This is just for a bit of fun. I was writing a blog post about the holiday me and my son took to England last year but, as ever, it was going on too long. To keep the word count down I started writing it in shorter, staccato sentences. The more I wrote the more it sounded like a hard-boiled crime story so I just went with it. See what you think.

10pm Perth. Its dark & windy  – kiss the Mrs goodbye at the airport and go through security – the boy likes going through the metal detectors. Gets a blast from it. Then we wait. I check the tickets 36 times. At midnight we board the plan for Kuala Lumpur and the boy falls asleep immediately – I can’t sleep – I have a can of Heineken and feel worse. They bring us a meal – beef casserole at 1 am? Reach KL and I navigate us to the right gate on no sleep – feeling sick now and the boy is tired and cranky. Then we wait. We board the plane for Heathrow and I doze for half an hour and feel a bit better. Me and the boy are bored, we sing along to the other-wordly jingle they use for Malaysian Airlines, we laugh a bit but it doesn’t last. Hours pass. We explore the outer limits of boredom.

Screen in the back of the seat – the little yellow airplane works its way over Europe. At last we fly over London. Moving up the path of the Thames we pick up the icons. Tower Bridge, Westminster, St Paul’s – glorious in the summer sun. Relief! We crane our necks to see more out of the little window.  We descend into Heathrow. Mounting excitement now. Normally my brother meets us at the gate but he’s in the South of France with his family so we fend for ourselves. Grab the luggage and get into a real London Black cab driven by a cheerful cabbie. “Gor blimey” accent intact. Reach the hotel around the corner from Heathrow and collapse into the room. They have decent teabags. Surprising. I make a brew…

Me and the boy go to the restaurant. I have a pint of bitter – he has a coke. We order, I have gammon. The boy tries it – he has never had gammon before – they don’t do it in Australia – he loves it and we swap plates. Gammon becomes a theme for the holiday. Just before dessert the boy goes drip white and says he needs to go to the room in a strangled voice. We fall asleep at about 8pm. I awake at 3am – a voice from the other side of the room says “are you awake Dad’? I groan.

What to do in a hotel room when you’re wide awake at 3:15 am? Wait. TV on low volume. BBC. Newsreader is looking older…

At 6 am we can’t take it anymore and set off. Shuttle bus to Heathrow and Piccadilly line all the way to King’s Cross. It’s Saturday morning, a nice summer’s day – the boy is taking it all in. Arrive at the station.  Forgot that there is a Cricket test Match on at Headingley AND it’s the first day of the football season .Train to Leeds is heaving but good natured. The boy is glued to the window all the way up. Have to be at Leeds by 12 to pick up hire car. Just make it. Black Astra. Drive to West Leeds – arrive at the boy’s grandparents. Loads of family there. NOISE!

Fish and chips for lunch. Greasy as hell! Disappointing. The boy tries a meat pie but shakes his head and puts it to one side. Struggle to stay up ‘til a decent hour. Fail. Asleep in spare room by 8. Again.

Next day the boy stays at Grandparents – I go to Wakefield to see old friends. Supposed to buy clothes in Leeds first – can’t shop without the Mrs.  I take 2 hours to buy a shirt no different to the one I’m wearing. Meet the mates in Harry’s bar! Good times – handshakes – even slaps on the back – we aren’t the hugging types. Beer, conversation, slot right back in. Jetlag creeps up on me and I zone in and out but make it through. Have a curry on Westgate. Chicken massala in the Bollywood  Lounge. Stay at mate’s house in spare room. Spend a long time in bed looking out of the window. Next day I walk around the old hometown of Wakefield. Never quite know what to feel.  Past my old house.  Nothing. Go back to Leeds. The boy didn’t mind me being gone. He’s older now. And he’s with family. Stay around Leeds for a couple of days catching up and going shopping with the list the Mrs gave me. Things are cheap – she’d like that. Me and the boy have a full English breakfast at a café in Armley. They bring him a cup of tea. He feels grown up.

Time to go and see my family in the Lake District. We make an early start before anyone is out of bed. His Grandparents wave us off from the upstairs bedroom window. Like two little kids looking for Santa.

I remember every inch of the way. It’s a nice drive, all countryside. Stop at a “Little Chef” but the boy is eager to get going. Arrive at Mum & Dad’s house. Do the old trick of ringing the doorbell and then I hide so it looks like the boy has arrived by himself. They love it. Kisses and hugs all round. Big meal that night. Sleeping normally now. Next day we go to Hadrian’s Wall with my Sister and her family. Drive up there is spectacular. We go up a misty mountain and feel like we are in the clouds. Find out later we were. Hadrian’s Wall not that great.  Sheep shit everywhere. Next day we go to York. Love it. Go to a “genuine” haunted house in the Shambles. The boy says he’s not scared but doesn’t stray far. Stop in at the Designer Outlet and buy a present for the Mrs. Missing her now.

Dads’s 80^th birthday. The reason for the trip. Has a great day. Means a lot to him that we are here but he doesn’t make a fuss. Too old school. Next day we walk around Windermere and have a curry after. Life should always be like this but isn’t. Leave the Lakes to go down to Salford. Leaving is hard – doesn’t get any easier. Meet my Uncle and Aunt. The boy has never met them before. Carvery, big lunch. Gammon crops up again. Good times – wish we could stay longer but we can’t. Back over the Pennines to Leeds. Starting to feel the pace a bit…

Me and the boy are up early and head to Alton Towers. It’s further than I thought. He wants to go on everything but too small for some of the rides. Thank God – they make the ones in Perth look like playground swings. Arrive back in Leeds exhausted. Next day is cruisey – I buy a load of sportswear – ironic – all I have done is eat & drink. Suitcase filling up alarmingly so I buy a sports bag for extra swag.

The Astra has gone back and we are waiting for the train to London. The boy bought “Dr Who Top Trumps cards” and we play a few hands. We pass through Wakefield Westgate and it’s still sunny weather – the old place doesn’t look too bad. Goodbye Wakey.  Arrive Kings Cross and we’ve got to get the connection to the Northern Line. Been dreading this bit – crowds, suitcases and a child in tow – it goes off alright though. The Travel Gods are smiling on us.

Arrive at my Brother’s house and pick up the key. He won’t be back ‘til tomorrow. We go out for pizza and the people coming home from work stream past us out of the Underground. Can’t get over how well dressed they all are. I lived here once – back in the 90’s. It’s smarter than it used to be.

Next day we go into London with my Brother. We do tourist stuff – Chinatown – London Eye- what have you. Brother must have done this a dozen times but he doesn’t complain. We walk by The Globe Theatre – months later the boy remembers this and aces his history test. London is a whole new ballgame for him but he takes it in his stride. He even starts reading the maps on the Underground and tells us when to get off.

At the fag end of the visit now. Tired of sleeping in spare rooms and living out of a suitcase. Missing the wife but sad to leave the old place. Mixed emotions.  Drag ourselves round London for one last sight-seeing trip. Pub lunch on Clapham Common – roast beef sandwich and a Pale Ale. Next day it’s raining and Brother drives us to Heathrow for the long goodbye. We wait.

Can barely remember the flight back to Perth. Head scrambled from too much to process and scotch to help me sleep. We spill out into the airport after who knows how long. Squinting into the West Australian sun. The wife is there – she is always there. Bless. An hour’s drive later and we are home. This isn’t travel – more like falling into a parallel universe.

I unpack and we have a cup of tea. I remember a cup of tea in a hotel room outside of London four weeks ago….