After years of wishing and waiting, the time has finally come — Sophs is going to Maga.
To be completely honest, it hasn’t properly sunk in yet. We haven’t actually put down our deposits and whatnot, but at least myself, Elle and Hannah have totally decided where we want to go, when we are going and, more importantly, the time in which we are definitely putting some money down to secure our holiday.
It’s been a bit of a nightmare getting to this stage, though. With people dropping in and out, and false promises being made, we’ve went from a group of six travellers down to three.
Trying to get three teenage girls to all agree on where we want to go, and when we want to be going and how much we’re willing to pay is quite difficult, so I’m glad that boom, is completely sorted, and there’s no fiff-faff around it.
I’m not all that worried about going to Magaluf. I know there’s a good few numbers of people who wouldn’t dare step foot in it because of it’s crazy reputation, but frankly, I like a bit of mentalness. Granted, I’ll be the youngest one going (and also the tallest, which doesn’t theoretically work out, as both Hannah and Elle will be 18 and combined reach a grand height of about five and a half feet — no lie) but that doesn’t mean I’m going to sit in a hotel and mump and moan all day about being the baby of the pack. If anything, it’ll probably be me that’s encouraging the girls to do something daft (sorry mum), and then, providing no one gets hospitalised, we’ll be absolutely fine.
The one thing I am only slightly worried about is the money situation. Considering I’ve only got two wee jobs, I’m going to have to make a lot of sacrifices in order to pay and have spending money for out trip. But, I guess a good few extra shifts at the gym do a whole lot of good, and hopefully soon I’ll be on my way to a little pot of gold that’s at the end of the rainbow.
I am buzzing, to say the least.
Roll on July, MAGA 2015!