I have these fantasies of one day writing from the balcony of my tropical apartment, which will overlook the sea, or at least the pool. And while the delighted shrieks of children splashing below waft up to be intermingled with the cries of Kling-klings and the lazy wash of the waves on the beach, I shall beat out my magnum opus on my uber-powerful, featherlight, 2.75mm thin, touch screen, solid state, quad core, 656GB PadiMac, with ergonomic plastic cover. With this tantalising vision in mind, I spent £250 today, though sadly not in the Apple store, but just on bits and bobs to stick in a suitcase. Because, in a fortnight, just around this time (2050hr GMT), I should just be landing in Montego Bay, with said bits and bobs, assorted gadgets and most importantly my family.
I am incapable of leaving London entirely behind: I haven’t yet decided which camera to take with me and this is already causing some heated debate. Should I stow the compact camera for the happy-quickie-bore-your-friends-to death-on-one’s-return images or the paparazzi-lensed SLR monster, for those ultra-aesthetic-proto-Photoshop shots (try saying that after a Talisker!).
I do not have complete justification in taking my laptop; Facebook can always wait, but without Skype and Twitter I may contract a mental malaise. I fully intend to sleep for several days (and nights), and maybe some more. But once I stir from my bed, I’ll attempt the odd blog from the beach. I will probably then write and upload the 100 page script I’m beating out at the moment to the Script Frenzy website.
Maybe then I’ll have a swim, or I’ll just chill with the kids and my long-suffering spouse. Then again, if he manages to get his hands on an iPad2 before the holiday, I’ll bet that I won’t be seeing much of my family at all. I might just hear them whining at each other to “have a go” as they dangle from a hammock or sun lounger.
By the way, that’s what it looks like – just ignore the posing couple in the picture (Bob and Sheila from Arkansas). I’m sure they don’t look like that any more – nor are they still standing there. And I bet they are probably divorced by now. Actually I have no idea who they are – and I’m only joking about the divorce.
Anyway, this will be the first time I’ve been to Franklyn D Resort with my own kids. I’m filled with trepidation already – even to the point of having anxiety dreams about not getting to the airport! I should really be worrying about spending nine hours strapped in seats next to my offspring, who generally cannot sit still for more than five minutes. I’m honoured to announce that I will become godmother to my cousin’s baby son – which is the principal reason for journeying to Jamaica. It has absolutely nothing to do with having a rest, in a beautiful part of the word with the people I love. Honest.