As you may have gathered from my recent stream of pretentious Facebook feeds Team Abulous have just returned from vacationing on Hamilton Island – or “Hamo” as the cognoscente affectionately call it. Hamo is a playground for the privileged and a mecca to the middle class holiday maker. What a fine thing it is to fit snugly within the latter demographic. Being a middle class holiday maker is “like soooooooooo awesome man”.
Up until this point we’ve been reluctant to fly Team Abulous as a family unit. Flying is an over rated experience and is only getting worse. ( Dare I say the in-flight experience is descending ?) You’re crammed sardine style into narrow seats that can barely accommodate a size 10 posterior, comforted only by stale sandwiches and lukewarm tea. As for airplane lavatories – why would anyone want to shag Ralph Fiennes in there? I can’t think of a less erotic location. Add a restless six year old and whinging three year old and you’ve got a recipe for hard core parental discomfort. It took some hefty incentivisation to over come our resistance. This came in the form of an invitation from my brother in law (Uncle M) . He had taken some time out to sail his yacht up there (as you do) and asked us to join him and his family. This meant a holiday where our girls could play with their cousins. The kids would self amuse relieving us of the burden of having to entertain them. Ah Queensland beautiful one day, perfect the next. We were on webjet booking our tickets faster than you can say “mile high hostie”.
A broad range of accommodation and facilities were built on Hamo but I’m not sure how it happened. The place is not conducive getting any work done. The minute I stepped out on to the tarmac and felt the balmy afternoon air I became acutely aware of the lack of an alcoholic beverage in my hand.
We rocked up to what we thought were the most suitable accommodations only to find the gates were malfunctioning. Damn technology.
We compromised by taking up residence in the aptly named Panorama apartments just a brief buggy ride down the hill.
Once we dumped our luggage it was straight to the marina to board the family yacht where my obliging sister in law placed an over full glass of pink champagne in my hand. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.
We followed up with a few more drinks whilst taking in the magnificent sunset and pretty soon I was hammered on Hamo. Sadly the following morning I was hung over on Hamo. Its a good thing that we chose to spend most of that day arse sitting whilst the kids played. My hang over also provided the perfect excuse to not get in the pool. It proved to be the predominant theme for the entire trip. There is much action to be had on Hammo if you’re into water sports but we used the kids as our rationale to avoid it, choosing to arse sit instead. We achieved some quality arse sitting over the course of the week.
When we did manage to get to our feet we did a ferry ride out to Daydream Island – where we experienced a poo incident. I thought we had gotten past that literal shit but alas. I was forced to purchase P2 a clean outfit from the over priced gift store. The following day we did the breakfast with the koalas at the island zoo. We also intrepidly explored the terrain in our buggy. All visitors to the island get their very own electric golf cart. It takes a skilled hand and nerves of steel to master these machines – particularly when they hit their maximum warp speed of 20 kph. Apparently there have been fatalities
Just when we thought our chance had passed we went and saved the best for last – that is we put the girls into the kids club on our final day. Why we did not do this sooner is a mystery. Actually its not. It can be explained by the tightness of the derrières we had been sitting on for most of the week. The girls were eager to ditch their daggy parents for some cool young child care workers, an embarrassment of craft and a jumping castle. Meanwhile Mum and Dadabulous enjoyed a glorious morning of freedom hiking through the rain forest and lunching at the very fancy Hamilton Island yacht club.
We’ve been home for two days now and all four of us are getting back into our regular routines. The girls have a hectic schedule of playdates and parties, Dadabs is finalizing the end of year accounts and I’m atoning for my hot chip consumption at the gym. Its almost as if the holiday never happened. Still I find myself wistfully leafing through the free NRMA magazine and dreaming of our next escape. I’m in favor of something a little out of our comfort zone like Bali or NZ. However we’ll probably end up doing that other middle class rite of passage – the theme parks of the Gold Coast. It will no doubt inspire a blog post with a cheesy title like “Going for Gold on the Goldie”. Be sure to look out for that one.
How have your school holidays been?