My first ever holiday was in the UK, in the south west of England in Cornwall. But when I was 9 years old I went on my first ever plane journey to Portugal. I'd never been abroad before this age, so had never truly experienced anything like a "proper holiday."
We rented out an apartment for a week, owned by my dad's friend, self catering and I really enjoyed it. It had a communal pool, restaurants in the complex and a bus if you wanted to venture out.
Now as some of you may know I actually HATE flying with a passion, I don't talk until the seatbelt light fades away and we're classed as "safe" I don't know where my hate of flying comes from as my parents and little brother don't mind it at all. I remember this particular holiday though was before any of the plane hijackings took place and me and my little brother were actually invited to go into the cockpit, as my mum told the air hostesses this was our first time flying on an airplane.
I have never seen so many levers and buttons in my entire life and I can still vividly picture it all now.
I get a break from being on an airplane this year as I'm off on the Eurostar to Paris in a month :)
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| Not quite sure what we're doing here? |
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| The train that takes you to the beach |
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| Not quite sure of the outfit choice here mum?! See you tomorrow! Hollie x |
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