Today is day Hell. It is my time of the month and I am feeling ru-ubbish! I am well and truly devoid of carbs and I am feeling the comedown. Ed is going to Agen to meet a customer, so will drive to work by himself, to get there on time and leave the key with his secretary. I have little planned today apart from getting the girls on a bus to Ed's work, picking up the car from there, taking it to the house and wait for the telephone people to install the telephone line. Easy.

I get the girls ready and out and to Ed's work, all without a hitch. We have food packed and we are picking up a fruit hamper from Ed's work. We are on time and whilst driving to the new house, I say to Ty over my shoulder, "We've done really well so far Ty, I...oh". I have forgotten the key to the new house. Various thoughts go through my mind, like, where is Ed when I need him? Why is this happening today? Why don't we all have a set of keys, instead of one stupid garage door key? None of these are helpful, so I drive the last few hundred metres to the house and park up. There is definitely no other way of getting in there. I call the estate agent, just in case she has the actual front door key, but of course, she is off for her 2 hour shutdown lunch break. There is nothing for it, but to turn around. Poor girls are starving and bored, as am I.

We head home.

I do a drive by run in and grab the key off the side by the computer. Ed must've taken the annoying bit of plastic the electrician put on it. I also collect the keys to the filing cabinet - bonus! Get back to the house, try the key - er...no freaking way! It's the wrong key. Turns out Ed hadn't taken the plastic "keyring" off; I had just picked up the wrong key. Off we go, back to the apartment. Leave car outside, girls in it, run in, pick key up and head back.

We get there in time. Thank goodness I'd set out early. Get girls in the house, which is covered in dirt. The telephone guys arrive - brill. We are getting somewhere. They fanny around for a while looking at various things outside and then come in to tell me that the cables are laid about one metre away from the place they should be in and there is nothing that they can do about it.

I should have known this was not going to be a good day.

So today is like, day four or five or something. I am coping well without carbs. I have resisted the call of the refined carbohydrate and even had to get a 'Baguette de Campagne" (beautiful wholemeal, floured crusty baguette) from the boulangerie, which Tyla then passed to me saying, "Aaah, Mum, feel it, it's still warm." Nice.

No, eating is not a problem. I have felt a little icky in my stomach yesterday and today, but I think it's just the richness of the food being a little too much for me that early, plus being a woman, we have monthly occurrences which can throw you a little off, too. I have been sticking to tea with almond milk for brekkie and maybe a banana or a grapefruit, with a handful of nuts.

We went with Ed this morning, so we could take the car after we dropped him off and went to the new house. The electrician was there, as arranged, finishing off the sockets and lights. He had a generator going and the floor was covered with screws, tools, dust - just a building site really. So I am now not sure what to do. I load Nina in the buggy to go for a walk, but realise that if we go for a walk, once she's asleep we wont be able to come back to the house with generator blaring. I get her out of the buggy and put her back in the car. I decide to go straight to CAF in Pessac; I get the address from my iPhone and punch it into the sat nav. A 7 minute drive away. perfect.

We find it and park a few hundred metres down the road. I check that the parking bay for any "No parking" signs, find none, unload with the help of Tyla, check we have all our documents and head up to CAF. It is in a social housing building.  Makes sense. We go into the building. it looks quiet. It's closed. of course it is. This is France after all, where everything is always bloody shut. This CAF is closed Wednesday (to stop all and sundry being there with there kids I suppose), Friday and for this week especially, it is closed everyday. Perfect.

We walk back to the car. Load up and I have a text from Ed telling me that the Orange Internet Box is ready for collection from a bar in Eysine, with the address. Now, I am not sure I can think of anywhere more random to pick up my Internet modem. Perhaps maybe a swimming pool or a strip club? But so long as it's there, I'm not really too fussed what kind of establishment it is. I call Ed to let him know my plans, but he tells me I need to go back to the house as there is another electric guy from ERDF installing the electricity boxes outside the two houses at 10. It's 10:05. I get going, arrive and the nice man is done. He gives me some paperwork and it all seems to have gone to plan.

Wrong again!

It turns out that now we need to wait up to 5 working days for an electricity provider to connect us from the street to the house. Once this is done, we need the home electrician to connect the box to house. Now this all seems like madness. I'm no electrician, but seeing as they've rigged the electrics up the front of the house, it would seem only logical that just a flick of a switch or two (I really don't know anything about electrics) and 'Voila!', we should be switched on?

Inevitably, I am left pretty frustrated and helpless to assist with resolving this due to the language barrier. Ed comes to the rescue and in between working, he badgers everyone possible until we finally get word that we will have electricity Saturday morning. This is good news, because our friends are coming to visit Sunday night and we were just beginning to work out the logistics of 'glamping' in the house!

I am struggling a little with the new diet and not being near a functional kitchen at all times. The heat is also wearing and all my snacks have to be eaten pretty quickly before they turn to mush or just plain yuk. I am grateful that I have Tyla with me and Ed on the end of a phone whenever I need him. Nothing is easy, but for now I am happy I have made it through another day without losing my sanity (completely).

I have no plans today, other than to look after the lovely girls, wait in for the estate agent to come and collect the house keys from us and then meet Ed at work later, so we can go to the house. We are going to sign all the tenancy paperwork. We are pretty excited about this, as it makes our move finally seem like a reality. After many false starts, like our initial moving in date of June 1st, I am pleased 'real' moving day is actually upon us. Yes, not excited, just pleased. Excited came and went about 2-3 weeks ago.

I am feeling fine about not eating processed food, and am being optimistic about the impact this could have on my overall health and my life. I have eaten a large omelette and lardons for a late breakfast and had a grapefruit for lunch, still full from my morning big protein-fest. I like the feeling that I may be gaining some control over what I am putting in my body to nourish it and am not too worried that the fridge is looking decidedly bare of 'good' foods and in need of sorting out.

Nina has 2 epic naps today - overall sleeping for four hours. Now, I'm not one to monitor sleeping or plan nap times, so this doesn't really disrupt my day. Tyla has her iPod Touch back after a two day ban, so I'm happy to let her play on it for a while.

During the second nap, I am still in my bra and pants. I am on the computer with my clean clothes next to me, ready to be ironed and thrown on at some point during the nap and before the estate agent arrives at 2pm. She's 40 minutes early. Normally this would fill me with joy. Punctuality is not a known French trait and I always expect tardiness; in fact I'm partial to not being on time myself. This serves me well most of the time, because if I am on time and they are late, I am not disappointed. Also, if I am late, they are generally later than me. Conversely if someone is on time, when I am also on time, I am pleasantly surprised. If they are early and I am late, well, I imagine it is fairly annoying for them, but I try not to let it get me down.

I buzz her into the foyer and throw on my wrinkled clothes, grab the keys and run down to see her. I hand them over and that's task one out of the way. This is my cue to get off my backside and get everything ready before the wee one awakes.

Later on we get ourselves ready to meet Ed at work and head off to the tram. Nina is always a little pickle on the tram, so we have learnt to station ourselves at the very back, where there are usually two free seats, park the buggy by the non-opening doors, and let Nina 'sit' with us. This involves her climbing over everything, but also charming the pants off all the tram passengers. She waves at them and gives them her radiant toothy grin. She dances to the sound of the tram and any other repetitive noises around, which serves to remind us, there is beauty in everything.

We meet Ed at work and drive to the house. Once there, we wait for the (late) estate agent and admire the new letterbox that has been installed outside and the fact that the driveway has been levelled (although not finished) making the house look like less of a building site. She arrives and we go in. There is still work to be done, but the kitchen has been (mostly) installed and the garden has also been levelled with soil (er, looks like dust to me, but we have it on good authority that it is soil). The paintwork is not perfect and we know that the landlords have struggled to get it done, so we have long accepted that the finish will be less than perfect.

We are there for over two hours; the landlords turn up, as do the builders and it is a long drawn out free for all. Meanwhile I have a cranky baby and I am not much better; I am also distinctly aware that I did not pack enough food for one person, let alone enough to sustain this family for this long over dinnertime. I feel we are heading for a disastrous solution and as we near 8 pm, Ed says the magic words, "Take away pizza?". I am pretty down, but am trying to work with my life, not against it, so I agree.

We finally get home with pizzas, at about 8:45. I enjoy the food, have a beer for good measure and try not to beat myself up about it. After all, I knew starting under these conditions was not the perfect recipe for success. Ed tells me he has my Whole 30 book at work and I look forward to starting properly tomorrow. A shopping trip to put some good food in the fridge; some proper guidance in the shape of Dallas and Melissa Hartwig's It Starts with Food book; the prospect of being in my new house in just over a week; all postive, so I say goodbye to Day 2 and with renewed hope, I look forward to tomorrow - Day 1.

That's it. I've finally had enough. I have endured this HS now for so long and after spending another weekend in pain so bad, I could barely walk, I need some help. Whilst eating Paleo may not be the answer, I need to get on it to find out either way!

With so many of my decisions, I hate doing anything new unless I am fully prepared. Its a trait that can be positive, but on the other hand it holds me back unnecessarily (did I mention I still haven't handed in my first unit of TEFL, just in case some of my answers are wrong). Now living in this one bed apartment, with no oven, one (damaged) small ceramic knife, two electric hobs and the cheapest pots and pans you could imagine and no Paleo books makes me about as far away from prepared as one can be, whilst still living in a civilised space. We also plan to go to bed earlier tonight, as I know that my random melt downs are lack of sleep related.

So, it's time to suck it up and just cut out carbs and grains, stick to what I know of the diet so far and make do. So far I have managed a whole day with no refined foods (apart from dried fruit and nuts, which I haven't read enough about). Served up rice to Ed and Ty for tea, with a chicken curry I made from scratch. It was weird not having the rice, but was so filling on its own, I don't know how I  managed to stuff in a load of carbs with my curry before?!

So day one is a success. Ed has taken my 'before' body photos. Here's hoping it won't be long before I have some noteworthy 'after' shots...

With Ed back at work and us still motivated by the joy of having our stuff back, me and the girls get up and ready and out of the door by 11 am. Result! We grab some pizza and pain au raisin from our lovely boulangerie and head over to the tram. I remember that D has told me I need coin change for the tram ticket machine and if I buy a 10 voyage 'tickart', it works out cheaper. We have plenty of 'monnaie' change from the boulangerie and buy our tickets. Just 5 minutes later and the tram arrives. We hop on it. I am carrying Nina in the Vaude rucksack, as we are still have no buggy. Ed's Mum is bringing it down soon. I am grateful to be able to get out with the rucksack and find that staying thankful is the only way to stay motivated! The tram is always a little adventure and a nice way to check out all the beautiful buildings along the way. 

We alight at Gambetta and walk around Bordeaux, with Nina generally being well behaved, considering the heat and her irksome teeth. It is good to be out, but tough, too. We visit various 'immobiliers' and get a varied response. I guess there is not as much money in renting properties as there is in selling. Some are kind and some are just downright rude, answering the 'phone mid meeting and serving others. I am aware this is more of a cultural thing and if I want them to pay attention to me, I will have to be less British and demand they serve me and not anyone else.  It is more frustrating as I have Nina to look after at the same time. Once again, I thank God for Ty as she helps entertain the wee one so much. After at least 3 different agencies, we stop at MacDonald's for a drink. It's never ideal is it, but you can always rely on it having a toilet with a baby changing area, drinks for kids and free wifi! 

We head home and arrange to meet D and her boys in the local park, called Peixotto. We pop home to get Ty's bike and walk the short 500 metres to meet them. It's so nice to see them and feel like we have some other friends here, when Ed's at work. The heat is pretty unbearable, but we manage to find some shaded areas to base ourselves in to watch the kids. There is a fair sized play area, with swings and slides, in a fenced off section of the park. I am pretty knackered by now and dealing with a crawling baby in a play park is pretty intense. We don't stay long and head off to the local Casino supermarket to get some supplies.

At home, Ed met us on doorstep. In all we have done approximately 7 hours of walking, for me it has all been with Nina on my back. The day reached 33 degrees and we are hot and just plain exhausted. Roll on tomorrow....

So this morning we piled in the van, with Nina taking up plenty of room in her car seat and Tyla and I squashed up together in what should only have been a seat for one. I justify that this minor infraction is nothing in the grand scheme of things and we manage to get the seat belt round both of us quite easily. Ed tells me that when he was young they had a special car air mattress and he and his brother and sister would sleep in the back of the car on their trips from Brittany to Ireland. Not a seat belt in sight! Funny how things have changed.

We drive near Sauternes to a little village called Noaillon, where a friend's parents have a holiday home and kindly agree to let us store our stuff there. We drive through a little village called Manhot. This is funny right? Just like when someone falls over, silly play on words never get old! 

It takes us most of the morning to unpack. Ty was pleased to see her bike and had a little ride around, but mostly she looked after Nina, which mainly involved making she sure she didn't eat too much mud, or crawl off any fo the little walls. I dipped in and out of the packing and helped Ty with Nina. It's good practice for Tyla to watch Nina, but I don't expect her to shoulder the responsibility of watching her alone, especially as Nina is a little grouchy and is teething. My breaks are often to breastfeed and in this heat I am doing it as much as she demands. We finally get it all done and head home, exhausted. We bring Tyla's bike, helmet and a few kitchen and toiletry essentials from our stuff.

 It is good to finally have everything back with us, even if it's not with with us! 

Whilst we try and find a house, car, other essential ingredients for living, we are very much aware that we will be having to collect our stuff from kent very soon. We have thought about how we are going to manage logistically, collecting the stuff with the the two girls, and had to face the reality that Edwin would have to do the trip alone.

Luckily, he has some amazing friends and one of them, Mael, has agreed to go on the 2000 km (1250 mile) road trip with Ed to the UK. Ed spent hours trawling French van hire sites and at the last minute he phoned a local hire company. They had a van that that was unlikely to be hired before the French bank holiday on Tuesday and so they offered it to him at a lower rate than the other places he found - bonus!

Ed sets off early Monday morning and I set the day aside to be on call for him, as I am going to need to book the ferry and hotel, when he gets nearer to the North coast of France.

While I wait for his return, let me fill you in some little anecdotes about the container. So, when we were looking for quotes for our container, we were quoted a door-to-door service by the shipping company. A long story short - they quoted us few thousand and when they had our belongings, they then requoted us $11,000!! We fought and fought (and fought), which was uber stressful, but managed to get the cost down to $6000. However, they would only deliver it to the port. Fair enough. We would be happy to get a van over to Southampton to collect our stuff, if it saved us around $4000.

'Southampton?', I hear you say. Yes, Southampton. Most companies ship to the port local to the Isle of Wight, but not this company. They would be sending our stuff to Kent. Having had a mini melt down about this, when we thought we would be living on the Isle of Wight, it actually turned out to be at our advantage when we realised we would be moving to France. Kent is much closer to Dover. Dover is the cheapest route from UK to France. Win win.

All right, Snappy??

Anyone having experienced imports will be familiar with all of the paperwork. Standard for any business transaction. Now, this is always a little bit more difficult to do when you are dealing with morons. Bring in Sophie. Sophie is dealing with our container at the destination port. She messes up our invoice, causes me about 2 hours of extra work trying to figure out where she got her figures from and then relaying it all back to her, so she can correct it. She apologises and then tells me she has noticed we are importing an alligator head, which may be a problem when it comes to HM Revenue and Customs.

The story is that we had some lovely friends in Slidell, who had a lovely friend called Mark. Mark is a typical, indigenous Louisiana local. He loves nature, sweet iced tea and hunting. His friend gave him some alligator heads and he generously offered us one, as a souvenir of the Louisiana experience. I don't believe I ever would have bought one, but we were touched by his generosity and we accepted.

We packed it and agreed to declare it on our import paperwork; if it got through, it would be a bonus. I don't like being caught out and I've seen enough Border Patrol to know that it's not pleasant being stopped by Customs.

So, Sophie tells me this maybe a problem and tells me to call customs for advice. They in turn, tell me that I may need a vet's certificate (hang on, it's definitely dead); they also ask me to call CITES and DEFRA (which scares me a little bit, as I am beginning to feel now have become little more than an unlicensed poacher); oh and just to be sure the tax man doesn't miss out, they tell me to call the VAT helpline too.

I spend a whole morning on this calling all the numbers. it appears that everybody is clueless and as per, with these types of things, I am transferred, put on hold, transferred again, asked to wait, given a few more numbers and then, voila, a lovely man from CITES in Bristol gives me the code that says my alligator head is definitely legal, definitely dead and I am not a Safari Game Poacher, about to be lynched by Border patrol. Oh, and I'm not voluntarily calling VAT to pay tax on anything, especially not the head of a long dead alligator.

I call Sophie back to give her the code. She tells me she knows that code and if she were me, she would never have declared it in the first place. Excellent legal advice from a shipping agent.

So, back to Edwin and Mael's trip. I book them onto a ferry, book them a cheap and reasonable hotel near the pick up warehouse. I send booking references, phone numbers and addresses to them throughout the day. Once they reach the UK, I start to feel relieved for them, until they drive to the wrong hotel! Same hotel chain, different hotel. They get to the right one eventually about 11 pm.

It has been a little bit of a tough day for me, trying to book everything as cheap as possible, with a little baby clambering all over me all day bored out of her brain. I'd rather have had my day than theirs though. It's been an epic day for them and they have covered over 1000km. I go to bed praying that the next day will pass without a hitch...

Whilst we have been settling in there has been a constant onslaught of challenges to deal with - not least getting the container from Kent, England, which has all our belongings from our last home in Slidell, Louisiana, USA. Whilst all the stuff from the UK bubbles away, over here, we are constantly searching for a house/apartment to suit our family needs; this mainly means near a nice school and in not too much of a "ghetto" area (did I mention I'm a secret snob?). We are also searching for a car (yes, I am a car snob, too) and I am trying to get my head round the idea of doing what is best and buying a French car!

We have downloaded some apps on the iPhones that we got contracts for in the UK (when we though we were going to stay there) and spend our evenings on the sofa searching through them to find various houses, cars local information etc. I am open-minded and know that finding a place can be difficult as you must give three months notice before you leave a rented place here.

This is the only picture on up on the site, advertising this flat - excellent work Monsieur Estate Agent!

I hadn't anticipated how hard it would be to find a family home, with parking in an ok area. It is student city here and many properties are T1 or T2 (stands for Type 1, meaning one room or studio to me and you). We are looking for a T4 with 3 bedrooms or a 2 bedrooms and an office, and are basing our search around the outskirts of Bordeaux, so that it'll be easier for Ed to get to work.

The girls and I decide to take a trip down the local Immobiliers (estate agents) here in Talence. Every trip we take out is a little mission, as we cleverly forgot the buggy at Ed's Mum's house in Brittany during our last visit there a few weeks ago. Luckily we have the amazing Vaude baby carrier, but I know I look like some weird hippy carrying my poor baby round in the heat. Oh well, we are getting used to making do at the moment and this is no different!

Throughout our visits to about 7 estate agents, we are greeted with a mixed response; some are helpful, some just rude, but the common theme is unless we are prepared to live in a studio apartment, there is little they can do for us.

Feeling pretty dejected, but what can you do?? Onwards and upwards....

Edwin has been working for two days now and is absolutely loving it. He is inspired, challenged by the work and sees a good future career wise in this job. Thank God for that. 


The girls and I have been settling in to our new lives. We are staying in the Teneo Apparthotels in Talence, which are next to a huge 12 screen cinema.  Apart from the hideous stench of smoke in our room when we arrived, we are pretty impressed by the set up here. So, there is beautiful lobby and lift up to the first floor. In our apartment, there is a hallway with big sliding wardrobe and just off the hallway to the left, is a bathroom with shower and sink and a separate toilet. I am a little dismayed at the lack of bath for little Nina, but on the plus side, it is all really clean and pretty new.

Bathing Nina in the bathroom sink

The hall leads into the lounge and dining area, which is probably around 20 square metres and nice and light. There is a round table and five chairs. The sofa is sofa bed - not the most comfortable looking thing I've seen, but new all the same. A flat screen Tv and internet connection are a promising sight in the far corner. The window at the end covers the length of the room and has a good view of the world outside, the tram and an comings and goings of all the locals.

Out the front of the building and down some stairs, there is a boulangerie, which sells the best pâtisserie and bread that I have ever tasted. This is so convenient, but as we hope to be heading for a Paleo diet lifestyle change soon, I am glad we are going to be leaving it behind at some point!

The apartments and boulangerie 

There is a park just down the road - pretty small, but when you've had no access to pavements for nearly a year, even a small park is amazing! 

Well, like with any new place, it is going to take time to get used to the surroundings. Once all the little anomalies, like crossing the tram lines and dodging the cyclists, all becomes normal, I'm sure we'll feel a lot more settled.

As you will learn about me, I have some particular views about certain things, which maybe confused for snobbery (or may actually be snobbery). Anyway, one of my funny views is about meeting people in contrived situations based on vague similarities, like being a mother or from the same country or even being the same colour. I love my friends (some of whom are indeed British, mixed race and mothers) and I am very sociable, but tell me that I will be meeting a group of English mums as a preferential group of future BFF's and I would normally run a mile.

However no man (or mother) is an island and I decided to ignore my prejudices and joined an expat website. I was greeted warmly by D, an Irish mother of two boys aged 2, who also lives in Talence. She offered to meet with me the Wednesday after we arrived and also let me know that the rest of the group she had met were meeting up on Friday at the Jardin Public in Bordeaux.

D is lovely. Her boys are very sweet and the eldest is very articulate and observant. D is a mine of knowledge about the simple things I need to know about. She meets me in the local park on Wednesday, and fills me in on local transport, where to buy things, local markets etc etc. I am so relieved that I have found a friend - and one who is on my wavelength, too. It was great to get out with the girls, explore our surroundings and have a purpose.

I think I can safely say that I will always be prepared to challenge my unfounded prejudices.

 We took off early Monday morning on 30th April, my Dad driving us from sleepy Lake, Isle of Wight to the Red Jet fast catamaran in Cowes. We unloaded our 3 suitcase, 1 baby carrier, 1 portable high chair, 1 baby travelling cot/tent, 3 rucksacks, one baby changing bag and a car seat and got our tickets (not forgetting the baby!). Travelling this light is pretty standard for us, so although it's tough, we have managed before and we'll manage again!

We get to the airport and the airport staff see our huge load of luggage and manage to help us rearrange our belongings so that we only have 3 kg more than we should. For those who need to know, Flybe will let you have 2 baby items free, then you pay for the rest; Virgin Atlantic willingly tag anything baby related and put it on the flight free of charge.

We are still not sure how we are going to get our luggage back to our hotel apartment, as Ed's company have rented us a Peugeot 207 for a fortnight. We have decided not to worry about it and deal with it when we get there!

As usual, customs is a nightmare, not least because Tyla has packed some scissors in a pencil case in her hand luggage. She tells the customs officer "they must've just fallen in there" and luckily he actually has a sense of humour, so relieves us of our sharp item and lets us through.

We are boarded as priority and once settled in on the flight, we bump into our friend's French girlfriend, Fanny. We knew she would be flying out that day, but hadn't seen her. She is getting a lift back with her friend, who flew out with her and he is happy to take our excessive amount of luggage to her house in Bordeaux, not far from where we are going to be staying - hurrah!

We land in possibly the smallest airport I've been in - Bergerac. So small, that the usual barrage of questions we get about Nina being an American citizen are non-existent. The officer asks Ed if we should fill out a landing card for Nina - Ed says he doesn't think so (lies) and we are let through. Our luggage is put on a manually rolling travelator, which is directly fed from an outside wall and measures about 20ft long. We have a little giggle at this and make our way to the car hire place. It is peeing down with rain and probably not the best welcome to a new life here in sunny Bordeaux.

As those of you who are familiar with France will know, everything is pretty much shut over the hours of 12 and 2pm. Tyla now calls this the "2 hour shutdown of France". Even the car hire place is shut - pretty crazy. Anyway, we knew about this, so we just sit and wait.

Once we have the car, we head off with the help of Sat Nav and find our little hotel apartment. On first sight, it is great. Brand new. When we get indoors it is all new, but stinks of smoke. As a true reformed ex-smoker of 18 years, I heartily object to breathing in these toxic fumes and set about grumbling, opening windows etc. The apartment has a hallway, with huge built in wardrobe and separate toilet and shower (no bath - how will I bath the baby??). The main room has a sofa bed, table, coffee table and separate little kitchen with dishwasher, microwave combo oven and fridge freezer - perfect! There are no cleaning facilities/hoover etc, so we head out to the nearest supermarket to buy it all, using our English debit cards and parrying they don't get declined, as per usual whenever we go abroad (they don't).

We go to Fanny's, collect our suitcases and settle in to our little apartment and our new life. It's strange to be somewhere new, but a relief that we are somewhere we hope that we will eventually call home. Not too far from England, but far enough south to have some sun (hopefully) and enjoy the French laid back way of life.

We are just about to land back in the UK, after 10 months in Louisiana, USA. This ten month life-changing trip is about to end and I am feeling a whole mixed bag of emotions.


We left our house in Slidell on Tuesday evening, having packed up our personal belongings in a container the day before and sold everything else, in just 2 and a half weeks. We drove 12 hours to Orlando International Airport (the flights were half the price of those in New Orleans), stopping overnight at our friend Melanie's student digs, and arriving at the airport Wednesday afternoon. After unloading our hire car - which took 15 minutes to unpack and redistribute, so that we could carry everything into the airport - we make our way to the Virgin Atlantic desk. They graciously take all our baby paraphernalia for free and we walk disencumbered through the airport to our departure lounge. There is a huge Nemo filled fish tank and the girls play beautifully together, looking amazed at this water wonderland.

Boarding comes and we are given a seat with extra leg room and a sky cot. For those of you who do not know what this is, it is a drop down table that leans a little bit down towards you, with a fold up cot and a blanket. Completely unsuitable fro any baby who is mobile, like Nina, but we are just glass for the extra leg room! We also happen to be just behind Super Duper economy or first class, and they have left over champagne, so they give it to us while we wait to take off - brilliant!! The flight is ok. Nina is really fidgety and I nearly start crying when they bring the food and there is no room for anything, let alone for me to eat, but I hold it together, Ed holds Nina and we get through it pretty uneventfully. Tyla as usual is a gem - apart from refusing to sleep due to the variey of films she is able to watch on her little screen.


As we descend through the clouds at 8 am UK time, we eagerly await the sight of our beautiful homeland. When the land finally comes into view, we are only 20 ft up; we have travelled through the clouds, directly into fog. Welcome back to the UK - land of grey weather, rain, rain, and more rain!


We queue for customs, relieved that there are not many passengers to get through, but when it's our turn, we are told to go back to the non-Eu queue and fill out a landing card for our American born baby. She is clearly born to 2 European parents, but this does not seem to be good enough for the immigration lady, who clearly suspects that Nina is flying into the UK illegally and intends to live here with no visa.  I am a little surprised that no-one seems to know how to handle this situation, but it appears that at Heathrow Airport, no European couple have ever brought in a baby they had abroad. We wait for the head of customs to give the immigration lady the green light, we are let through with a warning that she has only 2 months to stay in the UK without her proper papers. I contemplate asking where they are going to deport her to when her 2 months are up, but as I am jet lagged and already a little irrational, I manage to convince myself to keep schtum. Thanking the lady through gritted teeth, we head through to arrivals.


The driver is waiting for us when we get through and we load our 6 bags, baby carrier, buggy and car seat into the taxi van. She is a friendly sort and luckily spends her whole time talking to her magic bluetooth ear piece, so that we don't have to engage in conversation with her. We all fall asleep for most of the 90 minute drive to Portsmouth. When we get to the hovercraft, our UK bank cards don't work and the sales assistant is long faced and grumpy. I want to make sarcastic and horrible remarks to her, but instead I have become very British all of a sudden and instead; I say nothing to her and just complain loudly to Edwin about how disgusting the customer service is. Back to reality, where everyone is depressed about the grey sky and incessant rain and no-one anywhere is going to say, "Have a magical day!"


Another taxi the other side of the Solent and we are nearly at my parents' house in Sandown. We arrive home - Dad has left cash on the table for the cab - and we unload everything into their 3 bedroom detached house. 


For now, it is a relief to be back - we are jet lagged, exhausted and generally weary, but the 3 day journey back to the Isle of Wight has come to an end. We are home.