A compulsory part of my holidays/fam trips/weekend away, is a scrap-book. Nothing is more satisfying than a full book full of photos, souvenirs, bits of rubbish really to other people. But for me, a scrapbook is full of things that I will remember forever.
The first one I completed was during my trip to Disneyland Paris in 2016. Believe it or not this was my first time out of the country without at least one of my parents, or at least I think it was. And being the most magical place on earth, I had nothing to worry about. With my best friend by my side, we had a great weekend in Disneyland, with only a slight hiccup at the end.
Not having started my job in travel, I used the travel agency which, little did I know was to become my place of work in 6 months time. I booked my Eurostar and four nights at the Kyriad Hotel. A short bus ride from the parks it was ideal. We were on a bit of a budget so it was perfect for us. On arriving in St Pancras train station, we thought we had plenty of time so we stopped for a coffee. Only when we sat down did we realise we had five minutes to check in or we would miss the train. This is so typical of our travels, a younger (and slightly prettier, we hope) version of the Chuckle Brothers. After a mad dash to the gate and through security, we did make it. Sitting here thinking how I now do this most days now to catch my train too and from work. Ahaha.
After four fabulous days in the Magic Kingdom and Walt Disney Studios, getting up at the crack of dawn to meet Mickey, queuing forever to meet my Disney Queen, Jessie from Toy Story we were about to head home. I forgot to mention that my friend had fractured her ankle 3 days before we left for Disneyland, so she was hobbling about after 4 days in Disney. We headed to the Eurostar Station for our 14:00 train, just to find out that the train didn’t actually leave until 6:30pm! My dyslexic head got my numbers confused and we now had just less than 5 hour to kill. As my friends ankle was double the size it usually was, we thought it was better to sit and wait it out. Luckily for us it was a beautiful September day in the Disney Village, so much so I had to keep moving to hide from the sun. As a ghostly pale red-head, the rays aren’t my friend.
So with just over 4 hours to kill, we needed something to occupy our time. We had both bought a signature book which we had got a couple of characters to sign. With lots of empty pages and time to fill, with the use of nail scissors and first aid tape we both made a scrap-book to show all that we had done during our weekend. Hence, my tradition was born. On my return home, I filled the spaces I had left with photos and it was complete. A few months later, while routing around in the loft through the photo boxes, I found a whole pile of scrapbooks made by my grandparents during their holidays in their camper van. Not being keen on flying and not being quite the same experience as it is today, they drove all over Europe in their camper van, doing the same as me along the way. I always knew these books existed, but me being able to carry on this tradition me very happy.
So for every place I go I have a scrapbook. I also have a note-book which I list all the things I have done during this trips. The things I necessarily don’t have a photo of, but that I don’t want to forget. When I’m old and grey and can’t get out of my chair, let alone the country, I will be able to relive all of the memories.
travel is good for the soul 