When I started this blog, I was worried I wouldn’t have enough to say. Okay, so I go away pretty much every school holiday, but would that really give me enough to write about? I could write a review of the hotel, tell a funny holiday story… but what about the time in between holidays? I clearly needn’t have worried. I never finished writing about Benidorm, and I barely started on Jamaica – and I’ve been away again since then! I still have a whole bunch of videos to add to YouTube and a review to do on Trip Advisor – and I have another holiday to go on in just over a week…! Clearly, regardless of the amount of material I have to write about, the amount of time I have to write it is the bigger issue. Much as I love holidays, writing and combining the two, life gets in the way. School runs, cleaning, washing, cooking, after-school clubs, not to mention work – blogging doesn’t get much of a look in! Even when there’s a break in the almost never-ending list of things I ‘should be doing’, I almost feel too guilty to blog, ‘cos there’s probably something else more ‘important’ that I ‘should be doing’ instead. But that is exactly why I like holidays so much! Holidays are the one time that I don’t feel guilty for doing something ‘unimportant’. On holiday, I don’t have to cook, clean, load the dishwasher or tidy up. Childcare is shared between me and my husband – and it’s so much easier because we don’t have the stresses and pressure of the usual time schedules. We don’t have to think about bills, work, appointments and all those other things that shouldn’t in theory take that long to take care of but still seem to occupy so much time in your head. We don’t have to be anywhere at a certain time – unless you count getting to the restaurant in time for dinner or making sure we don’t lie in long enough to waste the day! At home, if I have time off work, I can’t relax – if I’m not actually doing chores, I’m thinking about doing them, or thinking about something else I should be doing instead. But on holiday, it’s different – I physically can’t do anything about work or the house, so I don’t think about it. We’re all so much happier and more relaxed. I may well come back from a holiday physically exhausted, but mentally I’ve had a break, and I feel so much better!

Anyway, I’ll make it my mission to at least catch up on my last holidays before I go away this summer. With five weeks in Australia to write about when I get back, I’m going to have to make sure I’m up to date first. And all those ‘important’ things I ‘should be doing’ may just have to wait!

Sat stuck in traffic for an hour on the M25 the other day took me back to an almost-holiday-disaster the first time we went to Jamaica, about ten years ago. We had lunchtime or early afternoon flights – can’t remember which but, either way, they were late enough that we didn’t think it was worth getting an overnight hotel package. However, airport parking for two weeks was expensive, and not such good value without a hotel, so when friends offered us a lift to the airport, it was the perfect solution. They were already heading in that direction to visit family who lived near Heathrow – we just needed to get the train home. We left plenty of time – they normally advise you to check in three hours ahead of a long-haul flight, and we’d given ourselves more than enough time (or so we thought) for the under-two-hour drive to Heathrow. But then we came to a standstill. It wasn’t the crawling kind of jam you get when there’s roadworks or just due to the sheer weight of traffic – this was the not-moving-anywhere kind of jam that you know is down to an accident. We later found out that someone had jumped off a bridge – horrible. All we knew at this point, though, was that we had flights to catch, we weren’t moving, and I was starting to need the loo. The worst thing about those kind of jams is that you really have no idea how long you’re going to be stuck. At least with roadworks, you know you’ll get through eventually. With this, on the other hand, we didn’t know what had happened, when it had happened or how long before the road was cleared. I remember sitting for a couple of hours on a dual carriageway more recently, when eventually we all had to do U-turns and drive the wrong way to the nearest exit. And I’ve only just heard about the jam on the M26 last week, when the road was closed for four hours, and people were walking their dogs on the motorway. In the meantime, there we were, not knowing what was happening, panicking about our flights and needing the toilet more and more each second. Of course, this was in the days before iPhones and mobile internet, so we didn’t have any way of finding out any information. If I’d known how long we were going to be stuck, I’d have got out of the car and gone for a wee by the side of the road, but the thought of the car driving off while I stood on the hard shoulder with my knickers round my ankles was enough to stop me…! After a while, we started to realise there was a very good chance of us missing our flights. I was reading through all our insurance details, trying to find out if we’d be covered – it didn’t look like it. And what would we do? Could we reschedule our holiday? Could we get later flights? Would it be worth it? Just how much money were we going to lose? And how much longer could I last before wetting myself or taking the plunge with the hard shoulder? I could probably have lasted hours if there’d been a toilet nearby but the very fact that I couldn’t go made me want it all the more…

I don’t know how long we sat there in the end. My distorted memory says at least two hours, but it was probably nowhere near that. Suffice to say, though, that it was too long, and had us convinced we’d missed our flights. We started moving eventually, of course, and when we pulled up at Heathrow, we dragged our cases out of the car and ran, barely having time to say goodbye and thank you (nor thinking about how we’d get home if we had missed the flights). We couldn’t fault the airport staff, at least – we weren’t familiar with Heathrow, and had no idea where to go to check in, but a nice man saw us panicking and directed us to the right check-in desk. It had to be the first (and only) time we’ve got to the desk and there’s been no queue. But the lovely lady there reassured us that we hadn’t missed the flight, and that loads of people had been delayed due to the traffic jam, so we didn’t need to worry. Phew! I was nearly in tears by this point, mostly due to my excruciating need for the toilet. I think my bobbing up and down must have given me away, because the check-in lady pointed out the toilets for me and refused to check us in until I’d been!

I can’t remember much about the queue for security, once we’d finally checked in. But I do remember the sheer panic when we got through to the departure lounge and the screen told us to proceed immediately to the gate. Unimpeded by our cases, we ran along the moving walkways for the full ten minutes it took us to get to the furthest gate possible. We arrived at the gate to find it was empty. More panic – was everyone on the plane already? Would we have to face the embarrassment of walking through the plane to find our seats while everyone else sits there tutting and looking at their watches? Would we even be allowed to board? Just as we were looking around for someone to ask, another couple walked into the departure gate  – phew, at least we weren’t the only ones late. Then another couple, then a family, then more people. Soon, the departure lounge was full up. Basically, we’d got to the departure lounge just as the screen had shown the gate number. We’d probably been the first to see it – add this to our mad run to the departure gate, and we beat everyone else to it. We were actually EARLY.

So what did we learn? Mostly that an airport hotel is always a good idea. Even if the flight isn’t until lunchtime or later, driving up the night before takes away any panic about traffic delays. At least if you get stuck in a jam, you have all night to get there!

All was looking good. We had a ten-hour flight ahead of us the next day, so we’d booked into the Premier Inn at the airport. For once, we didn’t have an early flight – it was leaving around lunchtime – but the plan was to have a bit of a lie-in to give us the energy to get through the next day. The kids had their own beds, so there was to be no wriggling and kicking me in the back in bed (unless Lee had a strange night…), and they’d both fallen asleep quickly and easily. After the obligatory game of cards in the bathroom, Lee and I opted for an early night, hoping to wake no earlier than 8 o’clock, feeling refreshed. Ha!

It started going wrong when Finn (my seven-year-old) decided it was the perfect night to practise talking (and shouting) in his sleep. While hubby slept through (of course), I barely managed more than an hour of uninterrupted sleep before I was awoken to yet more unintelligible ramblings and the occasional yell. And at 6 o’clock, my ‘sleep’ finally came to an end when Dylan (my four-year-old) called plaintively from the bathroom that he had a tummy ache. We assumed, as you do, that it was wind or he needed a poo, and we sat with him patiently, eyes barely open, waiting for it to go away. Then he said he felt sick. Now he hadn’t been sick since around the time of his first birthday (and that’s yet another holiday tale to tell), and he’s never been one to complain. Lee and I looked at one another with undisguised panic. It was early, he was tired and hungry and excited – surely that’s all it was? We all get that feeling when we haven’t eaten – that gnawing in your stomach that feels like nausea. Add that to the butterflies feeling ahead of an exciting holiday. He wasn’t really ill, was he? Then he was sick.

It could have been worse. It was in the toilet. It didn’t get on his clothes (and thereby lies yet another holiday story). And it was barely more than a trickle. The sort of sick you do when you’re not really ill but trying anyway. Me being me, I’m straight on Facebook asking everyone what to do. We have a ten-hour flight ahead of us for goodness’ sake! But then I look at Dylan – he looks fine and he tells us he feels much better now. Maybe he’s okay – just a one-off? Maybe all he needs is some food in his empty stomach to take away the nausea? Lee and I quickly decide that we don’t want to risk going downstairs to sample the hotel breakfast in the restaurant just in case, so Lee is quickly dispatched to buy some food and bring it back to the room. My fear quietly subsides while he’s gone, as I watch the boys chatting and messing around without a care in the world. Dylan’s fine, nothing to worry about. Lee soon comes back with some panettone (interesting breakfast choice). Dylan eats some slowly, as instructed. Meanwhile, I’m feeling pretty sick myself with all the worry (or so I thought) and barely pick at my panettone. Then Dylan throws up again – plenty this time. There’s no escaping the fact that he’s ill…

At this point, all hell broke loose. What should we do? How ill was he? How would he (we) survive the flight? Would he still be ill when we got to Jamaica? Did he need a doctor? Should we cancel? And was that sicky feeling in my tummy stress or something more? Thank goodness for 3G – I was instantly on my phone looking at flights, insurance details, airline rules, etc. etc. Could we postpone and get the next available flight? Er, no. The next flight was three days away, which would give us precisely three full days in Jamaica before we had to fly home again – not really an option. That’s not even accounting for the fact that the flight was likely to be full anyway. Could we cancel? Well, yes, of course we could. But would we get our money back? Unlikely. There was no notice. It was hardly the sort of life or death situation that would convince an insurance company to pay out for. And how disappointed would the kids be? And, let’s be honest, me? Money aside, we’d been looking forward to the holiday for ages. I’d spent hours reading reviews on Trip Advisor and watching videos of the resort on YouTube. And, after a pretty tough year, I was really looking forward to a break from it all. Sun instead of the constant rain that the UK was still battling. All-inclusive food and drink instead of cooking, washing and cleaning. Days spent on sun loungers, in the pool, on the beach, in the sea, reading, relaxing. No stress, no worries, mon. Could I give all that up? If Dylan was properly ill, it was a no-brainer. We didn’t want to be somewhere without a doctor or put him at risk; plus it wouldn’t be a relaxing holiday anyway if he was ill. But what if it was just a one-off? Imagine if we cancelled the holiday, drove sadly home and Dylan was completely fine all week and never threw up again. We’d faced a similar-ish decision when Dylan was one (the other story) and both boys had been suffering from rotavirus – should we cancel our holiday to Lanzarote? Thank goodness we didn’t, because Finn threw up for the last time just before we left, and both boys were fine all week. Aaaaaaggghhhh, decisions, decisions!

Eventually, after watching Dylan for an hour or so and noting that he seemed fine in himself and didn’t have a temperature, we decided to bite the bullet and go for it. More decisions now, of course – did we tell the airline staff before the flight and ask their advice? Or would they refuse to let us fly in case we needed a doctor or passed the tummy bug to all the other passengers? If he was sick on the plane, could we pass it off as travel sickness? Could we feign surprise and act like he’d only just come down with something, or would Dylan argue and tell them it was the third (at least) time he’d been sick that day? What if he was sick in the check-in queue or security or at the boarding gate? Would they let us board? Would we sound convincing if we told them he always gets sick when he’s excited? Were we doing the right thing? And what were the chances of me getting to Jamaica without being sick myself? I’d already had to rush to the bathroom five times that morning, and it wasn’t looking quite so much like stress anymore…

In the end, we just had to go for it. Luckily, we hadn’t checked our cases in the night before as we usually do, so we were able to take out a change of clothes to put in the hand luggage (back to that other story again). Armed with wet wipes and sick bags (I collect them from planes, thank goodness!), we nervously packed our overnight things and made our way over to the airport. There was a long check-in queue, but we made it through unscathed. Security would have been quick if Finn hadn’t beeped when he went through the scanner and they hadn’t decided my bag was a good choice for searching. We made it through to the (revamped) departure lounge and quickly popped into Boots to buy some water (and those handy free plastic bags, just in case). All was fine. Dylan picked at the panettone and kept it down. It was just me who was rushing to the toilet every five minutes. Finally, we made it onto the plane.

A little while ago, I wrote a piece on airport hotels. As far as I knew at that point, the only hotels at Gatwick where you could walk from your room to the airport itself were the Hilton and the Sofitel. If you look on any of the airport parking/hotel websites (we always use Holiday Extras), you’ll see there is an abundance of hotels offering airport parking packages. The problem with these hotels is that they’re all five to ten minutes away at least, and you need to get a shuttle bus to take you to the airport in the morning. This is a major problem if you have a particularly early flight, as most shuttles don’t start until 4am at the earliest. That aside, the last thing you want to do when you’ve got two kids, four cases and eyebags the size of hand luggage from being up so early is try and squeeze everyone and everything onto a tiny, packed minibus. Those twenty minutes or so would be far better spent fast asleep than rushing, waiting around, hefting cases and trying to balance on the journey to the airport. Hence we’ve always opted for the on-site hotels for pure convenience. There are two main problems with the Hilton and the Sofitel, though. The first is the extortionate price. The second is fitting us all in the one room. We splashed out on a family room at the Hilton last time, which was lovely (see Airport hotel – heaven or hell?) but really expensive. Our usual option saw us sneaking one child in and squishing them into our bed with us – not a great recipe for a good night’s sleep for anyone. The other option would be adjoining rooms – even more extortionate. Now I’m pretty tight with money when it comes to anything except holidays, but I still think it’s worth spending out to make the start of your holiday smooth rather than stressful. However, it’s hard to get the thought out of the back of my mind that the money we’ve just spent on convenience could have got us several meals out, with ice creams to boot. So imagine how excited I was when, on our way back from the airport in October, I noticed a Premier Inn. How long had it been there? I’d never noticed it before, but there it was, standing tall and proud, just next to the North Terminal. It looked like an easy walk from there to the airport itself – not under cover, maybe, but that was a minor issue. So, next time we were due to head to Gatwick, after balking at the usual prices of the Hilton and Sofitel, I decided to check out the Premier Inn – best decision ever. It was around half the price of what we usually paid (and that’s forgetting the extra expense of a family room at the Hilton), and we managed to get a valet parking deal included that meant we only had to walk to the on-airport short-stay car park, rather than the usual shuttle bus to one of the long-stay parking areas. As with all Premier Inns, the room slept four, so we didn’t have to worry about sneaking in a child, or everyone squishing into one bed. It was hard to find when we got there – we came out of the car park and had no idea which way to go. Unfortunately, we chose the wrong direction and walked for a fair old way before deciding to turn back. Once we’d found it, however, it really was only a very short walk between the hotel and the airport or car park, and it’s probably no further away than either the Hilton or the Sofitel. The rooms themselves were typical Premier Inn – not quite as ‘posh’ as the H or S, but clean and comfortable, with everything you need. The check-in was a little odd, as it was done through a computer, but it was pretty straightforward – it simply printed your keys out for you. I can’t comment on the food – the restaurant was packed in the evening, but it was easy enough just to walk into the airport and eat there instead. So, all in all, it seems like a bit of a no-brainer – all of the convenience for half the price. It will be Premier Inn all the way for us now – I just wish I’d noticed it sooner!

Okay, so I haven’t blogged in ages. I blame Christmas. We were barely home from Benidorm when I was plunged into a world of Christmas preparation – present-buying, card-writing, house-tidying, list-writing, arrangement-making, decoration-putting-up… Of course, this all increases ten-fold when you have children. You haven’t simply got to buy for them – you also have to let everyone else know what they want to avoid duplication (‘Thanks, Grandma, I’ll put it with the other fifteen…’). And don’t get me started about helping them choose presents for other people (‘That’s lovely, Dylan, but do you really think Daddy wants Lego for Christmas?’ ‘Yes, Finn, Dylan does like Beast Quest books, but who are you really buying it for?)… Then there’s the cards. As well as your own, you have to get them to write (or write for them, in the case of my youngest) cards to everyone in their class. Can they remember all their names? You can’t leave anyone out. And how on earth do you spell that one?! Presents for teachers – contribute to a joint effort from the parents? Make something, for that personal touch? Buy chocolates and be done with it? Cards – Poundland, Paperchase or home-made? It’s a minefield. For the record, I opted for a compromise – home-baked presents for the teachers, and cheap-as-chips Poundland cards. But just thinking about it all stole vital hours from a time-short day. And what exactly are we doing for Christmas – are we at home or somewhere else? Who’s coming to us? Who’s staying with us? Better start food shopping – are there any turkeys left? Then there’s all the other Christmas arrangements to make, for us and the kids – parties, meals, discos, pantomimes. The list is endless. All this, of course, on top of the usual work, school runs, household chores and other organisation that inevitably takes up a large portion of life. Hence blogging went somewhere on the backburner.

So, what’s all this got to do with holidays then? Nothing – and that’s kind of the point. I am obsessed with holidays, and usually take every opportunity to go away – which generally means every school holiday and the occasional weekend too. But the one time I shy away from all that is Christmas. Stress and organisation aside (when would I actually have time to go on holiday?!), I think Christmas is a time for staying at home, for family, for enjoying spending time with each other, for catching up with friends and other family members. Somehow, despite the horrible weather and the admittedly tempting offer of a holiday in the sun, I prefer to stay at home for Christmas. So that’s one school holiday you’ll find me at home in my snuggly PJs, drinking hot chocolate – and only occasionally wishing it was a bikini and a Pina Colada.

And before you think I’ve gone soft, we’re off to Jamaica in two days – see you when I get back!

Further to my last post, looks like I’m not the only one missing some sun on TV…

BBC expat soap flop Eldorado could be set to return to the screens after 20 years

Hands up who’s seen the sitcom Benidorm? I love watching it – not because I think it’s comedy genius (although I confess I do find it quite funny) but because it’s set on holiday. As a bit of a telly addict, a TV programme that caters to my holiday obsession is my idea of heaven! Death in Paradise is perfect viewing and I loved The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency (combining crime drama and holidays with TV? Life can’t get better!). I’ve started watching Neighbours again in preparation for next year’s planned trip to Australia, and I mourn the days of Holiday and Wish You Were Here. What happened to them?! I’ll even confess to Sunburn (remember that?) and Eldorado being guilty pleasures in the past (but don’t tell anyone!). It’s not so much about getting ideas for future holidays (although that’s always good) – it’s more about watching somewhere hot and sunny, that is as far removed from rainy old England as possible. If I can’t get some sun and relaxation myself, then watching it on the telly is the next best thing. Basically, I love a bit of sun-based escapism, and Benidorm fits neatly into that box. That said, as anyone who’s seen it would understand, it didn’t exactly encourage me to visit the Costa Blanca…

Read my next blog to find out whether Benidorm lived up to my expectations!

Given that I’ve already spent a while writing my review for Trip Advisor, it seemed sensible to post it on my blog, rather than write a separate view of the hotel. Of course, this one is more for information than entertainment, but might be useful for anyone thinking of visiting Benidorm or the area – or anyone just wanting a nosy about where we stayed on our last holiday!

As always, I’m basing my review on the price we paid. This isn’t a five-star resort – nor does it pretend to be. And given how cheap it is, there are bound to be niggles and imperfections. However, I think it was a bargain – the negative points were unimportant, and outweighed by the positives. Firstly, the location is pretty good. Albir is just 5-10 minutes’ drive from Benidorm – close enough if you want some action but far enough away if you’d like something more peaceful. There is a bus stop just outside the hotel, although we had a hire car so didn’t use it. There is a decent-sized supermarket just opposite, and lots of shops, bars and restaurants in the area. It’s about a fifteen minute walk down to the beach at Albir – shingle and far smaller than Benidorm, but very pleasant. The reception staff were extremely friendly and helpful. We found most of the bar and restaurant staff the same – a smile and ‘gracias’ goes a long way! When the light in our bedroom wasn’t working, we reported it to reception and someone was along to fix it within an hour – similarly with a problem with one of the pool tables. The room itself was basic but fine – the apartments are laid out in three-storey blocks of (I think) 9 apartments altogether. The layout is such that we didn’t have any neighbours, which was brilliant – on the downside, you could hear everything from the stairwell, which was a problem halfway through the holiday, when some very inconsiderate and noisy people moved into the block. We had a one-bedroom apartment, which meant we could put the kids to bed and still have somewhere to sit ourselves – I think we drew the short straw though, as the sofa bed was not particularly comfy. The maids came and cleaned every day, and we had plenty of linen and towels (although they were rather small and rough). We initially had 2 blankets in the wardrobe but when they saw we were using them, more appeared in case the children needed them too (although they had bedspreads already). It was a bit lacking in space for clothes – the wardrobe was big enough, but there was a serious lack of drawers! There were cupboards in the lounge and the kitchen though, as well as a shelf, a dining table (4 chairs) and a coffee table, so there was ample opportunity for storage in general. There was a wide-screen TV but it didn’t have any English channels – you could buy a TV card from reception (not sure how much) but we didn’t bother. The kitchen was small, with 2 hobs, a microwave and a fridge. Not sure what there was in the way of equipment, as we were all-inclusive, but the fridge came in handy! The balcony was a reasonable size with a table and four chairs. No washing line but plenty of rail space. No cover though, which meant it wasn’t sheltered from wind or rain. The bathroom was basic but adequate – no bath, but a big shower. A very small sink with hardly any space to put your bits and pieces, but it served our needs. The food was fine – the usual buffet affair really. We have eaten better food in all-inclusives, but we’ve also eaten far worse! There was a good choice, and I could always find something I liked – there’s always chips and pasta for the fussier eaters! We stayed for eight days, and the food on the 8th day was the same as our first, so it looks like everything is repeated after a week – would get rather samey if you were there for a fortnight. They have Italian and Mexican evenings once a week, and we particularly enjoyed the Mexican food. The restaurant experience is a little chaotic – you have to find your own table and get your own drinks from the bar or the juice dispensers. You usually had to get your own cutlery too! The daytime entertainment had pretty much stopped, as we were out of season, but there was always something on in the evening. A team of one lady and two men seemed to run all the entertainment – they did a mini-disco and games for the children after dinner, which my children loved, and which catered for all nationalities. We did not stay for the entertainment after that, so can’t really comment, but it seemed to be the same people in various guises – one of the men as an Elvis tribute, for example. The one time we stayed for an hour, we were pleasantly surprised at the quality of their singing. The pool was nice with no problem getting a sunbed in October (although they weren’t adjustable!). There was a good children’s playground next to what I assume is the kids club in season. There is also an indoor pool, although we didn’t use this – partly because it was warm enough to swim outside, and partly because swimming caps are compulsory! The only real problem we encountered was with other guests. When we first arrived, they had around ten national Tai Kwando teams staying there – while they were not at all disruptive, it meant that the restaurant was extremely crowded for the first couple of days, and we ended up eating in a gazebo area for the first night. They regularly have sports teams staying there – once the Tai Kwando teams had left, there were football and gymnastics teams. None of them caused any problems other than overcrowding, though. For our last weekend, it was a Spanish bank holiday, and there was a sudden huge influx of Spanish families. The hotel coped with this by implementing a timing restriction for the restaurant – it didn’t affect us much other than to ensure the restaurant was quiet and calm, while the new Spanish families always ate afterwards. However, we found a lot of them to be very noisy and disrespectful, shouting up the stairs to their apartments at 12am, and leaving the area outside the bar in a filthy state. We also had a lot of problems with various nationalities pushing in the queues at dinner, with one lady being very rude to me. It did put a bit of a damper on things, but was hardly the hotel’s fault. Overall, we were very happy with our stay here – it was not luxury, but we didn’t pay for it. I’m more worried about our room being clean that a damp patch in the bathroom. I’m more worried about the food being good than having my drink brought to me. I’m more worried about the staff being friendly than having well-known entertainers. If they could just change some of their clientele, it would be brilliant!

For a little tour around our apartment and the resort, have a look at my YouTube videos below. You can visit my YouTube channel (Holiday obsessive) for more holiday-related videos (with more to be uploaded soon…).

Back when I first started holidaying, I always booked package deals, so it was charter flights all the way. In the beginning, we flew Britannia (remember them?!); more recently, we usually flew with Thomson. Our city breaks were pretty much limited to Paris and Amsterdam on a coach and the ferry (or once a hovercraft, back in the day). We even pushed the boat out a couple of times and went by Eurostar. Everything changed, of course, with the advent of the budget airline – or, more specifically, easyJet, as I’ve never been able to bring myself to fly with Ryanair (have you heard Michael O’Leary?!). Suddenly, Rome, Prague, Venice and Barcelona were all within easy, practical and relatively cheap reach. It took a while for me to extend this to our ‘summer’ holidays though. Somehow, it seemed ‘safer’ to book a package, in terms of airport transfers, having a rep at hand and the general ease of the whole process, especially once we had children. But it was those very same children who put package deals out of our reach – our youngest turned two at around the same time holiday prices seemed to triple, and suddenly we were faced with an extra airfare on top of the generally higher prices. We soon realised it was much cheaper to book independently – hotels in Spain in particular are often very cheap, and car hire costs surprisingly little (and is so much nicer than a coach transfer!). As for flights – well, they’re still more expensive with two children to include, but they’re still cheaper than you’d expect. All in all, our holidays were about half the price of a package deal, and we were happy. Then, this year, I had a bit of a revelation. We were booking flights to Alicante for October, and easyJet hadn’t yet made their October flights available. However, looking at the earlier flights they did have, they seemed a bit more expensive than usual. I knew that half-term flights would book up quickly and go up in price accordingly – was it worth the risk of waiting until the October flights became available and hoping I could book them before everyone else? I tried looking at other companies (even Ryanair) and, on a whim, I tried British Airways. We had flown with them once, back from Australia many years ago. We hadn’t been particularly impressed, mostly because we preferred the Qantas flight on the way there. Anyway, I was really surprised to find the flights were actually pretty reasonable – and the September flights were cheaper than the easyJet equivalents! I decided to bite the bullet and book the British Airways flights – and I have to say, I don’t regret it! The first bonus was that we didn’t have to pay for our luggage – we were allowed 23kg of hold luggage each, as well as two (count them!) pieces of hand luggage. To be fair, there’s no way in the world we would want to take that much luggage – you have to carry it for a start! But it was brilliant not having to try to pack our worldly goods into two suitcases, just to avoid paying extra. In the end, we settled for three cases, and three pieces of hand luggage, with the knowledge that we could bring a whole extra case of shopping home if we should so wish (we didn’t). We were also able to put both of our car booster seats into the hold without charge (something that, despite numerous emails to easyJet last year, I’m still confused about – we ended up packing one of them in our of our two suitcases!). You can check in online up to 24 hours before the flight – at this point, you are also able to choose your seats (if you haven’t paid to do so before). We were surprised to see that seats had already been allocated to us, then we realised that they were making sure that we were able to sit together – very handy if you’re not quick off the mark with checking in. You’re still able to change those seats, of course, but it takes away the worry of not sitting together. As well as checking in online, we were also able to check our luggage in the night before. This is something that we’ve often done with Thomson, but doesn’t seem to be available with easyJet. It’s handy when you have an early flight and you’re staying in an airport hotel – you simply check your cases in at the airport the night before and then, when you’re stumbling through the airport at 4 o’clock the next morning, you can bypass the queues and go straight to security. Another bonus was the free food on the flight – it wasn’t much, as it was a short flight, but we got orange juice, a croissant and some granola for breakfast, along with tea and coffee. They even offered me an alternative, which I don’t think has ever happened on a flight before! The service overall was excellent – the stewards were friendly and helpful and, most important for us as parents, they were great with the children. The children received little activity bags, which was nice, but the best thing was that they were given the opportunity to go into the cockpit and meet the pilot at the end of the journey – cue two very excited little boys (and a rather excited mummy!). Overall, we were very impressed, and couldn’t fault BA at all. I’m not knocking easyJet –  we have never had any problems with them – but the service and the little extras on the BA flight really made the difference. In future, I will always check BA prices too, rather than automatically going to the ‘budget’ airlines – this holiday just went to show that you shouldn’t make assumptions! Oh, and by the way – I bravely checked the prices of easyJet’s October flights once they were announced (desperately hoping they weren’t going to be half the price of BA!)  – they were pretty much on a par and, once you included the luggage costs, they were actually more expensive. Phew!