Stories from the Suitcase...Maroochydore

So guys, new layout, new blog, new direction...why the hell not?!


We're going to show you how real people travel.

I don't know about you guys but I luuurve to read about other people's trips away, be it for the holiday of a lifetime or just a weekend away.  I especially enjoy hearing about nightmare holidays.  It's how I get most of my survival tips.

We tracked down Alex @ Whoa Mumma for a guest spot to let us know how she survived the Easter long weekend.  Alex has a tonne of kids and yet manages to still get away occasionally (straight jacket stowed in glove box, I'm sure!)

This post should be called How I survived my Easter holiday.

I don't know if you guys follow my blog (IT IS AWESOME despite what you may have heard or read, recent laziness cast aside).  If you do, you'll know that in recent years I have been some what of a jet setter.  Hawaii, Japan, Vegas, heck even Christchurch...I've taken advantage of pretty much every Jetstar flight special.

But since popping out sprog number 4, I have been grounded.  Something to do with her screaming like a banshee whenever the wind changes.  Not the best companion for long haul flights. In fact, she's screaming her lungs out right now so I guess I better tend to Her Majesty's whims (4 teeth out in one week, she really is an over achiever).

Okay, I'm back.

What was I talking about?

Oh yes, the weekend from hell.

Hubs was going to do some training for his new job on the Thursday in Maroochydore.  Maroochydore is a mighty pretty seaside town in Queensland.

Free luxury accommodation in a one bedroom apartment.  He suggested that we all go up and spend the weekend together.  Because I'm always complaining that I never get to go away anymore.

Being the sleep deprived, bored idiot supportive wife that I am, I agreed.

Flying to another country with family in tow?  No worries.  Limited to whatever crapola you can fit into a suitcase.

Driving to another city with family in tow?

A bloody mission.  Portacot, pram, nappies, beach toys, blah, blah blah.

  At 4am on Thursday morning we set out on our road trip.  The baby, Miss 2 and 8 year old boy were pulled from their beds and packed into the car.

Let me now just say an almighty thank you to the Gods that invented in car DVD.  I always swore black and blue that I'd never get one but this little beauty kept these two quiet for 3 whole hours.

Amazing.  The fact that they were watching Austin Powers and now call each other 'sexy bitches' is irrelevant.

So we made it from the Gold Coast to Maroochydore in record time and found ourselves at our destination with a little dilemma.

What the heck was I going to do all day?  

We found the local radio station and they were all a flutter because a man- eating shark had been spotted on the local beach.  Hubs turned towards the beach and along with a dozen other JAWS fanatics (and the local TV station) stood on the beach waiting for a surfer to get chomped.

Took me about 15 minutes to figure out the date and that we'd been duped.  April Fools Day people.

Ugh.  Stupid sleep deprivation.

It was getting late (like 7.45am) so we dropped Hubs off at work and I took a few random turns, and found myself utterly and completey lost.

Sleep deprived, unable to check in until 2, with no GPS and 3 bored kids I did what any mother would do.  

Found a Hungry Jacks, fed my kids a nutritious breakfast of hash browns and lemonade, hit google and found out the way to Australia Zoo.

Saved!

I took a few more random turns, found the way out of Maroochydore and headed down the highway to Beerwah.

When I turned into Australia Zoo, I felt like Clark Griswald arriving at Wallyworld.

Lucky for me, it was open, so there was no Bindi nose punching incident.

Fabulous day out.  Kids loved it.  We saw tigers, elephants and bears, oh my!  Oh and yeah we watched the croc show.

I made inappropriate Steve Irwin jokes, threw in a few 'CRIKEYs' and got to pat a possum.

We left thoroughly exhausted and made our way back to Maroochydore.  A few random turns and I found the waterfront and we spent some time playing in a park.

We finally checked into our accommodation at 5 pm (because I couldn't find it, then realised it was 100 metres from the park we'd been playing in.  Doh!)

Hubs finished his training and I was ready for him to take over so I could have some 'me time' and start my holiday.

Bottle of wine ready.

He informed me that he was off to a work dinner at a swanky Thai restaurant.

Pleased I was not.  Several glasses of wine were downed and there may have been some expletives.

CRIKEY!

I don't know if you've ever taken your family on holidays in an upmarket, luxury apartment.

Never EVER book a hotel room if you have kids.  Nightmare.

You need at least one room to hide away in, so that you can quietly rock in the corner.

As it was, we had a spacious, uber trendy, one bed apartment to trash.

Which when you have an 8, 2 and 8 month year old to entertain, we did.

Cheese sprinkled all over the carpet amused the baby.

The 2 year old threw things off the balcony.

The 8 year old turned a lovely shade of green and proceeded to throw up and POO (one of those bugs that it comes out both ends) all over the lounge room for the rest of the evening.

Mummy drank wine.  Lots of wine.

And eventually passed out.

Daddy eventually came home from his dinner, saw the devastation and realised it was 'his turn'.

Let's just say Good Friday did indeed turn into Good Friday when Whoa Mumma was treated to the movies (Revenge of the Titans...crap, don't go), A NAP, lunch & dinner.  Delish.

Sunshine Plaza (across the road from our hotel) rocks.

I heart Maroochydore.

So yeah, eventually mummy got to relax and honestly, it was good to get away...all my complaining put aside.

Sorry for trashing the room Horton apartments.  The smell will come out of the carpet...eventually.

So what did I learn on this adventure?

When you get home you want to kiss the tiles and Thank God that you're home.

(Unless, you're halfway home on Saturday and pewk into a McDonalds cup and proceed to spend the afternoon making out with the toilet bowl.)

Being a mum is awesome.

Got a horror holiday story you need to share?  Maybe just to vent?  Drop us a line and spare someone else the nightmare (or give us a giggle!)