After all the madness of launching myself out of an aeroplane, coating the entire house in icing sugar and the wonders of a hosting vintage-styled-tea-party with my friends, Mr. B decided to treat us both to a relaxing break away from it all. So, on Monday, after putting the house into some semblance of order (only semblance, mind!) we battled through snow drifts and icy roads to get to North Norfolk and a little hotel called Titchwell Manor.
Now, neither of us is particularly skilled in the art of stopping. But, probably for the first time ever, we just about stopped and managed to relax. As in we arrived and Mr. B said "shall we go to Burnham market?" (a little town nearby) and I said; "you know what, can we just watch a film?" - so that's exactly what we did, in our luxury bathrobes with Puppy Ballerina by our feet, we stopped and watched a film. And it felt incredibly indulgent, but like we were ACTUALLY on holiday. We spent some time on the beach (I shall post photos soon, when Mr. B has edited them), wandered around Wells and Burnham Market, but in the end, not doing very much at all was all the break we needed and wanted.
We certainly came home feeling rested. I shan't mention the fact that Mr. B locked his keys in his car boot on the final day, or that as a result, we delayed our departure by a few hours waiting for the breakdown man to arrive, as it really didn't do anything to detract from a wonderful break. In fact, in lots of ways because it slowed us down, we were about to luxuriate some more in the comfort of the lounge area whilst waiting to be rescued. After all, it wouldn't be a ballerina holiday without some mis-hap, and I was pleased that it was this, rather than anything else!
All in all, it was the perfect end to a perfect birthday. I haven't known 30 for very long, but I am confident it is going to be a good year.