The week before we travelled

Boys, Flora, Tyler. Sunday 4pm at Smugglers Cove

Hmm, you will be thinking to yourself, as I whinge on about what a crap week it has been. Believe me when I say we really NEED the scene above after just one week of island living. Then it makes it all worthwhile and we shut up for a few minutes.

And then it's Monday again.

I really do love living on an island. So do the boys. Tyler most especially does. He is so 'home' it's not even funny but I'm just ready for a vacation now.  In fact if it does not happen in 72 hours time, I will simply implode and end up being a messy bloody pile of bones and bile next to three very bewildered boys.

In just one week, here is how wonderful our island is:

• Tyler took the boys to see Man of Iron at our fabulous repossessed cine complex. Someone got the showing time wrong in the newspaper. No movie. Very unhappy boys (all four of 'em). "No problem" says UP's "we have an empty cinema" and ran the movie just for my 4 boys. True story. This week.
• I cannot find star anise in the supermarket. "No problem" says little Spanish Raffealla the shelf packer and produces some from her handbag and then insists on giving it to me.
• James sails a whole weekend, meeting kids from all over the Caribbean. Every single thing is catered for. Free. My child is one happy, confident and privileged young man.
• I hang out with some mama's on the beach. Kids run up and down. Kayaking. Boogey-boarding. Jumping off jetty's. Paddling over to the other side of the bay and back again. They stay in the water for over 5 hours, only coming out to grab some sandwiches and cooldrink. Teenagers, tweenies and others come and go. Girls do handstands in the water, waving their little brown legs at us. Mama's carry on chatting keeping an idle eye on the free range kids.  We drive the 5 minutes home, blissfully warmed with sun and friends. This was Tuesday.
• We discover that 2 days before travelling to the States and South Africa, that the boys UK passports have expired. This means that we cannot travel to the US Mainland as the boys do not have a visa waiver.  Our connecting flights are from JFK. Big Oops.  I have a near meltdown. "This is the last bloody straw" I scream, seeing my holiday dissolve in front of me. Tyler is trembling. "No problem" says the Royal BVI Police: "We can give you a waiver in their BVI passports" and on the same day (today) organized it for us with lovely Miss Frett working overtime on a Friday evening to personally glue the visas into the passports. With a smile. She even gave us the renewal forms for when we get home (including the fedex bag they need to go in). Service and beyond.

As happy as I am here, I'm looking forward to wearing some closed shoes again. Not being bitten to death by bugs. No driving of trucks in 4x4 the whole time. No palm trees or rum cocktails for a whole 6 weeks. I'm looking forward to highways, manicured lawns, handing over the ironing along with a bit of grime and some city anonymity. Most of all we cannot wait to be with family and friends again.

So we leave on Sunday with 3 days in New York en route and then South Africa for 5 weeks - God, airlines, ferries and the US Border Agency willing. Boys have not been to SA for 3 years and are very excited. It's going to be wonderful

Just need to get through the next 72 hours. Bakeries. Banking. Ferries. Taxis. Flights. More flights. Even more flights and then New York early Monday morning.

Hey ho and off we go.