So I’ve bleated on about how great our holiday was, but now is the time to come clean, and admit that it wasn’t all infinity pools, and tropical beaches. The flight home was, frankly, horrendous.
Leaving paradise is hard at the best of times, but chuck in an 8-hour-flight, a plane-phobic partner, and a ratty toddler, and you have all the ingredients for what I like to call a full-blown shit-fit. Which is exactly what Big Sis threw pretty much the moment we arrived at the airport. I can’t really blame the girl, since we were removing her from spacious tropical villa, complete with its own jacuzzi, and returning her to a bijoux second floor London flat that doesn’t even boast a power shower. Not exactly a fair swap.
The first challenge was trying to convince her to stand in the queue to board. The only way we could get her to stop running off into the crowds was to bribe her with Timmy Time clips on the i-Phone, which she insisted on watching from here:
Once we got on the plane it was Meltdown Central. How do you explain to a 22-month-old that Civil Aviation Authority regulations clearly state she must sit on your lap for take off? Don’t bother to answer, because it’s a trick question – you can’t. Attempting to strap her in resulted in this:
Then this…
Aaaaaaaaaand a little bit of this…
Then, finally, thankfully, this…
She then slept for most of the flight home – much to obvious relief of the rest of the other passengers on the flight.
But, on the bright side, I got to go through Immigration with my British partner for the first time in 10 years! Despite living, working, and paying taxes here for a decade, I still haven’t become an actual citizen, because partway though the application process (after completing my Life in the UK course and everything… ) I discovered that the fee to become naturalised cost more than £700.
So until that lottery win comes through, it’s always been the long and winding ‘All Other Passports’ queue for me – until the other day. Turns out shacking up with an English fella, and spawning a mini-UK citizen can allow you to all slip through together as a family.
I don’t know if that’s an official policy, or the immigration officer just took one look at my frazzled face, wrinkled clothes, and baby bump, and felt sorry for me. Either way, it was a lovely welcome back to my adopted country.
I howled laughing at this post – I’ve been there while pregnant as well. I joke that on our flight from NY to Fort Lauderdale, Florida -I walked there – up and down the aisle with a 20 month old who said, ‘Hi’ to every row – it was fun the first three times – not so much on the 20th! I feel for you.
After living in Australia and going through the immigration passports queues there I prommised to myself once we move to the UK, I will definitely get a UK passport (as they treat you differently!).
I am Czech, so being part of the EU, travelling within EU is not that difficult (in comparison to the old communist times!!!), but once we want to tavel to the US or outside Europe, it’s alwas much more difficult for me than for my English husband. But as you have mentioned, I am not willing to pay £700 for a passport…why is it sooo expensive???
Thank God she slept for most of it, eh? The place you were staying sounds lovely!
Stop picking on my lil granddaughter, she can’t help being a terrible two 🙂
Arrrgh another £700? Seriously!? I’ve already spent over £15k.
‘Cross the Pond: LOL!! Lucia did the same thing, going ‘Hiya!’ to everyone she passed. I was a bit surprised actually, at how many people just completely ignored her, or gave her ‘Go Away’ looks. Even before I had kids I’d have found that really cute – although I totally understand their frustration when she was screaming her head off!
Mirka: Urgh! You know just how I feel then! I don’t expect to have the same rights as a full citizen, but it would be nice, after 10 years being a (fairly) decent member of British society, owning a house, snapping up a local, and having an English baby, if I wasn’t lumped in with all the tourists either. Maybe a special 3rd line just for me (and you, of course)? 🙂
Heather: Thank God we had that lovely holiday beforehand, to give us the strength to survive the flight home!!
Lindsay: Poor little Monkey, she just wanted to run up and down the aisle and socialise with the other passengers, and we were completely cramping her style.
Vegemite Vix: I’m afraid so!!!!! It ain’t cheap becoming a Brit, is it?? I count myself lucky to have had ancestry (I wouldn’t have been allowed to stay otherwise) but even getting my Indefinite Leave to Remain cost over £300, plus all the time and hassle. That doesn’t count all the original costs of moving over here, and all the money you lose converting dollars to pounds, etc. I feel your pain!!!
gezz jax you poor thing, only makes me want to wait longer….. jax: 1.5 tania: 0 you’re still a winner!!!
over £1000 at the moment…yup…
I’m not gonna be doing it for a while just yet… 🙂
Aunty Tania: Don’t be scared off Snommas – you still get less tantrums per week from a toddler than you do from your average adult male.
Urbanvox: WHAT?? So that’s a 50% increase in fees since I last looked into it, about three years ago. Not exactly keeping in line with inflation, is it??? I still secretly think they should be paying ME to become a citizen, since I’m clearly a fine, upstanding individual, and a true credit to UK society.
Very funny! My children are a lot older now but I still remember those moments of despair!
Vivian Ambitiousmamas
I “linked within” to this post but it’s great. Love your writing style. I have been back from Ireland since 29th Jan and still haven’t written my “baby’s first flight” post. I thought I’d write lots of tips for new mums flying for the first time, but I have been so frazzled since I got back (5th week of cold/flu/chest infection) I have been using my computer time for leisure and I’ve made the thought of doing that post into a chore, but that’s what happens when you put something off for too long.
Liska x