So my mum said "let's do a family holiday". Seems simple enough. Not with our family. Nothing is simple.
I've been dying all week. Coughing up not one lung but both. My GP said "stay home and rest". I considered that but decided against it. I could rest in a fancy pants hotel room as well as I could in my own bed, right?
So I decided f*** it, I'm going. My sister Lisa wasn't so lucky. She couldn't move so she was out. Don had to stay home and look after her. Mum's friend Laurel was too ill to travel. We were falling like flies. But 10 of us made it to the airport (three only just). Ten of use boarded that flight.
And 10 of us reached the rock. Yay us. First impression. My God, it's huge. Far bigger and with far more character than I had imagined from the pictures.
You have to be there, right?
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