The pursuit of holidayness - 50 shades of SPF and Flambe is not my friend!

As the plane landed on UK soil I felt an intense mixture of relief and pride.  I'd done it!  I'd set myself the challenge of going on holiday and I had succeeded.  In one year, I had completed one of my goals.

Challenge truly is the word to use.  Taking yourself from your comfort zone and experiencing a new country is daunting after a life-changing trauma.  I used to think nothing of sitting at close range to Greek Zorba dancing with flaming tables, snorkeling with sea-life or laying out in the searing sun.  Now everything feels like it could be a danger.  I am far more cautious nowadays.

This hyper-vigilance is something that had quietened down over the year and sat quietly in the background most of the time.  Yet in Turkey it reared it's irritating head once again, making it difficult to relax.  When you go on your first post-accident holiday, do expect this.  You are in a strange country with unfamiliar surroundings and you may be crazily observant and slightly illogical!

Before I list some of the things I found difficult, I must sing Turkey's praises.  We stayed near Side, a beautiful harbour town in Antalya.  The weather wavered between scorchers of 34 - 44 degrees Celsius and the vivid blue skies only emphasised the lush green of the country.  I was surprised - I expected Turkey to be reveal acres of parched, browned soil but instead it was lush; spilling over with greenery.  In fact, as the warm dusk fell, I looked out my coach window I could have been looking on English meadows complete with pylons!

We saw sea-turtles and dolphins, drank mojitos, bartered and went para-sailing.  Despite feeling on edge a lot of the time I must stress that I wouldn't have wanted to miss out on the experience.

Fifty shades of SPF

The holiday read of the year it seems...and the advice of the year!  I managed to cope in the heat and sunlight with great preparation.  I never went out in the sun without my 50 SPF UV rash vest on.  On a boat trip I wore it the entire time and I couldn't have been without it.  In the sea and the pool I strutted around like it was a fashion item.  It was hot, sticky and uncomfortable.  BUT I didn't catch a single ray through it's 50 SPF weave and the 50 SPF I'd slathered on underneath.  It made me feel safer.

I was a patchwork of suncream!  I had thick, gloopy sunblock on my scars, even under my rash vest and on my donor site.

My face fared slightly better; it was treated to a better brand of 50 SPF suncream.  I made sure I also did my lips and ears, as I'd burned these in the accident.

The rest of me was covered in 30 SPF, regularly.  It was less thick and white than the 50!

Then...to top it all off...I sat in the shade.  We were lucky because our beach had a slight breeze and miles of canopies so I could lay in relative comfort.  Even through the 50 shades of SPF I developed a faint golden glow on legs and lower arms.  And despite these lengthy precautions, my face pigmented slightly, as did my lower arm.  It goes to show you can't be too careful.

Fakir shows, fire-eaters and flambe!

One of the most difficult things to contend with during the holiday was the Turkish love of fire.  I encountered flames on at least 5 occasions. These were not small flames, but flambes and fire-eating fuelled by petrol canisters.

Terrifying.

I had a horrible experience in the first week.  We booked the Cuban Restaurant at the hotel and we had just finished our soup starters when the maitre'd wheeled out a polished chrome trolley with a little gas ring on it, a single saucepan and a substantial glass of brandy.

I'm not sure if I've ever seen a flambe before and I was not prepared.  He stood at the table next to us and threw the alcohol in the pan.  WUMPH!!!  A huge explosion of flame roared up, filling my vision.  The orange and blue flames licked the ceiling.  Then it was gone.  I felt a roil of panic tsunami over me and the tears sprang to my eyes at such speed, I had no control.  I got up, left the restaurant immediately and could not return.

I don't normally have such a strong reaction to flames - if you're talking candles!  Yet the flambe and the fire-eaters I ran away from (twice) are a completely different fire-game.  They have an accelerent involved and an explosion is caused, similar in form to the one which harmed me last year.  This is why my reaction is so strong.

Other things you might encounter are sparklers, bonfires and flaming hoops!!!

Can you smell gas???

A more illogical pet hate of mine is the smell of gas or the appearance of gas canisters.  They make me feel stressed and on guard.  Unfortunately there were canisters everywhere.  Staff wheeled them from area to area and they were often very obviously placed.  Some shops even had drums pinioned to steel struts above their roofs, providing their abode with gas.  Occasionally a whiff of gas floated towards you, enough to alert my internal panic alarm.

I was also a bit concerned about the music on the speed-boat and the pirate boat.  Electrical wires snaked threateningly out of the speakers and systems, winding their insidious way across damp decks and basking in the baking sun.  Water and electric....???  Hmmmm.  I tried turn my mind away from these constant observations and concentrate on the inspiring lyrics of J-Lo and Casper being pumped out instead.

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Mostly I knew my safety concerns were groundless but knowing this doesn't make you feel much better about it!  The one thing that did make me feel better was SLEEP!!!  It sounds silly but when I was over-tired I became paranoid about things like the above.  Getting over-tired is pretty impossible to avoid when travelling but on holiday you must get enough sleep (and not drink too much) otherwise you will be as jumpy as a kangaroo.  Once I'd had a good night's kip my concern over gas canisters seemed laughable and the previous night's fire antics seemed a distant nightmare....almost.

And they all holidayed happily ever after.

It was wonderful to be able to do what the old me could do.  This was enough in itself to boost my confidence and of course...book the next holiday!  I'll dust off my vests, dig out the sun-cream and travel the world.  (Ok....the Canary Islands.)   Bring it on!