Our spontaneous Sunday

It’s three quarters of the way through the four day bank holiday week and I’m still waiting to come down from the weekend…

It was always going to be a pretty solid weekend. Date night with the husband on Friday to celebrate his new job, followed by two nights of birthday celebrations (Saturday and Sunday) with Gareth, a good friend from “back home”.

Gareth and I had grand plans, a civilized, alcohol free first evening catching up and second evening full of culinary delights, dancing and drinking with his pals. In actual fact we ended up staying up until nearly 4am the first night and eating black burgers and charcoal covered sausages the second. Best laid plans and all that…

Another of our best laid weekend plans which went awry was our decision to take a holiday together. But not just any holiday. A holiday handed to us by fate. Feeling a little dejected that my new hubby was currently preparing for his third abroad holiday of the year (the second he’s had without me!), we decided we’d throw something at a map and book ourselves a trip to wherever it landed.

As lovely as that sounds, in reality, we both decided on Sunday morning that we wanted to go to New York and weren’t willing to leave that decision in the hands of fate. After less than half an hour of Google-ing we walked to a travel agent and in probably the most spontaneous afternoon of my life, had it all booked in less than an hour of chatting to her about what we wanted for our money (while texting Mark to forewarn him I was back on the slippery slope to spending yet more money!)


So naturally, you can see why I’m still waiting for my post bank holiday, back to work comedown to kick in. Every time it creeps a little closer I suddenly remember: “NEW YORK!” and I’m back on cloud nine. It’s somewhere I’ve wanted to visit for as long as I can remember and the only thing that’s close to triggering my come down is that we’re only there for three days… Better get cramming all the sights into our organisers!