How many problems can you encounter on a weekend away to Turin? My only concern was could we as a family actually transport a wedding cake from London to Turin and make sure it arrives in one piece? Well here it is. Diary of ‘Wedding cake to Turin’
Thursday: Arrive home, feeling relaxed. A nice long weekend ahead and in Italy, which can’t be bad. We are off to my husband’s nephew’s wedding in Turin. I unpack the shopping and begin tidying the house. There is nothing I hate more than coming home to a mess. I am prepared for the odd dead rabbit with its head missing and a couple of dead mice and even some live ones should my cat lose them but I cannot leave with beds unmade or toothpaste in the bathroom sink. I have decided to make a Thai curry as a treat and am just preparing the vegetables and frying the curry paste when my blackberry bleeps several times in urgent succession. Already, on my way home from work my husband had emailed me asking when would I be home. Shortly another followed saying no problem as he was leaving early. I ignore the bleeps and continue singing happily as I prepare dinner. A few seconds later it bleeps several times again and I sigh. The kitchen looks like a bomb has hit it. I quickly check my phone convinced they are all facebook emails and am stunned to see four from hubby. There is no phone signal where he is working.
‘When will you be home?’
‘Are you home yet?’
‘I am held up here can you sort out our seats as my brother phoned and we need to do the 24 hour online booking’
‘Are you home yet?’
The Thai curry is boiling over and I trip over the cat that has brought in a mouse as a gift. I curse as I plug in my laptop and then rush upstairs to rummage through the tip that is known as my husband’s office to find our passports. After 20 minutes I get online and into the 24 booking site. Meanwhile, I rush back and forth to check on dinner and email hubby for flight details. It has been decided that the whole family should sit together on the same flight. So, at the last minute I have to rearrange our seats to fit in with his parents, brother and his wife. I have done it. Email Hubby.
His response.
‘Can you phone David. I am not sure that is the right row. It was a bad line when I spoke to him’
The Curry has stained the cooker and I feel like crying at the thought of cleaning that up. I phone David who tells me which seats to book and I do the whole thing again. Finally, clean up kitchen and start packing. Now starts my dilemma. How many dresses for the wedding? I need to be sure. I decide to pack three, which means I need three shawls in case. I dither, should I take the travelling iron? I sneak it in between the clothes as hubby always tells me it is not needed.
‘Hotels always have them,’ he is fond of saying and I have been caught out several times now. I am going to a wedding with a sister in law who will size up everything. I decide I will not to be caught out with creased clothes. I pack the dresses, two skirts, two thick jumpers, numerous tops, three cardigans, three pairs of shoes, my diary, books, camera, lap top, perfumes, make up, all my jewellery, eight lots of underwear, magazines, numerous adapters and finally enough pills to sink the Titanic. I am ready for a long weekend in Turin. I cannot imagine any woman thinking I have over packed.
Hubby walks in and I say ‘What a nightmare that 24 hour online booking thing is, even more so without being able to ask you anything on the phone.’
I am pleased I did it and expect a ‘thank you for your help dear’ kind of response.
‘You are an intelligent woman, I would expect you to do it without a problem’
I take that to be my thank you and slam his curry down onto the table.
Later his mum phones panicking about transporting the cake onto the plane. I let hubby talk to her.
Friday:
Up for early start, hubby questions why the bag is so heavy. I make the usual excuses. We cover the sofa in case the cat brings in its prey covered in blood and then head off. Pleasurable journey, no traffic and I try to relax. I am nervous. My brother in law I feel has never really taken to me and I have difficulty with his wife who believes herself to be assertive when we all know she is aggressive and I am far too passive, at least so my counsellor told me. They have never come to terms with hubby divorcing first wife.
Arrive at the airport nice and early. Stroll around the bookshops and come back to find him talking seriously on the phone. I realise it is about his contract with a long term company and my heart skips a bit as we have been waiting for it to come to an end, but good news they are renewing it and we celebrate with a coffee and flap jack. We constantly look for mum and dad in law but no sign. Then just before boarding we see them. Hugs and kisses all round and we go with them on the buggy (great fun) and agree to meet David and wife on the plane. Hubby takes the cake with strict instructions to be gentle with it. It is transported safely into the overhead and everyone relaxes for five minutes and then father in law states he has lost his passport. A frantic search begins, mum in law shouts at him and the hostess helps us and assures him all will be ok. It will!! I doubt it somehow. After 15 minutes of panic but with everyone pretending to be calm, mum in law announces it is in her handbag but has no idea how it got there. We take off.
No one talks to me so I read ‘Prisoner in Tehran’ and it all feels so familiar. Ok I exaggerate.
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