Luxury birthday part 1 - the injustice

Our much-needed, long-anticipated, 35th birthday luxury jaunt to Bishopstrow House started with my head down the toilet bowl puking my guts up with food poisoning. Cursing our shitty luck, and after a terse argument about inadequate travel insurance I retreated to bed and the discomfort of my aching limbs, wondering if I was going to die, whilst the others sat tight (inasmuch as a toddler and a baby know how to do that) and waited to see whether we would have to cancel, lose our mini holiday and still have to pay for it, or whether we should risk it and go. After a vomit- and diarrhoea-free couple of hours we threw some bags together and got in the car. Felix screamed at full volume for roughly half the journey down so we arrived in pissy, stressy and achey mood, turned the corner and were immediately struck by the breathtaking stature of our country manor - home for the next two nights.