Overnight at the Treehouse Hotel, Port Lympne Hotel and Reserve

I have somewhat mixed feelings about animals in captivity. I am an animal lover so, while I love the opportunity to see animals up close, it goes without saying that I abhor seeing animals kept in cramped or cruel conditions. I am more torn in situations where they are kept in large enclosures with plenty of space and stimulation - a lot is said about how animals are better off in the wild, but who's to say they wouldn't prefer living somewhere safe, with plenty of food, shelter and medical attention if necessary, and without the threat of predators or poachers? Ethical dilemmas aside, Port Lympne Reserve in Kent, along with its sister park Howletts, is not your average 'zoo'. While it offers plenty for the paying visitor, its purpose is not to provide entertainment - rather, it focuses on conservation, with the ultimate aim of releasing animals back into the wild. Working in conjunction with the animal conservation charity the Aspinall Foundation, their 'mission is to halt the extinction of rare and endangered species and return them to the wild where possible'. You can read more on their website.

Although as a local girl I have visited both Port Lympne and Howletts many times over the years, this year we decided to splash out and go for one of the overnight packages that Port Lympne have started offering over recent years. The reason was for my mum's 70th birthday - my sister and I decided to treat her as she's mad about animals. I will preface this whole post by saying that, unless you have lots of money to spare, you really need a good reason or a special celebration to book one of the Port Lympne short breaks. I won't detail prices, as my mum might read this, but suffice to say they are not cheap! They are, however, pretty special and make for a very unique night or few days away. Port Lympne offer a range of different types (and prices) of accommodation. We chose the Treehouse Hotel, but if you visit the website you can find more details on the other types of accommodation available.

What was the accommodation like?

We opted for the Treehouse Hotel because we figured it was the best option for our group of three (and couldn't really imagine my mum glamping!), but it would also work particularly well for families. Although called a 'hotel', the Treehouse Hotel actually consists of several individual self-catering units, each accessed up a steep flight of stairs (although there is also an accessible option). The units comprise a twin bedroom, a double bedroom, a bathroom, an open-plan kitchen and lounge, and a large balcony, with views over a rhino and cheetah enclosure and the Hythe bay. The bedrooms were very comfortable, with robes and slippers included, and the swish bathroom - with bath and integral shower - included a selection of Bamford toiletries.

Double bedroom

Twin bedroom

Twin bedroom

Bathroom

The lounge had air conditioning, several comfy sofas and a huge TV, and the kitchen was well stocked with plenty of crockery and cutlery, a dishwasher, oven, toaster and Nespresso machine. There was milk in the fridge and a selection of hot drinks, all complimentary - there was also a basket of goodies you could pay for, although they were appropriately priced for their captive consumers, and you would be much better advised to bring your own snacks.

Lounge

Dining table

Kitchen

The balcony was huge, with a large table and chairs, plus a comfy sofa. The only downside was that we had a downpour shortly before checking into the hotel - and with no canopy over the furniture, the cushions on the sofa and the chairs were completely soaked, rendering them unusable.

Dining table on the balcony

View from the balcony

View from the balcony

Overall, the accommodation was very comfortable and felt luxurious - our only real complaint (apart from the rain) was that we didn't have enough time in it to fully enjoy it!

What's included?

It goes without saying that your park entrance, from opening time on the day you arrive until closing time on the day you leave, is included in the cost. Entrance to Howletts, around half an hour's drive away, is also included - although if you are only staying for one night, like we were, you won't be able to fit this in without missing out on some of Port Lympne. If you choose to book an animal enounter (more on this below), you get a discount on the cost equalling the price of the entry fee. If you are staying at the Treehouse Hotel, there is a clubhouse next to the rhino encounter, where you receive a free welcome drink and can toast marshmallows over the fire. It has a bar and I believe that it is open into the evening, if you want to relax there with a drink instead of in your treehouse, but I think this depends on the day and season (it seemed to close quite early when were there). One of the best things about staying is the use of a golf buggy - quite apart from being good fun to drive (if rather difficult to get used to - who knew it was easier to drive a car?!), it is also invaluable in getting around the park, which is huge and very hilly.

My mum and sister by our golf buggy

Another advantage to booking an overnight stay is that you get exclusive access to Port Lympne after the day visitors have gone home (and before they arrive the next day). Not only is it quite nice having the zoo to yourselves (well, apart from the other overnighters zipping around on their golf buggies), but you also get to see some of the animals who only tend to come out at night or at quieter/cooler times.

Where can you eat?

There are a number of eating places in Port Lympne, at varying prices. At lunchtime on the first day, we ate at a cafe that I can't find a name for, near Base Camp (where you check in on arrival and where you queue for the safari truck - more below). It has a variety of pasties, ready-made sandwiches, cakes, snacks and drinks and is an easy lunch option. On the second day, we hoped to have lunch in the Pinewood Cafe near the entrance, where they also do a variety of hot lunches - something with pulled pork jumped out - but we were in the wrong part of the park. They had a small 'kiosk' near Babydoll's (more later) also selling hot food, but sadly this was closed while we were there. We ended up grabbing a sandwich at the kiosk near the meerkats, which was disappointing if I'm honest, but it was late and it was literally the last one left. Luckily, the gelato from the ice cream van next door made up for it! The aforementioned Babydoll's was our choice for dinner. Named after the last surviving original Howlett's gorillas, it's Italian themed and serves a mix of pasta and pizzas. There wasn't a huge choice but everything we ate was delicious. You can eat outside if the weather's good, although we chose to eat indoors - it was relatively quiet when we were there, although I'd imagine it's a different story at peak times. There were plenty of children there and the prices were mid-range, so this would be a good choice for dinner if you were there on a family trip.

Outside Babydoll's

The other dinner choices were the Pinewood Cafe - reasonably priced but I would suspect that it lacks the ambience you'd want for an evening meal - and the restaurant inside the Port Lympne Hotel itself, the original Grade 2 listed mansion house. The Port Lympne Hotel also serves up afternoon tea; unfortunately, the prices for both this and the evening meals were a little over our budget after paying for the stay in the first place!

What animals will you see?

There are a whole host of animals at Port Lympne, although that doesn't necessarily mean you'll see all of them! The nature of the park means that the enclosures are generally very large, with lots of places for animals to hide away - so if they don't want to show themselves, they won't! As I mentioned earlier, accessing the park in the evening or early morning can increase your chances of seeing some of the harder-to-spot animals - for example, there was no sign of the wolves during the day but in the evening they were out playing (and we heard them howling from our balcony later on!). There are plenty of primates - lemurs, langurs, gibbons, drills, howler monkeys and, my personal favourite, gorillas. These are usually the highlight of my trip to Port Lympne or Howletts but most of them sadly seemed to be hiding this time.

There are lots of cats - lions, tigers, cheetahs and smaller cats such as the fishing cat or the Scottish wildcat. You can also expect to see rhinos, meerkats, tapirs, red pandas and a whole host of other animals while you wander round the park (or scoot around in your golf buggy).

In addition to those animals you can see independently, all visitors to the park get to go on a safari truck to see some more animals in as natural a habitat as possible - and believe me, there were plenty of moments on the safari when you could quite believe you were on the plains of Africa. The safari ride takes around an hour, with the guide providing information as you go and stopping to get a better look at those animals that are nearby - or to wait for a rhino to get out of the way! As well as rhinos, you can expect to see giraffes (they have recently had several babies born), zebras, camels, water buffalo, ostriches and more species of deer and antelope than I have a hope of recalling. I think the procedure for booking onto the safari varies depending on the time of year - this time, we were able to book a convenient time and were given a ticket to get on, but on my previous visit (during the school holidays), we simply had to queue (for some time) for the next available truck.

What else is there to see?

Slightly incongruously, there is also a fairly newly opened Dinosaur Forest in Port Lympne - this is a (long) walk along a wooded track filled with life-sized models of dinosaurs, along with corresponding information. Along with the obvious T-Rex, stegosaurus, triceratops and so on, there are also plenty of lesser-known (and rather unusual looking) specimens. It's great fun for children, but still interesting for adults.

It is also well worth a wander around the grounds of the mansion house (now the Port Lympne Hotel). Beautifully landscaped, expect to see ponds, a maze, statues, steps with a view and lots of colourful flowers. If there's no wedding going on, you can also have a wander through the mansion house itself. From the amazing murals on the walls to the picturesque Moroccan courtyard, you can see why it's a popular wedding venue.

Can I get up close to the animals?

As mentioned previously, the animals are free to come and go as they please within their enclosures, so how close you get depends on whether they want to show themselves! However, Port Lympne do offer a number of experiences to allow you to get a more 'personal' view of the animals. As well as smaller and one-to-one safaris, you can also book animal encounters with select animals (at a price similarly eye-watering to the hotel but, again, well worth it if you like animals). My mum chose to have a tapir encounter in the hope that it might be more 'hands-on' than some of the other encounters (I certainly had no desire to get up close and personal with the big cats!). The encounters are usually in small groups but we were lucky that it was just the three of us. We got to spend time with the keeper behind the scenes in the tapir house, learning all about tapirs and getting very close indeed. Turns out tapirs love having their tummies rubbed, and they also have quite a liking for sweat, given how much my mum was licked! (I should probably add here that it was a very hot day!) We got to meet Kingut, who, at 40, is the world's oldest  Malayan tapir - apparently, he can get quite over-excited and nip sometimes, but we caught him in a lazy mood, where he wanted nothing more than to lie on his side while we rubbed his tummy. For anyone concerned that the encounter is intrusive for the tapirs, I will say that it was very evident that the animals also enjoyed and benefited from the human contact. The keeper was very knowledgeable and had clearly built up relationships with the tapirs, and I have no doubt that all encounters are handled very sensitively and put the needs of the animals as paramount. While I can only speak for the tapir experience, it really was an amazing opportunity to get face to face with an animal you would never expect to encounter!

You taste nice!

Kingut - the oldest Malayan tapir in the world!

Tapirs love a tummy rub!

Is there anything else I need to know?

Firstly, as mentioned above, the park is very large and full of steep hills. Wear comfy shoes because you'll be doing a lot of walking!

Although there are plenty of places to eat, you're quite welcome to bring your own food for a picnic. The Treehouse Hotel is set up for self-catering, so you can bring your own food to cook if you so wish. We brought croissants, bread, jam and cereal so that we could have breakfast on our balcony (and save ourselves the cost of breakfast in one of the restaurants!).

Breakfast with a view

Who needs a selfie stick when you have a reflection in a window?!

Although you can get to the park as soon as it opens (9.30 am), you can't check in to the treehouse until 3.00 pm (this could be an issue if you have any food that needs refrigeration!). There is a centrally positioned car park reserved for hotel guests, so you can leave your stuff in the car until you check in. You're taken to the clubhouse along with your luggage in a little truck (the treehouses aren't accessible on foot), where you receive your golf buggy (along with instructions on how to drive it) and your key. You have to check out at 11.00 am the morning you leave, although you get to keep the golf buggy until 1.00 pm. You can either take your luggage back to the car in the golf buggy or the staff will transport it for you in a truck. You can still stay at the park until closing time - 6.30 pm in summer and 5.30 pm in winter.

Where it all began

Once upon a time, I was not a traveller. I was not obsessed with holidays, mainly because I hadn't had many. By the age of 16, I'd been to Sussex for a couple of holidays and I'd been to the Isle of Wight twice - that felt really exciting, as it involved a ferry, so it was almost like going to another country. I had vague memories of camping in Suffolk and Norfolk as a toddler, and apparently I went to Cornwall as a baby, although obviously I had no recollection of that. I'd been on a day trip to Boulogne at the age of seven or eight - the beauty of living close to Dover - but that was the extent of my travel.

So when I travelled to Mykonos at 16, I ticked off quite a few 'firsts' all in one go. It was the first time I'd been on an aeroplane. It was the first time I'd been to Greece (or, let's be honest, any country other than England or France). It was the first time I'd been away for more than a fortnight - we were going for three weeks. And it was the first time I'd been away without an adult - I was going with my best friend to stay with her sister, who lived on the island. If I was going to lose my travel virginity, I was sure going to do it in style...

The beautiful streets of Mykonos

 My friend's dad drove us to the airport, and that was the end of any adult involvement for the rest of our journey. We checked in and then went through security, an experience totally alien to me. And right from the start, things got funny. Bear in mind that this was 25 years ago - long before liquids had been banned on planes. Long before, or so it turned out, anyone was that bothered about security full stop. Because my friend had a pair of kitchen scissors in her hand luggage. She had them because she sometimes used them to cut her hair. Over a three-week period, with a fringe, there was a reasonable chance she'd want to cut her hair - and so she packed the scissors. It didn't dawn on her that her hand luggage wasn't the place for them. It didn't dawn on me either - I dread to think what was in my hand luggage. It was only when the security guard pulled them out of the bag, having spotted them on the x-ray machine, and asked, 'What do you intend to use these for?' that we realised maybe it hadn't been a good idea. Maybe it was a little strange having scissors in your hand luggage. Maybe they could be considered an offensive weapon. But the thing is, faced with this rather obvious conclusion, both our minds went blank. Neither of us could think of an answer that made sense. But instead of giving the real reason, panicked, my friend answered, 'To cut my nails?' Now you'd think this would have rung major alarm bells. Clearly, you couldn't cut nails with those scissors unless you were a giant (which we weren't). Clearly, there was no good reason for us to have scissors in our hand luggage. At the very least, the scissors should have been confiscated. It wouldn't have been unfair for security guards to take us off for questioning. Instead, they put the scissors back in the bag and said 'Okay, just make sure they're in your suitcase on the way back.' True story.

We went through into the airport lounge and sat down, unsure of what to do next. There was a screen up with a list of flights - next to ours, it said 'wait in lounge', so that seemed like a pretty good idea. We weren't really sure what to do with ourselves though. Nowadays, normal procedure would be to go and get a drink somewhere, and maybe some food. Back then, as poor schoolgirls, we had limited money, and we wouldn't have dreamt of wasting any of it when we were going to get a free meal - yes, free, just imagine! - on the plane. So we wandered, and we sat down again, and then we suddenly heard an announcement. 'Would passengers Castle and Hammer please come to the information desk!' I would say that those were our maiden names, but they couldn't even pronounce my friend's properly, which is why it took until the announcement was repeated before we realised they were talking about us. We looked at each other in panic - what did they want us for? Had something happened? Were we in trouble? We eventually found the information desk and announced ourselves. 'Are you Castle?' they asked me. I nodded. 'How old are you?' '16,' I answered. They looked at my passport. 'You need to be travelling with someone 17 or over,' they said. 'I'm 17,' said my friend. They looked at her passport. 'Okay,' they said. 'You can go.' And that was it. We went and sat back down, feeling somewhat bemused. I'm still not really sure what was about. If they knew my age, surely they also knew my friend's? And if they were concerned, surely it should have been discussed at check-in? Odd. But it added to the drama of our journey.

Platis Gialos beach, where we spent the majority of our time

The flight itself was fairly uneventful in comparison. Obviously, I was pretty excited when we took off, but the fact that it was a night flight limited any view from the windows. I was shocked by the pain in my ears and sinuses on landing - this was a new experience I didn't enjoy. I was vaguely interested in the fact that there were TVs on the plane, but they were the ones that came down from the ceiling and I didn't want to pay for headphones. The most exciting thing by a mile was my first experience of aeroplane food. How exciting? A whole meal, all packaged up in a little tray, and actually FREE! I was easily impressed back then. I can't remember exactly what it was - some sort of minced beef in a sauce, I think, maybe with pasta. There was a little pot of boiled potatoes on the side, which we both emptied into our mince. Unfortunately, the potatoes turned out to be melon balls - guess that was our starter. I ate them anyway - and I don't even like melon. They were FREE!

We arrived at Athens airport in the early hours, collecting our suitcases without any drama. We'd been told we needed to get a taxi to the port at Piraeus, where we then had a six-hour ferry journey ahead of us. Unfortunately, we had to wait several hours before morning, when we'd be able to get the taxi, so we settled ourselves down to wait. Luckily, at this time of night/morning, the airport was quiet, so we had no problem finding a seat. However, we were tired and the excitement of the journey was wearing off by this point, so the prospect of sitting in an airport for several hours was not exactly one to look forward to. Luckily, I brightened things up for everyone by falling over when walking back from the toilet. It was quite spectacular - I might as well have trodden on a banana skin, as my feet flew up in from of me and I fell flat on my back. The entire airport went silent - this is no exaggeration. It was like some sort of respectful silence, broken only by me and my friend killing ourselves laughing. It would honestly have been so much better if everyone else had laughed with us or, even better, carried on as if nothing had happened. Instead, I had to pick myself up, still laughing alone, and walk back to my seat with all eyes on me. Not my finest moment.

Paradise Beach - a rare departure from our usual haunt

Once the sun came up, we ventured outside to get a taxi. We found one, told him we wanted to go to the port, and in we climbed. We didn't agree a price beforehand, as my friend's sister had told us how much it would be. We finally arrived at Piraeus, having glimpsed the Acropolis in the distance on the way, and the taxi driver told us it would be 9,000 drachma*. We were confused - this worked out at around £30, and we thought we'd been told it should be 3,000 drachma (£10). We argued with the taxi driver. He argued back. Then we realised we must have made a mistake - it must have been 3,000 pence (i.e. £30) and not 3,000 drachma. Whoops! We paid and out we got, the driver graciously unloading our cases for us. We found out later that it should not have been 3,000 pence at all. We had been right royally conned.

At the port, we found a ticket office, bought tickets and got on the ferry. I have no idea how we knew where to go or what ferry to get on - I'm sure we must have been given instructions but in my memory we were just winging it. We found ourselves some seats and settled down for a loooong journey - six hours, to be precise. Now bear in mind that these ferries were pretty basic - no bars, restaurants, shops or variety of lounges to choose from. This ferry had little to offer except seats - and there weren't that many of them to choose from. We sat down, with our suitcases as close to us as possible. The cases had become the bane of our lives by this point. Stuffed full, making the most of our 23kg luggage allowance, they had to come everywhere with us - which was quite a feat, given their size and weight. Had I known that I would spend almost the whole three weeks in the same swimming-costume-and-denim-shorts combo, I would have packed a lot lighter and made my life a lot easier. As it was, I'd packed everything but the kitchen sink, and I was very reluctant to let the suitcase out of my sight. So imagine our horror when some middle-aged Greek women decided our cases were in the way and moved them so that they could sit down. Fair enough in hindsight but at the time we were outraged. We tried to explain that we NEEDED to be able to keep our eyes on our suitcases. Sadly, our Greek was about as good as their English, and a lot of gesturing followed, without a whole lot of understanding on either side. Finally, we gave up. We had no desire to stay sitting where we were next to the suitcase-stealers, so we searched the ferry for somewhere else to sit, trailing our cases behind us as we went. However, by making some kind of stand against the Greek women, we were cutting off our noses to spite our faces, because the only available seats were where we'd just been sitting (can't really blame them for thinking they deserved seats more than our cases did). Eventually, we realised the only place left to sit was out on deck (and I mean ON the deck, not on seats on the deck), so we lugged the suitcases upstairs and found a spot to sit down and enjoy the sun, if not the comfort, for the remainder of the SIX-HOUR journey. It was hot. It was sunny. I was wearing a T-shirt and leggings (back when they were fashionable first time round). Although I did have swimwear in The Suitcase, I didn't know where to start in terms of searching through the plethora of mostly-useless stuff I'd packed, so I decided to roll up my leggings instead. Let's just say that five and a half hours in the Greek sun with no sun lotion (also in the depths of The Suitcase) left me with some very 'interesting' tan lines, which sadly took most of my three weeks in Mykonos to blend in...

The outfit that saw us through 3 weeks in Mykonos!

At the end of our very long ferry journey, we were met at the port by my friend's sister and taken back to their house for the rest of the three weeks. It turned out that the journey really was just the beginning... but that's for another blog!

View of Mykonos Town as we arrived

When we finally got home and my dad picked us up from Gatwick, I told him about the journey, and I remember him proudly telling me that if I could do that, I could do anything. Okay, so it was only getting a plane, taxi and a ferry on our own - nothing to all those hardcore backpackers out there. But I was only 16 and still naive to the joys of travel (and independence), and for me it felt like a hell of an adventure. And it certainly sowed the seeds, because over the next year I went to Paris, Amsterdam and Tenerife with my friend, paid for with my part-time waitressing job. I'd clearly found what I wanted to spend my money on, and nothing's changed since. It's got to be said, though, that the organised coach tour to Amsterdam and the package holiday to Tenerife (complete with tour rep) were a whole lot less eventful! Paris is another story...

*Figures are guesstimates, based on 25-year-old memories and the 1993 exchange rate according to Google.

London: How to spend a penny without spending a penny!

One of my pet hates when travelling in any city is paying to use the toilet. I know - it's very petty. But going to the toilet is a necessity rather than a luxury. I resent having to pay for taking care of a basic need. And principles aside, I don't always have the money - or at least the change - to pay to use a toilet. And just think what that 50p could buy! (Okay, not much, but I'm thinking chocolate...)

It seems to be becoming more widespread now, but the first time I encountered having to pay for the toilet was in London, back when it only cost 20p. I was 16, I was at Victoria Station, I was desperate and I didn't have any change. My friend had change but I refused to take it on principle and tried to duck under the barrier. Needless to say, I got caught, pleaded lack of money and had to take my friend's 20p after all.

I don't duck under barriers these days - I don't think my back would let me. But I do try to avoid paying wherever possible, and am making it my mission to find as many free public toilets as I can. It goes without saying that using toilets in restaurants, pubs and cafes is one option, but that isn't always practical or convenient (nor fair if you're not actually a customer). But there are other options, and here are the ones I've found in London. I'm sure some of you have found other examples, and I'd love to hear about them. I'm hoping to keep updating this post, so if you know of any free public toilets in London that I've not mentioned, please comment at the bottom or let me know on Twitter @holidayobsessi1 (that's a 'one' and not an 'L' at the end!) and I'll add them to the list!

St Pancras International
These are my favourite. There may be others elsewhere in the station but there are free toilets behind the escalators going to the Southeastern trains (platforms 10-13 I think). Look for the Starbucks, Yo Sushi and M&S. I can't speak for the mens', but there are around 10 cubicles, all of which generally lock and have toilet paper. There is usually a toilet attendant about so they are pretty clean. Best of all, you feel smug, because you have to pay for the toilets in Kings Cross just across the road.

North Greenwich tube station
Sticking with stations, this is another option I use fairly regularly. On the Jubilee line, a few stops away from London Bridge, it's not somewhere you'd go from central London, but it's still handy if you're heading to the O2, the Emirates or the Thames Clippers. We often park here if driving into London, as it's reasonably cheap (especially on Sundays), so we always take the opportunity to use the toilets before heading into the city. There are plenty of cubicles, usually with locks and paper (though not quite as clean as St Pancras), and you don't often have to queue for long.

Museums and art galleries
Obviously, you'd expect to have free use of toilets at any paying attraction you visit, but the beauty of museums in London is that they're free - and they still have toilets! I won't use this blog to write an exhaustive list of free museums in London but just a few I've been to include: the Natural History Museum, the Science Museum, the V&A, Tate Modern, Tate Britain, the Museum of London, the National Gallery and the National Portrait Gallery. There are museums spread across all of London, so they can prove a convenient option when you need the toilet. Extra benefits include the fact that they're usually very clean and pleasant (for toilets) with no queues, and you get to look at some interesting stuff while you're in the building!

Little Venice
I discovered these recently. For those who don't know, Little Venice is an area five minutes from Warwick Avenue and Maida Vale tube stations, where the Grand Union Canal and Regents Canal meet. It's picturesque, with little gardens, lots of water (obviously) and copious amounts of pretty canal boats/barges. You can take a trip on a narrowboat from Little Venice to London Zoo or Camden Lock. There are some free toilets here in the little gardens - only a couple of cubicles, and not the nicest of toilets but hey, they're free. I visited during a festival when the area was packed, so the queue was pretty awful, but I'd guess it isn't too bad the rest of the time.

Hyde Park
I spotted these while wandering through Hyde Park last week - they're south of the the Serpentine, just by the lido. I didn't use these myself, so can't make any further comment. It is vaguely possible that there was a pay point hidden inside, but they certainly looked like they were free. Maybe one of my readers can confirm!

Well, that's it - a pretty short list currently. I'm not sure if this is representative of how few public toilets there are in London or just because I haven't found many yet. So if you know of any free conveniences in London, let me know and I'll add them to the list!

Swapsies!

A couple of years ago, I wrote about one of the real reasons behind my holiday obsession (What's really important). Much as I love sun, exploring, doing new things and seeing new places, a major reason for my love of holidays was the quality time I got to spend with my family. Up until a couple of years ago, my husband had been a teacher (as was I, pre-kids). Anyone who has been or known a teacher will understand that the 'long holidays' thing is a bit of a myth. My husband spent evenings and weekends working. He spent much of the 'holiday' time working. And when he wasn't working, he was thinking about work. It was only when we went away on holiday and he physically couldn't work that he would actually start to relax. He would spend the first day or so visibly uncomfortable, clearly thinking about the things he should/could have been doing, and feeling frustrated that he couldn't do any of them. But after that, once it was clear that he couldn't do anything about it, he would relax and start to enjoy the holiday, and we would actually get quality time together without the spectre of work hanging over us. Since he gave up teaching, things have been so much better. We get evenings and weekends together. And much as I still love my holidays, they have become less 'necessary' in terms of ensuring family time.

My last blog was all about going on too many holidays (Too many holidays? Okay, I concede). At least, that's what it looks like at first glance. Dig a bit deeper, and you'll realise I'm moaning about two things: too many short holidays and too much work. And it's just started to dawn on me that in many ways I've swapped places with my husband.

First things first, let's make it clear: I haven't actually got too much work. I only work part-time, and this year was the first time in years I've earned enough to pay tax, so I'm clearly not working 'too much'. However, because I 'only' work part-time, I'm also responsible for the children and for the house, and this means that only a little bit of work can feel like a lot when it's on top of everything else. You see, as well as the obvious jobs, like the washing, cooking, cleaning, school run and cooking, there are all those niggly little things that also need doing - things like paying bills; making sure birthday cards and presents are bought, written, wrapped and sent; filling in school forms; making sure homework is done; and a whole host of other things that don't sound like much but actually take up a lot of time. I could spend an hour a day doing things that don't 'show' and don't feel productive but without which things would start to quietly fall apart. For example, in the last couple of days, I've filled in a whole bunch of forms for Cubs and Scouts; logged onto online banking to pay a credit card bill; organised a costume for my son's French day at school; remembered to feed my son's triops (look it up!); and ordered and collected a prescription for the cat's flea and worm medication, among other things, and top of work and the usual chores. Ask most working parents and they'll tell you that it's staying on top of these 'little' things that often pushes them over the edge.

The other reason why work can often feel too much is due to the nature of being self-employed - I work as a freelance copy-editor and proofreader. And while there are many advantages to working from home and being in charge of your own time, there are disadvantages too. Work is like buses - you can go some time without much or any work and then all of a sudden loads comes at once. And the trouble is, because you've spent time without work - or you know you might do again in the future - you don't feel like you can turn work down when you get it, and so you agree to everything. The trouble is, if you turn down a job, you're not necessarily losing just that job - the client will have to go elsewhere, and there's a risk they may return to that 'elsewhere' for their next job too, so you may be turning down future work as well. And because you don't get paid sick pay or holidays, you feel extra pressure to take on work when you get it. As you can imagine, holidays can be a particular issue, as no one covers for you while you're away - I often end up working all hours before I go away and as soon as I come back so that I don't have to turn anything down. The end result is that although sometimes I have very little work, and can comfortably fit in a little 'me time' as well as housework and childcare, other times I end up taking on more that I can comfortably manage, and have to work evenings and weekends just to get it completed. And when I'm not working, I'm thinking about work and all the things I should be doing. Yup, I sound just like my husband.

So why did my last blog post complain about having too many holidays? At the beginning of this post, I said that holidays were the only time when my husband managed to relax, so why isn't it the same for me? The key is in the word 'short'. At the beginning of this post, I also mentioned that my husband would spend the first day or two worrying about not being able to work, and it would take him a couple of days before he could relax. And because the majority of my 'holidays' this year have been short breaks, I've not really had the time to chill out and forget about work. I have spent the first couple of days or so worrying about the work I should be doing and then, just as I should be able to start relaxing, I have had to come home again. Add the extra work needed to accommodate the holiday in the first place, not to mention the usual holiday organisation, and the holidays have actually ended up adding to the stress rather than relieving it. We end up with a vicious circle where I'm working all hours and in desperate need of a holiday, and then said holiday results in me working all hours to make up (and pay) for it. And as my husband takes the kids out at the weekend so that I can get some work done, and as I say no to watching a film together or going out for lunch because I can't spare the time, I realise: I have become my husband.

For once, there's no real conclusion to this post. I still stand by everything I said at the end of my last post. I need to practise saying 'no' more - no to more work than I can comfortably manage, no to badly timed days/nights out or short breaks, and no to those little mundane things that shouldn't stress you out but somehow impact so much on your time. I need to switch off from work when I'm not actually working, making use of my auto-reply, not checking my emails and making a concerted effort not to think about work during my spare time. I need to schedule in time to enjoy the simple things like reading, exercising, getting out in nature - even just watching Netflix with my husband and sharing a tub of Ben & Jerry's. I had already realised the importance of these things, but it's only since noticing the parallels between my behaviour and my husband's that I have realised just how important it is to achieve that work-life balance. I don't want to spend my life living for my two-week summer holiday or my week in October - that's just wishing life away. I want to live the rest of it, to enjoy my evenings and weekends and my short breaks - hell, to enjoy my work (which I actually kinda do, when I'm not feeling pressured). I don't know a magic answer, but I'm working on achieving this. It's hard to change your habits or your mindset, but I'm well aware of the trap I'm falling into, and I'm determined to drag myself out of it rather than fall in deeper. Things are slowly changing for the better. Despite being super-busy with work the week before, I made sure I didn't think about work when I was away for my sister's wedding recently. I refused to check my email and we made time to catch up with friends, go for a walk and have fun with the kids. I can't say I was physically relaxed when we got home (I was shattered!) but I certainly felt better mentally. Work was very busy in the week after I got back, due to an unavoidable deadline, but I made sure I took time off at the weekend (even though it was tempting not to) to enjoy the sun and spend time with my family. This week, work has calmed down. Instead of using the spare time to do all those other jobs I keep putting off, I have fitted in some exercise, activities with the kids and some good old time in front of the TV. Tomorrow I'm catching up with some friends for brunch, and I won't feel guilty about it. I have spent enough of my spare time working recently that I shouldn't feel guilty about enjoying the spare time I have this week. I confess I still really can't wait until my two weeks in France in August, when it will be impossible to do any work and I really will be able to relax and forget about it. But until then, I am going to enjoy the other things in life: the bigger things, like the two other weddings I have coming up, the night away to celebrate my mum's birthday and the concert in London with my husband, but also the 'smaller' things, like just spending time with those people who matter to me. At the risk of sounding like a cliche, life really is short and we shouldn't waste it worrying about work. Much as I generally enjoy my job, I work to live rather than the other way round - and if that's you too, make sure you get out and live that life you're working so hard to have!

Taking the time to appreciate the beauty of Corbridge on my recent trip to Northumberland