We haven’t been at home in nearly 4 years. Alex was just a little baby the last time we were home, and Emma has been yet. Michael and I talk regularly about going home, but it really just isn’t something that appeals to us. The hassle alone involved in getting there just turns me right off ever wanting to go back. But at least once a day Alex asks me when are we going to see Nana and Grandad. When you have little people handing you the equivalent of 10 cent in 1s and telling you that is all that you need to pay for the flights, it really pulls on your heart. However, there are a lot of factors at play when we decide to go home.
We spend an obscene amount of money on flights
I honestly believe I could get to anywhere in the world for cheaper than I can get home to Ireland. Pre Alex and Emma we have flown unsociable hours, all night and spent long hours wandering around the most obscure airports just to spent a week at home. I found it hard enough at the time but now, it would be my worst nightmare with two kids in tow (and I am also rapidly approaching old age so I should be afforded some comforts!). Trying to find flights that connect with a relatively short connection time and that don’t bankrupt us in nigh on impossible. Now don’t forget to add-on baggage and the car seats and we are looking at upwards of €1,500 JUST FOR FLIGHTS. Don’t forget that we have to rent a car and somewhere to stay too.
We spend our time visiting other people instead of having a ‘holiday’
This is a hard one to discuss without sounding completely ungrateful but I really dislike going back to Ireland and spending the entire time visiting family and friends. It’s not that I don’t want to see these people, I really do. BUT when we get one week to relax and spend time as a family, I don’t want to spend my days wrestling the kids into the car seats and listening to the sat nav send us into the nearest river/lake/sea.
Crying because IT NEVER STOPS RAINING!
I cannot cope with rain. Seven years of sun, virtually 365 days a year has spoiled me. I rejoice when we get the odd day of rain, here in Cyprus, and if it rains during the summer you will see me outside dancing in it, but that is all I can cope with – 1 day. I need sun. My body cannot cope with the rain. It does funny things and causes me a lot of pain. So when I come home to Ireland and it rains all the time, I cry. A lot.
Finding it all ‘too hectic’
Compared to a lot of countries, I guess that it could be said that the Irish live at a slower pace than most. Unfortunately, compared to the Cypriots, the Irish are the Olympic gold medalists of the 100 meter sprint. Cyprus is so laid back we are virtually horizontal, so I find being in Ireland stressful. I have unfortunately become accustomed to the slow way of life here, and the answer to everything being “siga, siga” which translates to slowly slowly. It is also possible that I am finding it too hectic because I am driving all over the country – who knows.
Because I end up needing another holiday
As I get back on the plane, exhausted and dreading the 24 hours it will take to return to Cyprus, I find myself needing another holiday. I wonder was the last week or five worth it and how long it will take me to catch up on lost sleep from this hideous journey home.
Not only do we regularly debate about going home on holiday, but we always talk about whether we should move home permanently. There will be a whole separate post about why we won’t be leaving Cyprus anytime soon as I could be listing reasons to stay for hours.
I love seeing our family and eating some foods that we desperately miss, but on the whole I find that I just don’t ‘fit’ Ireland any more. To me, Ireland is like an old friend who will always be there for me when I need it, but that is it. We see family and friends as often as they can visit and they bring the all important food with them – so we don’t miss out there either. I find the urge to back to Ireland has long left me.