It has taken me a long time to write this post as I have been so disappointed by what happened and felt upset every time I thought about it! But I can finally talk about it and wanted to share with you our disastrous family holiday from a few weeks ago. It took much convincing to my husband that caravans are lovely and I spent a long time trying to persuade him by telling him of the fond memories I have of caravan holidays as a child. He eventually agreed and we booked a week self-catering at a holiday park in Woolacombe. Woolacombe is a beautiful spot in North Devon, known for it’s stunning views and award-winning beaches. I was so excited for our last little holiday as a three and some much needed family time. We had so many plans of what we wanted to do and where we wanted to go and were counting down the days until our trip. We set off on the last day of August, a Bank Holiday Monday, with the car loaded to the top. It had been a difficult 24 hours before we left, with Ted seemingly unwell, but when we woke on the Monday morning, he was his usual bright, chirpy self. Even though I myself wasn’t feeling too well, we set off for our break by the sea.
When we arrived at the holiday park we were SO impressed by how modern and clean it was – it had just had a big refurbishment and everything looked amazing. We had a good nosey around at the pool, the playpark and the on-site restaurants while we were waiting to check-in and couldn’t wait to get started. The check-in process was quick and simple, and once we had our keys we set off to check out the caravan. It was HUGE! and clean! I was so relieved. My husband thought the caravan was great too and said he was ‘pleasantly surprised!’ Phew!
It was at about this time that Ted started crying…. and wouldn’t stop. I sat with him in the caravan and he just wanted to be held and cuddled by me. He started to wheeze and grunt with his breathing and was really hot to touch. My M-I-L had met us at the caravan park and she too was concerned about Ted’s breathing and how fast it had come on. We called 111 and they advised us to take him to an out-of-hours GP, so we bundled him into the car to get him checked out. The GP was unhappy with Ted’s breathing and temperature and sent us to be seen by a pediatrician at the hospital. They thought he had some kind of viral illness, he had been sick a few times by this point and his temperature was raging. He had paracetamol and ibuprofen but his temperature just wouldn’t go down. They wanted to observe him and we ended up staying at the hospital until 1am, before returning to our sweet little holiday home.
Once we got back, although Ted’s temperature had lowered he was still unwell – really unhappy, off his food and clingy. He had absolutely no energy. In all of the stress I hadn’t been paying enough attention to my husband, and I noticed over the course of the Tuesday he was looking a little grey and being very quiet. He finally said “I… am not feeling too great….” He never complains so I knew this could potentially be bad news. He went to lay down while I stayed in the living room area looking after Ted who was drifting in and out of sleep. I was still not feeling 100% myself. We could see the buzz of activity around us on the caravan site as everyone walked past with their swimming bags, buckets and spades and picnics. The weather was lovely but we were cooped up inside our caravan feeling very sorry for ourselves.
Then it happened…. Adult male sick in a children’s cardboard sick bowl that had been taken from the hospital! Man Down! My husband had fully contracted the lurgy. I presented him with an empty washing up bowl and he stayed in the bedroom being unwell and sleeping until the next morning. He woke feeling a little better, ate some breakfast and we decided to try and salvage our holiday and planned a trip to the beach – thinking the fresh air might make us feel better. The beach was as stunning as I remembered and we enjoyed paddling in the sea amongst all the other holiday-makers. Ted was still unhappy and not his usual self and we soon ran out of steam and headed back to the caravan, where we curled up for another night of feeling sorry for ourselves.We woke up on the Thursday all feeling no better and utterly deflated. Ted’s temperature was still going up and down, and we decided to call it quits. We loaded up the car, checked-out and headed for home.I am still really sad we didn’t get to experience all the great things we had planned – we had been looking forward to our little holiday for such a long time and it turned out to be awful. I have since emailed the holiday company to see if there is anything they could do for us, but sadly not had a reply to date.
Have you had any similar holiday experiences? Let me know in the comments below! Xx