The key to my nothing-like-home away from home is already in the lock, when the phone rings.
“Mmm?” I manage, squishing my phone between shoulder and face, three bags in two hands, hat unnecessarily on head, and a piece of toast wedged into the corner of my mouth.
“Hey you!” yells Stephen, offensively happy for four o’clock in the morning.
“Shhh,” I splutter, having just choked on the toast in fright.
“Happy Anniversary, wife!” he shouts.
“I’m not your wife,” I say, piling one suitcase onto the other and holding the phone a little further away from my ear.
“We’re going horse riding,” Stephen announces, clearly delighted by his own sense of exquisite romance.
“I don’t want to go horse riding.”
“On Table Mountain,” he continues. “You’ll love it.”
“No I won’t.”
“It’ll be very romantic.”
“No it won’t.”
“Pack your horse riding pants.” Continue reading “Planes, Manes and Bad Decisions”