the boys were fighting at the exit I was summoned by the life guard. I thought we were in trouble. “Did you come to the indoor park before” said she. “Yes, in October”. “I remember your children. They are cute.” Oh. Ggrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
The next day when I asked the receptionist at the hotel to reissue the boys’ entrance bands for the park, I tried to explain how mean and annoying they were and how they had tried to murder me on the lazy river. Typically Freddo had nobbled her the day before, giving her a hand made card so she would not hear a word against them. Apparently the receptionist had been having a bad day and it brought warmth to her heart.
Mrs Froggee graced us with her presence on three of our six visits but, having learned from prior occasions where she became Mrs Groggee, did not go near any of the attractions. She did eat ice cream. And went shopping. We are now the proud owners of four €16 Aquashow towels in pink, blue, green and orange. Mrs Froggee bought a new swimming costume as apparently they had better designs there than at home. She tried it on and compared it to her existing costume in the store. But then, once she was back at the hotel, declared it too small. No returns said Aquashow Park – quite reasonably in my view. And €39.90 burned.
On another of Mrs Froggee’s visits I had apparently lost the locker key that morning. I emptied the towel bag. Not there. I checked the desk in the hotel room. Not there. Mrs Froggee checked the bag again. As she did this, I noticed the locker key attached to her wrist. I tried not to bring this up at every opportunity but I am a weak man. It was totally worth the demerits.
Having introduced Freddo to a tile game called Rummikub some time ago, in an attempt to control screen time, Mrs Froggee played Freddo ten times of which I joined in for a couple. Freddo won all ten games and Mrs Froggee came second each time. Mrs Froggee is actually deceptively competitive and you could see her getting increasingly frustrated as she repeatedly got taken to the cleaners by an eight year old. Sometimes you are best not questioning things you do not understand that are to your advantage but I wondered why such a competitive woman would ever have married me. And then I remembered that I proposed to her a few weeks before she turned 30 when she was highly vulnerable. Sucker!
Anyway, the holiday was done. Kermit’s hay fever had not been too bad although I think we got lucky as pollen levels were apparently moderate, trending to extreme a few days after we left. Phew.
I had arranged to be picked up by Yellowfish at 8:15am so as to arrive at the airport a solid 2.5 hours before our flight. Of course, Freddo left a handmade card for the restaurant maître d’ with reception. Our driver was well on time and claimed to go by the traditional Portuguese name of “Del Boy”. Worth a €5 tip. I was expecting pandemonium at check in as Jet2 have several flights departing within 45 minutes. 15 desks were open and we walked straight up to one of them. I tentatively asked if there might be any seats together to be told that Kermit and I had been moved and were now sitting together. I was so delighted that I did not stop to grudge the €70.92 I had spent on seat reservations. Security only took a minute. Then we found out where everybody was at as the immigration queue stretched past the Security exit. Weirdly Kermit seemed okay about this. I was confused. Who is this child and what has he done with my son? Thankfully he needed the toilet having not needed five minutes earlier. Welcome back Kermit. Kermit then actually helped with the luggage. Sorry what? Part of the queue seemed vaguely optional as lots of people just walked to the front of the pre-queue which snaked to the stairs leading down to the immigration hall. But once in the hall, things seemed a teeny bit more orderly.
The queue moved impressively quickly and we were through in half an hour. A relatively mature couple did a full on queue jump right at the last but nobody objected as they looked panic stricken. Mrs Froggee thought the fellow might be having a heart attack. It was therefore somewhat unfortunate that this couple had battled their way to the front of the queue for the non-Schengen area as the immigration officer explained to them that they needed to be in the Schengen area. I thought the lady was going to cry as she went off looking for the door he had directed them to.
We made our way to the lounge where Kermit and I entered seamlessly using my physical Priority Pass. Whereas Mrs Froggee spent most of the available lounge time trying to log into her Priority Pass app. I went over to suggest that life was too short only to be blamed for her losing the correct QR code she had literally just obtained.
Sad face.
Mrs Froggee had enough time for two cups of tea and the boys had pancakes from the machine so harmony was restored. Our flight was on schedule and we left the lounge in time to drop €32 on a simple lunch from everyone’s favourite continental European bakery, Paul. I swear the prices go up each visit. Apart from being bused to the plane, the flight could not have been better. It left early. Freddo wanted to sit next to me but that was okay – Mrs Froggee could deal with Kermit’s sinus pain on landing. It was a bit of a baby bus but none of the babies came close to Freddo’s 2018 screamfest which saw us placed on Jet2’s no fly list for five years. And incredibly Freddo and I had three seats to ourselves.
Our flight landed on time and I was ecstatic when we were allowed to walk to the terminal building. I was less ecstatic when we were held in an immigration pre-queue in a corridor but all told, it took just under half an hour to get through. Our bag was waiting for us. I found the car first time. It was covered in dust as if to remind me how marvellous the Scottish weather had been when we were away.
We were home within half an hour and amusingly Mrs Froggee and Kermit both started sneezing as we turned onto our street. There’s no pollen like home pollen. Dinner was provided by Wagamama via Deliveroo. Another holiday where nothing particularly bad happened? Wowzers.
I forgot about the trip report for three weeks but last night, Freddo was playing in the garden and managed to roll his ankle again. As per protocol, he bawled his eyes out and I went out to the garden and picked him up. Carrying him back into the house I felt my back twinge and thought to myself I really must finish that trip report.
The end.
PS Hopefully I will see some friendly faces on Thursday. I will be easily recognisable as I am sure to be the fellow that goes up to collect the pair of business class tickets to Australia.
Very sweet of Freddo to offer to pay with his £600 [heart emoji].
Given the quick check-in and extra free seat, will Jet2 be removed from your nemesis list though?
‘olive was the worst. “I love eating them but the trees are b@$tards”’ I don’t really know why but this made me laugh a lot!
Glad you had such a good time and an excellent result getting Avios seats so late in the day. (Depending on your food preferences, I can highly recommend ordering an Asian Vegetarian meal out of Heathrow when travelling in Club. Delicious and it avoids being stuck with a fry up (or stodgy pasta if after 12:00).
+1 to Savage Squirrel above, that one liner about the b@$stard olive trees was sublime 😂.
Great that you’re able to make the HfP party next week. I’m 6’5 and have the bleary eyes of a parent to a newborn, so I shouldn’t be too hard to spot 🙂
Tricky one on Jet2. I’m still a bit bitter about the bait and switch they pulled on us when we disembarked at Edinburgh via a jetway only to then have to take the steps down from the jetway to two waiting buses. They packed us all in like sardines, waiting until everybody was off the plane before either bus drove to immigration. The way it worked out, we went from front of plane to last ones off the second bus.
The olive tree line is even better if you heard it in a strong South African accent. Luckily neither of the boys did!
Hello again Nico. I would offer you parenting tips but the main one would be do better than me…
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