I’ve been away on holiday, I know, it’s so rare for me to get away. ;)
So far this year we’ve been to 6 countries in 5 months, and it feels amazing.
I’ve had self imposed absences from travelling. Before I found out my chronic symptoms were due to cancer and not IBS, I didn’t fly anywhere for eight years, the fear of shitting myself was real and ever present. I’ve said many times before that my world became very small.
By the time I was finally diagnosed, going out for dinner had become something of a challenge, let alone flying off somewhere.
Then of course the pandemic came and gave us two years of house arrest.
So 2022 is the year to rediscover a passion to peregrinate.
So far this year we’ve been to Bulgaria, Iceland, America, Spain, Wales and Greece.
Since my surgery, well, since six months after my surgery I have travelled far and wide. I know a bit about airport experiences. And I have to say Heathrow Terminal 5 has been the worst place this year I’ve passed through.
I arrived in good spirits, that quickly became sour.
I passed through the x-ray machine, the alarm always goes off. I have a bangle that can only be removed with a little screwdriver.
I know the alarm will go off. I expect it, I am unbothered by it.
What normally happens is I have a pat down, possibly with the little swab wand too.
But this time the staff member decided to be…ummmmm, I’m not sure of the right term.
a Jobsworth?
Overly Cautious?
…But I’m going to stick with - inappropriate - though as it fits perfectly.
The alarm went off, I politely stepped to the side for my pat down.
The airport staff member proceeded to perform said pat down.
She came across my bag and said “what’s this?”
It always gets picked up on. I explained it was a colostomy bag.
She then triggers some procedure in which I have to accompany her to a side room to check the bag more closely.
At this point I was narked because it’s completely unnecessary. Nothing showed up on the swab. Nothing electronic showed up in the scanner.
So I was walked to a side room. My friend Tanya came with me, as Chris was stuck behind a lady who was smuggling 3 kilos of spreadable butter and a few packs of kippers through in her hand luggage. I kid you not.
I’ve been to a side room once before at Stansted airport. It was unnecessary then too. But at least she swabbed the bag to do some further tests.
This particular individual, took me to a side room asked me to lift my dress and expose my bag.
That’s it. Her further security check consisted of looking at my exposed bag, belly and me there in my knickers.
Tell me what you could possibly ascertain by simply looking at something, that you couldn’t already tell by feeling it through my dress?
That’s correct, absolutely sweet F A, That’s what.
She didn’t swab it. She simply looked at it. Very scientific.
I have been through security six other times this year. And not one of those people asked for a flash of my naked belly.
They pat me down. They ask what it is. I tell them. They either swab me with the wand or are satisfied by touch.
It’s quite clearly a plastic bag. It’s quite often containing poo.
It’s quite clear from the scan and a pat down that it’s not full of explosives. Or any wires at all for that matter.
And were it to be full of drugs I suspect that simply looking at it wouldn’t tell you very much at all.
Four of our friends headed to our group holiday the day before us, through terminal 5 at Heathrow too. My friend’s daughter wears a splint, she’s 4. They made her remove the leg brace and swabbed and scanned that too.
I thought it was perhaps because the staff there wanted to prove they are extremely vigilant.
But I was chatting to a staff member in one of the shops and she said the turn over of staff is very high. And that it was widely accepted amongst the airport staff that the security sector are undertrained and of poor quality.
She said because I was dressed well that maybe they thought I was a secret shopper type sting.
Which would make sense if they had done more than took me off to a side room for me to flash them a look at my bag.
Literally nothing further could be ascertained by just looking at it.
It’s simply voyeurism at that point.
This experience didn’t upset me. It annoyed me. What annoyed me the most is that I’m perfectly comfortable and confident in my stoma usage. What if someone wasn’t. I think it could really deeply effect some people. Traumatise them in fact.
Perhaps there should be a standardised way to deal with people with stomas. Across all airports, all over the world.
Because as it stands it’s so chaotic, it’s ridiculous.
If it’s to be checked in a side room, so be it. But if that’s the case, I’m going to suggest that every nappy on a baby needs to be checked, every sanitary towel, and every orifice on the non bagged community too, we wouldn’t want to leave them out or miss anything!
And no, there’s no point in saying that I shouldn’t have worn the bangle. I set the scanner off with or without the bangle on.
Dress from Ghost, Shoes from Hermes, Bag from Chloe, Hat from Ale Hop.
So once that utter pantomime was over and done with it was time to get ready and enjoy our holiday.
We were off to an Ikos hotel in Corfu. Our friends Tanya and James had gone last year and we’re blown away by it. And as it was James’s 50th birthday this May we decided to pile in and join them. So 12 of us headed to Ikos Dassia beach.
You never quite know if someone’s recommendation is going to live up to their hype. But I hadn’t actually given too much thought about what I expected from this holiday. I was just going with the flow. Relaxed and happy we’d all be together.
Well, we could not be more blown away by Ikos! It felt absolutely, utterly luxurious. I would a hundred percent recommend it.
So much so, that while we were on this holiday we booked to go to a different Ikos hotel next May for my 50th. We’re going to Ikos Olivia, in mainland Greece next year, which apparently is even better than the already incredible Dassia one.
Every little whim and fancy is catered to. When you arrive you’re given a WhatsApp number for your personal concierge, who you can message throughout the day 9am till 9pm to help with any questions or queries you have.
It’s an all inclusive resort. But it’s luxury all inclusive.
I’m a little cautious of all inclusives. We’ve been to a few. And most of the time the pool bars are full of crisply sun burnt Brits with bulldog tattoos and Union Jack shorts, drinking excessively, getting gradually louder throughout the day.
But this place wasn’t like that at all. Yes, the drinks are free and flowing, but there wasn’t any of the usual suspects.
It was so relaxed and chilled. It was really very very pleasant. I was surprised by the standard. Everything was impeccable. The food is of excellent quality. The drinks were brand names. The cola was Coke. I don’t drink the stuff but to Coke drinkers the brand matters.
They had a fantastic range of alcohol free beers. Some delicious alcohol free cocktails. In fact the cocktails and mocktails were equally good. It’s rare for non drinkers to be so well catered for.
We did laugh at one point, a staff member took our order, there were four non drinkers who asked for non alcoholic beers, and then Matt, who does drink ordered a real beer and the girl said “oh finally! You are a strong man” Which we all thought was bloody hilarious!
So it’s not just in England that deciding to not drink is confusing and alien to drinkers. Hahaha
****
As usual on my holidays I took more bikinis than there are days of the holiday. I take 14, because I own 14. So I always feel I might as well.
I turned 49 on this holiday, and still I see no need to not bikini. Why wouldn’t I?
I want a brown belly and back. So a bikini is needed.
I was merrily bikining and posting said photos of bikining.
Unfortunately I made a bit of a mistake, I tagged the hotel I was in. I have always tagged where I am in the world on Instagram. Mainly, actually, solely so my friends can see where I am, what I’m up to.
What I didn’t know is people that don’t know you look through the photos too.
You have to keep your wits about you. I thought that was just a physical thing. But I was very wrong.
What do you class as a good body?
Do you look at yours with love or condemnation?
Because my definition of a good body changed when I was 36. Before that I was obsessed with keeping it small (starved). My brain felt, and was conditioned to think, that my worth was contained within the appearance of my flesh.
At 36 I nearly died. I was very very very very very poorly.
From then on I was freed from my twisted thoughts that my body should look a certain way.
It probably seems weird that having surgery which changed the look and functionality of my body freed me from thinking about the aesthetics of it.
I believe it’s because I went so close to the edge of not having another day that my brain re-set itself and redefined what was important.
I’m so happy to be completely content in my skin. It’s very freeing.
Which is why I was so shocked that I was verbally attacked about my physical appearance on my Instagram during our holiday.
What difference to anyone else does it make what I look like?
But up popped this Instagram user called ‘Miss Tilly’, giving me her personal opinions on my body.
Let’s think about the psychology of someone who feels the need to comment negatively, and let’s face it, someone who wants to hurt other people’s feelings on purpose.
What sort of person are they in real life.
And let’s compare and contrast.
I was on a holiday with 11 friends. Tilly was at home…I’m going to guess, probably alone.
She apparently felt emboldened to comment on my post because her sister has a stoma. I can’t see her sister would ever want to spend any time with her corrosive, judgemental heart.
I’ve had time to think about it, not that it took me very long. But I definitely prefer my life, even with my “shameful, hideous, grotesquely mutilated body ”. Hahahahaha
Ffs, what a terrible human being they must be, no idea of it was a man or a woman because they have no photo, and no followers. I’m assuming woman though.
Was my body the worst on show at the hotel pool? I doubt it.
Was my body the best on show at the hotel pool? I can absolutely guarantee you that no it wasn’t!
Was I happy and content in my own skin ~ happy with my life, my choices, my family, my friends? Abso-fucking-lutly!!
So to all the Tillys of the world. Please stay under your rock. And please please feel free to scroll on past.
The world wouldn’t miss you, your sourness, your lack of compassion and your dark heart. Keep your shallow thoughts in your head. It’s where they belong, they are your issues and yours alone.
The term Troll and Trolling really annoys me. It sounds so harmless and goofy. Someone just being a silly old troll.
Let’s get one thing clear. They’re not Trolls - They are c***s!
Plain and simple. Let’s call a spade a spade. Don’t dress it up as a harmless, childish term.
Let’s call them what they are.
I doubt very much many people would admit to being a troll, but I can guarantee you far fewer world admit cheerfully that they are a complete and utter c***!
I was so shocked that she felt so strongly with distaste for me that she felt the need to tell me. What made it worse is, I had my EarPods in at the time so the message was spoken to me, rather than me just reading it.
If I see something I don’t like on social media, I just scroll on by. Leaving no path of destruction. Leaving no bitter taste.
I’ve always have gone by the mantra that I should leave a place better than I found it.
I believe it, and I live by it.
Far from her comments making me hide away and cower in the corner. I felt emboldened. I wasn’t just wearing my array of bikinis for myself now. I was wearing them with pride for every person that looks different to the norm!!
(I was also wearing them for Tilly, knowing she’d love it! Hahaha)
I have many friends that didn’t make it after cancer swept in and destroyed their world.
As if our physical appearance is the most important thing in the world!
I also have many friends who have had all sorts of body changing, life saving, surgery. Should they feel like they should hide away, a tower somewhere too? Notre Dame perhaps?
NO they bloody shouldn’t. No one should.
You know what is attractive? Confidence!!
Wear a bikini/don’t wear a bikini, but what ever you choose, feel happy, comfortable and confident in those choices.
If you want to wear a bikini, do it, wear it. Stand proud in it.
Don’t let the Tillys of the world tell you otherwise.
They are nothing. They are no one.
Miss Tilly felt I should be covered up in a swimming costume. And if that is her personal preference then, wonderful, go for it. Wear it.
But no one has any right to tell me or anyone else what to wear. What is she? A fully paid up member of the Taliban? Perhaps her next suggestion for me would be the burka!
She also said that I was a terrible advert for the Ikos, apparently she was browsing photos of the hotel with a view to booking it up. When I tagged the hotel in the photo I never once thought I’d make a great ad for it!! I just wanted to say where in the world I was.
Thankfully I was greatly supported by friends on Instagram. And I whole heartedly appreciate the kindness.
The mistake I made wasn’t wearing a bikini. It wasn’t posting it either. I did perhaps make a mistake by tagging my location. I’ve never looked through location tags or hash tags come to that. So it just didn’t occur to me people did. (But then, what did I think they were for??! Hahaha). Clearly I’m not as social media savvy as I should be.
Did I shy away and cover up? Well, sort of but I don’t think it’s what the Tillys of the world had in mind.
I wore a sequin beach skirt. It didn’t really have the cover me up vibe about it. It’s definitely a look at me and my glittery skirt vibe!
Funny story about this skirt. I bought it in Ann Summers. I thought it was adorable. But it was a skirt that went only half the way round. It was a semi skirt.
A semi skirt designed for tiny little bodies. Well I don’t happen to own a tiny little body.
So I bought two tiny half skirts and sewed them together! Voilà!
I think it’s rather fetching. I’ve no idea what Tilly thought. I didn’t run it by her to ask. ;)
I dress for me. I dress how I choose. I didn’t go through everything I went through to be told what I can and can’t do or wear.
I also took an array of gorgeous dresses. Tanya and James had been before so they knew that for the most part people get dressed up nicely in the evening. You don’t have to, absolutely not. But a lot of us enjoy a bit of an effort.
Below - Pink and Orange Dresses from Coco Blush (the shop in Mumbles I mentioned a few weeks ago), Shoes from Jimmy Choo, Bag from Chloé
Dress £7 from Next sale, Shoes from Gina
Dress £12 from TK Maxx Shoes & bag Chloé
Dress from Zara
I love getting dolled up on nights out, they are intermittent at home. It just happens that on holiday every night is a night out.
I love clothes. I love buying beautiful things. Having a colostomy has never interfered with that hobby.
It’s still possible to dress well with a stoma. My choices may have changed with the changes to my body. But it’s still absolutely possible to dress beautifully if you wish, for any occasion, be it evening wear, day wear or beach wear. It’s all still possible if you choose to.
You could be perfectly happy in baggy T shirt and jogging bottoms and to that I say good for you!
Because the only thing that matters is dressing for you.
Beach dress from Primark
Beach dress from TK Maxx
Beach shirt from Vilebrequin
Beach dress from TK Maxx, Flip flops from Havianas
This holiday was a special birthday trip for James’s 50th on the Saturday and my 49th on the Sunday.
We arrived on the Monday, so there was plenty of build up to get a tan and relax by the pool.
The hotel feels very sparsely populated. It’s a big place. It has multiple pools, but more importantly it has at least double the amount of sun loungers than people. Which means it always feels relaxing. There’s no need to be up at the crack of dawn to save a sun bed. God I hate that about most hotels.
Ikos have everything in perfect balance. I can’t imagine going to a different hotel chain.
Saturday came and it was James’s big five oh!
Catie had the genius idea of getting James’s face on face masks for us to greet him with at breakfast. (Apparently it’s very unnerving to turn up and see 11 of your own face staring back at you!).
I took a Colin the caterpillar cake with me, is it even a birthday without a Colin!?
We had a fantastic breakfast all together and then some of the group borrowed the hotel minis (you get a free car hire day with your stay at Ikos).
The first stop was up to an old monastery, nestled on top of a hillside. The views from up there are incredible.
It was spectacular there. I lit a candle for my cousin, as I do wherever I am in the world.
We then headed to some of the most spectacular beaches I’ve ever been to.
For reasons unclear, apart from my aversion to public toilets and the possible state of them, I went off for a sea wee.
What I didn’t take into account was the sea at this particular beach was only about a foot deep for at least half a mile out. I walked and walked and still the sea was no where near the acceptable level up my body for a wee. I can’t just wee down my leg in ankle deep water. I have some boundaries and decorum! Hahaha
So I walked and walked and walked. At one point I thought I was going to get to Albania before I’d even had a chance for a wee.
It’s an absolutely stunning beach.
If you zoom in on this photo you will see me. That’s how far I had to go for a wee…
…Or not as it turns out. Because when I finally made it back to the beach I found out that Jo and Liz had used the perfectly clean beachside facilities! You live and learn. ;)
From there we headed to lunch at another beautiful beach. If you’re ever passing, Kerassia beach is well worth a visit. There’s a beachside restaurant run by two brothers, where I had the most delicious king prawns I’ve ever had, and the most delicious hummus and pitta breads I’ve ever experienced…and you’ll be pleased to know there is a perfectly useable toilet there too. ;)
What a way to spend your 50th birthday. Not only did James have a cracking day, we all did. It was incredible. You know those experiences where you know you’ll remember it fondly forever. Sitting having lunch at that beachside restaurant will stay with me forever.
Then it was on to The Durrells house. I hadn’t really heard much about the Durrells, the books and authors or the films, before this holiday. But having visited this beautiful island I’ve made a point of finding out more about them.
We’re currently engrossed in the TV adaptation of The Durrells with Keeley Hawes. It’s very very good.
It was then back to the hotel. Our friends Catie and Michael, and James and Tanya had been upgraded to a two bedroom villa, with pool as a treat from the hotel management for the last two nights of their stay.
It was a spectacular place. Soooo luxurious! Which is pretty impressive, because the whole hotel is utterly luxurious to start with.
Then it was time for a birthday boy dinner.
All the restaurants at the resort are fantastic!! I had 3 particular evening favourites. 2 lunch favourites and 1 absolute breakfast favourite!
The French toast at Kerkyra was off the chart. I ate copious amounts of it.
It’s an all inclusive resort but in the restaurants the food is cooked fresh to order. Or there is a buffet restaurant if you prefer speed and choice. The whole place is faultless.
We had such a lovely evening.
I presented James with my gift to him.
I bought a beautiful personalised photo album from a shop on Etsy.
And I also bought a Polaroid camera, and took photos throughout our holiday, and then filled the album with them.
So by his birthday it was full of all the memories of the trip.
My plan was excellent. The execution of my plan was horrific. It turns out I can’t use an old fashioned camera. The photos are a £1 a go. I wasted 9 photos because I couldn’t get the hang of taking them. The lense cap and flash were a huge problem. And so too was keeping them dark to allow them to develop.
I’ve never been so stressed with a birthday present before. I think I’ll just stick to gift vouchers in future! Hahahah
I think my effort paid off though. I believe James really liked it.
Then Saturday morning we had another breakfast at Kerkyra for my birthday.
I was so touched that Kim had brought table scaping for my birthday table with her. And a cake topper. And banners. It was a proper party. :)
I had French toast again, why wouldn’t I? By this point in the holiday I was addicted.
I had such a lovely time. My friends and Chris spoilt me rotten.
I saw a necklace and earrings in the jewellers at the hotel on the second night we arrived. They were turquoise and gold, I have a charm bracelet that would go lovely with them. I’d said how much I loved them and thought no more of it.
But somehow they managed to buy them for me without me knowing. I thought one of the others had done it, but it turns out Chris went over and bought them, quite how he did it I’ll never know, seeing as we were together the entire time. :)
This is 49!
Ain’t we just the cutest!!
Matchy matchy!
Chris doesn’t really buy clothes very often. He’s more than happy to just wear a polo shirt and jeans, or a polo shirt and shorts…the summer version.
But he does love to treat himself to Vilebrequin swim shorts.
I love them too, and I noticed a few weeks back that they now do bikinis too. I thought it would be adorable for us to match. So I went in and tried one on.
Well, sort of. The top, in the largest size they make didn’t even cover a nipple on me, and the bottoms didn’t get past my knees.
I was a bit deflated, or I would’ve needed to be deflated to get into their swimwear range! Hahaha.
I said to the lady in there what have you go that might fit me. So she handed me a sarong. Haahahah hahaha
Well, it fit a treat. But then I suppose a giant sheet of fabric would fit most people really. ;)
She also found a shirt cover up too. So I was happy we could match a little bit at least.
I just had to get my bikini to go with it at M&S instead.
The mens range in Vilebrequin goes up to about a 46-50 inch waist. Because they know, the men that can afford them are possibly well lived and on the larger side, and that’s wholly acceptable, But woe betide women to be any larger than a UK 12!
I had an amazing day. I think I would recommend holiday birthdays to everyone.
I had a special day, followed by a special evening out at the Asian inspired restaurant at Ikos.
Dress from Macy’s in NYC a few weeks back.
My new earrings and necklace had their first proper outing. I absolutely love them.
I had a fantastic day and an incredible holiday. Because there were so many of us on the holiday I actually partook in the free, available activities like kayaking (Chris hates kayaking so I don’t get to do it very often) and pedaloes (Chris feels the same about pedaloes as he does kayaking, so again I don’t get a chance to do it)… And next year I get to do it all over again, but with more friends and family coming too. I cannot wait to be 50! :)
Dress from Amazon, Shoes from Gina
Without a doubt this has been the best holiday we’ve had in years. I do think we’re going to struggle booking anything other than Ikos.
We’ve already started looking at life in terms of Ikos pounds. For example a one night in a luxury hotel in London would pay for one person in the cheapest room at an Ikos for a week!
So we’ll be doing less London stays and definitely more Ikos stays in future.
I got home from holiday to more cards and presents.
Catie and Michael mentioned my birthday presents would be waiting for me at home. Oh my goodness they out did themselves.
During the holiday, I was very taken by the table scaping at the restaurants. Everything was so beautifully curated.
Well I contacted my WhatsApp concierge person in the resort to ask where the sea themed table scaping was from. She gave me the email address of the sculptor. I contacted her to ask if I could order some. Only to find that she had made those as a one off special commission for the hotel.
I was absolutely gutted. I Googled to find some substitutes to no avail. All the others were a bit crap looking.
Well I come home to find that Catie had sourced some wonderful (classy) beachy scaping, including an almost exact copy of the sea scaping crabs.
He’s perfect!! I named him Stavros.
I also received a present from my bestie. She really does know me very well.
Look at this Klimchi jug!! Isn’t she a stunner! And I needed a dark blue one.
*needed… = desired, yearned for, coveted.
A huge thank you to all my favourite people for making 49 very special.
And thank you to so many people for their support and kindness on Instagram. Xx
Thank you to Chris for working hard and making our dream of a holiday happen. :)