We had booked well in advance for our trip to Malta as both Clare and I had already signed up to the Vodafone Malta Marathon and Half Marathon. Thankfully, we also had babysitters on hand to cheers us in in the guise of my Ma n PA (who had only just arrived back on terra firma from their last jaunt). Whilst on the way to the airport, my Pa was telling us that he had been sat up until 4am trying to secure us another apartment as the one we had booked had cancelled on him a mere 12 hours before our flight. Thankfully, all was now sorted and we had a new place to check into on arrival in Sliema.
Our transfer mini bus was waiting for us at the airport as planned, but as soon as we gained internet connection a frightful email arrived. Our new apartment had cancelled our accommodation, we were homeless in a foreign country. As I had been only a couple of years earlier, I knew of a superb donut shop that we could sit down, re-assess and find a new, new base.
After searching high and low we decided to romp across town and edge our bets at a small student hotel a short walk from the finish line of the marathon. The staff here could not be faulted, they listened to our plight and offered us everything they had (and even at a discounted rate). The rooms were nothing like what we had initially booked, but we were glad of a bed to rest our weary legs.
This purely was a whistle stop visit to the tiny island and we had convinced (although much convincing is never necessary) our great friends the Beewells to partake in a little jaunt as well.
On Saturday we took a trip to the stunning city of Valletta via ferry, sampled rabbit pie and local spirits, had a good old mooch and then headed back to Sliema for a hearty carb loaded evening meal before early to bed ready to cover most of the island in the morning on legs.
To find out how we did in the run, you will have to read the post dedicated to that one, but it was a bloody hot day again.
We headed back home with medals round our necks, one less toenail than we had arrived with and my ma had sustained bruising after diving off a high kerb under a bus!
With only three days away, there was enough happening to make this weekend break one to remember.
This story starts as all good stories do,
Once upon a time....
The time was just past daft o'clock and we were sat waiting for our filter bus to turn up. This short (in comparison) journey would take us to our magical carriage, cross the water to a foreign land and then cover a little more distance till we arrived in the land were dreams really do come true.
Unfortunately, our magical carriage was a little further from the luxury we had originally anticipated. Just a few miles short of Cannock, only an hour into our journey there was a loud pop. One of the back wheels had burst and the only place suitable for the sleepy travelers on board was a greasy spoon road side truck stop. The "cafe" inside was dingy, grubby and the free magazines to keep us entertained were "Truckers Weekly" and "Tractor Weekly". With a baby girl who was 1 year and 364 days old, the Coach seemed much more entertaining.
3 hours later, the tire was changed and we were back on our journey, thankfully, there had been a few extra collections done and that meant less stops for us on route to the White Cliffs.
Just to top things off, the air conditioning seemed to be struggling on the old coach and instead of pumping out fresh air and instead been pumping out hot, musty air. We were all ready to jump off and onto the ferry.
Our final stretch into the Magical Kingdom on the French side of the border was thankfully not as eventful. Our little daughter, who was absolutely amazing on this arduous 17 hour journey was ready for bed when we arrived. She had a big day ahead of her.
We were staying at the Cheyenne complex which is themed around the Wild West. Our room was adorned with Toy Story pictures, banners and lamps all picked from Woody's Round Up. The streets were dusty, the buildings rustic and the setting truly authentic. My fear had been that the Paris version of the American Dream would be a ginger cousin, not wanted and without soul. (Only joking, some ginger have been known to have souls) I was very wrong, this truly was very, very impressive.
As we walked toward breakfast, Isabella, who was now celebrating her 2nd birthday, was a little overwhelmed by everything going on, but mummy and daddy had promised that we would see the Mouse today. When we arrived at the buffet breakfeast, Pluto was waiting for us. Initially we thought the huge dog with big nose and massive head would be a little too much for our girl, but she ran over with open arms and hugged that puppy like it was her own.
This trend continued for the rest of the day. As we entered the park with it's magical Princess Castle, we hugged Donald, Goofy, Gepeto, we rode in tea cups and boats, we flew on magic carpets and spun around in crazy cars. We rode horses on a carousel, visited a small, small world multiple times and watched parades with all our favourite characters. Nearing the end of the day, we opted to join a reasonably large queue to go and see the main Mouse himself. I think the build up throughout the day may have been a little too much for this newly turned two year old as Mickey sang Happy Birthday, Isabella just stood staring at him in amazement. He was here and singing a song to her that she had only just learnt the words to. This was a perfect end to a perfect day, but how else to close of a big birthday celebration than with the biggest fireworks display your eyes have ever seen. Again, I hate to compare to the American version, but the firework show in Paris was phenomenal. A collection of a visual spectacular and an audio delight, the fireworks danced to the story being projected onto the huge castle in the middle of the park. What a way to spend a birthday!
Our second day, we decided to head into the second park, the smaller of the two but still a must see. Here we started in Toy Story land, had conversations with Stitch, watched stormtroopers and Jedi fight in the streets, take in movie magic and enjoy another fantastic parade.
Like all good stories though, they have to come to an end at some point, and this little girls magical dream was coming to a close. All that stood before us was another 14 hour coach trip (this time without punctures), at least this time they had sorted the air conditioning, just a shame the volume on the TV was turned up to 11! Thankfully, our angel had two amazing, full days and the gentle motion of the coach, ferry, coach again and filter bus were just what she needed. 13 hours and 57 minutes later she woke up with a smile.
Post Edit, for those that think a two year old will not remember an experience like this, Isabella still tells us of things she did at the park, how she spent her 2nd birthday with the Mouse and his friends, she talks of the rides and fun she had, and also the fireworks that were specially for her birthday. Even if she only remembers this for 12 months, it was worth every second to see her smile and stare in awe at the magic and wonder that surrounded her.
