My mistake was telling the seven year old about easyJet roulette. A sniff of a plane trip and he’s like a Bloodhound. Possibly because those flights are pretty much the only time him and his brother are allowed free rein (reign surely works here too?) over the iPad. Not to mention the Huawei that the sales guy needlessly threw in as a freebie when their dad upgraded his phone handset. (Why?)
The rules are simple: pick some dates and scroll through each easyJet destination hunting out the cheapest. Parameters are optional but super early or late departures were out, or so I thought. As were any flights longer than two hours. It had worked so well last year, with Porto coming in the clear victor. And very lovely it was too, not least because we discovered a gem of a resort – something of an oxymoron – up in the hills, in the form of a turn-of-the-last-century mineral water bottling plant that now sports ultra-chic eco cabins for rent. (Pedras Salgadas, should anyone want the tip.)
There was one extra handicap that hadn’t applied last year: I’d be solo. Sorry, I mean solo in charge of three small people, including, for added fun, an opinionated 18 month old who, it would transpire, had strong feelings – and even stronger vocal chords – on being robbed of her bag at airport security. But I’m jumping ahead. Could I fly on my own with the three of them? Should I? Would I?
Quite possibly, I’d have bottled it, had Louis not got himself involved, notably at 9.30pm on a school night when he “couldn’t sleep”. By then, he knew Spain was on the cards, specifically Asturias, the secret northern region that is almost untouched by British holidaymaker for no other reason than it tends to be wet. Naturally, in the manner of all things easyJet, I deliberated for so long that the cost of getting us all to my roulette winner had jumped, but only by £80.
More worryingly, I found that the easy morning return had turned into a late night horror when I needed to shorten the trip to, er, just two nights. Which sounds nuttishly brief, but I figured being on my own would make the three days feel like an eternity. Plus downgrading from a hotel to an Airbnb, suddenly made our jaunt to Asturias better value than a cottage in the New Forest, my vanilla alternative. But, hey, what’s a trip without a challenge?
Of course I booked the flights.
suzeletter 