I had many visions of where I would spend my 10th wedding anniversary: Le Byblos in St Tropez, Hotel de Toiras on the Ile de Re, Hotel Costes in Paris, some ritzy restaurant in London, a beach in the Caribbean, a luxury spa on Lake Geneva. After all, ten years of marriage is something to be celebrated. Just think, 10 years ago today I was squeezing myself into my wedding dress and worrying about where in the seating plan to put my father (immaterial as it turned out, he stormed off before it all happened).
So where am I? A McDonald’s on some nameless roundabout 10 kilometres from the Ile d’Oleron, our next island stop.
I have always refused to go to McDonald’s. I hate McDonald’s. It’s as far away from the kind of place I would like to spend any time as a public loo. (As a child I was famous for refusing to go to public loos, which made travelling with me anywhere tricky). And yet I am here, sitting at a table, drinking a perrier while all around me people stuff their faces with burgers.
And yet….it’s not that bad. I can’t smell the burgers (or the people), the table is wooden and they have HIGH SPEED FREE WIFI. This may not seem as exciting as a massage in a luxury spa but believe me, after several days on remote islands, it is amazing.
But I don’t think we’ll stay for lunch.
Copyright: Helena Frith Powell 2008