Well - we made it!
Lapland in 2012 was achieved....
But with side issues - mainly the really shite company we travelled with (Transun)...more of that later.
We were incredibly excited...got all our base layers, balaclavas, hats, gloves scarves ready.
Passports ready.
Alarm clock set.
4am on a cold Saturday morning.
Nonetheless - we were 'up & on it' having slept reasonably well and out of the door by 5am.
By 6am we were checked in at Exeter Airport - a small provincial airport an hour away.
Through security.
Boiling hot.
Bloody hell - these base layers are good.
Stripping off
Cappuccinos & croissants for breakfast.
A slight delay - booo
A call for the plane - hurrah
Onto a super Thomson's flight direct to the Arctic Circle. The staff were excellent! Christmas entertainment packs for the kids, colouring competitions, sing-along-carols, looking out for flying reindeers.
We arrived 3.5 hours later.
A perfect snow scene - landing on ice.
Skid on the runway..
Cheers when we finally halted.
And tears from me for reaching an epic goal.
Through security & onto a coach, taking us through the most spectacular snow-bound scenery I have ever witnessed.
It was pitch dark (no sunrise in North Pole) - but gloriously scenic, snow covered trees, the odd Christmas light.
A winter wilderness.
A sheer delight.
Glad to be alive.
We arrived to be suited and booted in ultra-warm arctic clothing and we bussed to our final destination.
Yes...
We went Husky Sleigh riding
Reindeer sleigh riding
Tobogganing
Sampled rustic fayre
And took a snowmobile sledge ride into the deep dark forest to find the real Santa.
As promised.
And paid for.
Sounds great doesn't it?
And I sooo want to tell you it was.
But it wasn't.
We were let down BIG TIME by Transun Holidays.
Misrepresentation, false claims, shoddy reps, poor safety - the list goes on.
But their worst offence?
'Come and meet the real Santa in his homeland' their brochure boasts.
The very fake Brian Blessed'esque Santa was BRITISH - for God's sake
And Lily spotted the glue behind the fake moustache
Our dream
Our goal
Shattered by an inept, misleading, greedy Travel company.
We put a brave face on for Lily of course. We joked about the glue - 'perhaps Santa likes to wax his beard to make it pretty' we laughed. 'Nah....he wasn't the real one'. We joked about the inept reps, the lack of elves, the lack of anybody resembling a Finn..
We made her magic for her - Transun couldn't be arsed.
And we focused on reaching a huge milestone in this story of mine.
But it's going to cost you Transun.
We still have to find the real Santa.
In his homeland.
As you promised.
And I WILL make you pay.
Nobody plays such a cruel trick on my Lily and gets away with it.
The wheels are in motion
I've already been quoted in a travel magazine
My letter of compalint is in
ABTA informed
Trading standards next
Then the Red Tops
I'm back for sure....
Watch this space!
You ain't seen nothing yet!!
On the 28th July 2011, my life changed in one phone call with the simple words - 'yes - it's cancer'. I've created this blog, for the benefit of my wonderful close and extended family; and for my amazing friends around the globe, so I can keep you abreast (!) of my journey.
This will not be a sad tale - but I hope it will amuse you, inspire you, and most of all allow me to lean on you from afar, as you guide me through what looks like a rocky road ahead.
I can't guarantee a happy ending, but hope to make you laugh to the end.
My diagnosis of 2 x grade 3 (fast growing) tumours - type - 'Triple-Negative' - so called
because it doesn’t
have receptors (proteins on the surface
of cells) for the hormones oestrogen and
progesterone, or a protein called HER2, was shocking. This rare aggressive sub-type of breast cancer, therefore, doesn't respond to common
hormonal treatments, such as tamoxifen or
anastrozole (Arimidex®
) or
trastuzumab (Herceptin®
). Survival rates are considerably lower, than for more common types of breast cancer, especially in years 0 - 5, but on a par 5+ years post treatment.
Fast forward to December 2020. Secondary cancer . Triple negative again but the tumour localised to the scar of the primary cancer. The prognosis is weaker. I am buying myself time - with chemo currency.
This will not be a sad tale - but I hope it will amuse you, inspire you, and most of all allow me to lean on you from afar, as you guide me through what looks like a rocky road ahead.
I can't guarantee a happy ending, but hope to make you laugh to the end.
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