It’s pronounced Chilivi… apparently

So I’ve been on my holidays to Greece, Zante, Tsilivi Beach Hotel to be precise… Other vacations are available. I apologise for any dodgy links to the a certain film!

I was tempted to do a Shirley Valentine but couldn’t for several reasons… 
I didn’t win the holiday,
I’m happily married,
Hubby and kids came with me,
I didn’t go to Mykonos,
My name is not Shirley!

Anyway I had such a lovely week, I named each day…..

Find your feet Friday
Sun burn Saturday
Sore leg Sunday
Manicure and market Monday
Turtle cruise Tuesday
Wed…couldn’t think of any thing that wasn’t rude! 
Too much to drink Thursday
Fly home Friday

I wanted to share a few of my moments with you and if I write them down I can always re-read it to remember because you can guarantee I’ll forget!

We arrived late evening and waited patiently at reception while the receptionist argued with a group of seven 50/60 something ladies trying to book into their rooms.

The problem was they had 3 rooms and we all know that means that there should be 2 and a bit people to each room.

There were a few heated moments I can tell you, while they decided who should be dissected to make it work!

I’m reckon they would be tempted to do a Shirley Valentine. One had a face like she was sucking lemons though. Pretty sure  no one was going to press her olives!

So we get to our rooms, which were huuuge. Hubby was very tired so we had an early night. He went into the bathroom to do his ablutions and I nearly had a heart attack when he came out frothing at the mouth. I thought he had had a bloody stroke.

I was just about to make him smile, raise an arm or two and stick his tongue out when he told me real reason why he looked rabid.

He tried to do his teeth with my Travel Wash! Oh how we laughed as we danced gayly around the room bursting the sweet smelling bubbles that eminated from his face.

We were both knackered after that and fell into bed exhausted but oh so clean!

During the holiday the kids traits came out.  My blue one likes to do his own thing and this was his plan. His life usually revolves around football, eat, work, sleep, repeat.

It was kind of like this on holiday too although there was another shady activity taking place too. I only know this as he pulled his wallet out of his pocket and out fell a lighter!

He knows my feelings on the subject so there was a very awkward 3 seconds, some dodgy glances and then he legged it up the road!

He came back shortly afterwards. It hasn’t been mentioned since!

Now my pink one has a new boyfriend so I was preparing myself for tears and tantrums. I don’t often say this but thank god for social media. It meant that the two love birds could face time each other 17 times a day.

Her mood is dictated by how many texts her bf sends her in an hour.

Any thing over 500 is fab, she’s well happy. Between 200 and 499 and she’s a bit stroppy. Between 100 and 199 she has a face like a ripped dap. Under 100 and god help anyone in a 10 metre radius. She is out for blood and wants to go home.

I’ve learnt not to make conversation during this period and avoid eye contact for 5 minutes. Ten dings later, numerous clicks on her part and it’s drama over, she is back in the room all loved up again. Bless.. We’ve all been there!

She got through the week fairly unscathed in the lurve department but she did give me one cause for concern.

The pavements are so high and my pink one isn’t, we needed 3 Greek locals and a safety winch to get her down each time we needed to cross the road. Hubby then had to have an Ouzo for medicinal purposes only of course.

Now I learnt a few things about my hubby this week too. The boys had a table tennis competition…Hubby insisted on trying to prove his alpha male status, even making out he was world ping pong champion in 1974. The blue one wasn’t impressed.

Hubby’s competitive side came out again during round 2 of the general knowledge quiz, the film and TV section. The pink one was writing the answers. I’ve never seen two people argue so vehemently over a red felt tip pen before!

I’ve also discovered he has a weird fetish to turtles, likening them to sexy bond girls when they come walking out of the water. I spent the rest of the week trying to walk like sexy turtle to turn him on… Not easy!

Not many people know this about me but I used to have a recurring dream about a turtle that would walk around. Perfectly within the bounds of normality I hear you say but this turtle had the face of the grandma from Waltons.

Yes I still have them occasionally and no I haven’t had therapy!

Now I do love Shirley Valentine, what a woman, but not wanting to do a SV in its entirety I thought I’d reenact some of it… Do what makes you happy I say.

I tried to find a little cove with a parasol so I could find my own greek rock to talk to. Problem was I wasn’t prepared to pay 8 euros for the parasol, despite it coming with two sun loungers, so I sat by the pool and talked to an ashtray. I called him Derek. He didn’t say much but then why would he… We had nothing in common.

On Turtle cruise Tuesday guess what we did?  We saw lots of the little beasts and each time we saw one there were 150 brits all going “look, over there!” and scaring the little reptilian cuties away. I had a lush time bobbing around in a sea the colour you can only dream of…and not a turd in sight.

I had a mini Titanic moment in that I sat with my legs wrapped round the flag pole at the front bit of the boat (don’t know what it is called).

I did try to create the epic scene by stretching my arms out and waving my hair around in a carefree Winslet manner but pink one was feeling a bit sea sick so I had to stop, mainly because I didn’t want blue (she’d had a slush puppy) vomit down my cossie.

I don’t think the boat was called Noah but I do know the tour guide was called Trevor from the holiday company that rhymes with screwy … And a fine job he did too.

And I can assure you nobody kissed my stretch marks. It would have taken far too long to kiss them all, plus the fact I would have punched their lights out anyway.

It’s been a good week all told. I’ve eaten my body weight in feta cheese and drunk way too much.

Now Shirley wanted to drink a glass of wine in the country where the grape is grown but I’ve had sex on the beach, sex in the sea, sex behind the bar, sex in the bedroom, sex on the bus… I’ll leave you to decide which were alcohol based!

I’ve tried to work my way through the cocktail menu in the happy hour with help from the pink one. At 4 euros each you can’t blame us for trying!

So now I’m writing my blog on the plane, while I can remember everything I wanted to tell you and trying to block out the baby screaming two seats behind me, and I have just realised that I forgot to tell you the most important bit of news ever….

I started my HRT this week too. I’ve been a truly mardy cow lately so went to docs who gave me the cure. It took her ages to find one mind as all her usual ones were unavailable due to Brexit!

It really isn’t a good idea to deny emotionally challenged, feisty women of their miracle drugs purely because a bunch of idiots can’t agree on a few points in a big building in London. I truly hope Mrs M isn’t menopausal and if she is, kudos to that woman.

Any way Doc Hughes found a magic potion to help me, I ran to the chemist excitedly only to be told that the chemist could only order so many packs a month (again due to Brexit) so I waited till the next day along with the other stressed ladies, to pick up my little paper bag and I took it on hols with me.

I didn’t want to start it straight away in case there were awful side effects like I grew a third tit or something but by Wednesday I couldn’t contain myself any longer.

I took 1 and waited…. and waited… and waited. Its day 4 and although I did feel a bit sexy on Thursday (probably due to the number of cocktails drunk), I am still waiting to feel like a new woman like people say I will.

Let’s just say they had better work soon as otherwise my hubby might do his own version of SV and move abroad alone! He’s always dreamed of owning olive trees.

He can press his own then….!

Anyway, I’m home now, with lots of happy memories and no 3rd boob in sight. I can finally flush the paper down the toilet and can’t wait for chips and egg…