Childhood Summer Vacations

Hey guys today I have some one super fabulous over for the 20SB blog swap today

hope you enjoy her post and check her out!

Hello friends of Hannah, thank you for having me today. My name is Elle and I blog over at Skylarking. Today I have been invited over here to tell you about a childhood vacation of mine in accordance with the 20SB blog swap.

When I was 12 my family had planned a holiday on the island of Majorca before I was due to start high school. I was very excited, me, my brother, my mum, nan and grandad all packed our bags and off we went to the beautiful sunny island off the Spanish coast. My brother was 13 and this was the first holiday that we were allowed a little more responsibility to play in the pool by ourselves and take a walk to the little store solo.

Excited by this we planned a huge excursion to the end of the road by hired buggy bike. Being typically me, we left late and as we got to the store Michael had to rush back to take the bike back.

Walking out of the store, being the dilly dolly day dream that I am, I turned left instead of right. Yes, I was this dumb. On and on I walked and I could have sworn our hotel was closer. After about 15 minutes I realised I was lost. I was 12, in a foreign country, alone.

I tried to retrace my steps, but couldn't get myself together to figure out where I was. I was starting to panic. All kinds of over dramatic thoughts flooded my brain. I figured I knew my way back to the hotel from the beach, so off to the beach I walked to then in turn find the right path and then I would be on the home straight right?

Well no not right, I had NO idea where I was. I was wearing a bikini and had change from the pocket money my Nana had given me to buy a bag from the store. After about 30 minutes of walking around I started to get overly dramatic again and panicked that I could possibly dehydrate in this heat so bought an ice lolly.

So here I was, on the beach, at 12, in a country where I didn't speak the language, completely on my own for the first time in my life, crying into a little radio active green iced treat.

A light bulb suddenly pinged in my little brain. I toddled off to the bus stop. I saw a bus with the name of my hotel on... yesssssss this was it, I was going home and wouldn't be sold into child slavery!

On the bus I sat, crying, for ages, well in actual fact it was 2 and a half hours.

All in all it was a nightmare journey. I finally found my way back to the hotel FOUR hours later. My poor Mama was out of her MIND! I was lucky to find her just as she was tying to get in touch with the Spanish police. It turns out there was a place 40 miles down the road with the same name as our hotel and that is where I had ended up.

I was the dumbest kid in the world. Seriously, have at these stories.

Thank you for having me over here. It has been fun.

Love Elle xo