On the weekend gone by, V and I did a city escape. After arranging it with our helpers, the two of us left the kids back home and checked into a hotel across town for one night. In service of this great plan, I took Friday off. So after the kids had gone to bed for their afternoon naps, we packed a small suitcase and headed off by the MTR.

We had picked a hotel just 20 minutes away but on Hong Kong island, so we felt sufficiently distanced from home with the harbour between us. It was located in the area we lived for the majority of our time in Hong Kong which might seem like a strange choice but we don’t go back there often and when we did a couple of months ago, I felt this nostalgia combined with liking that I wanted to relive. Plus, I know it has enough to do but is not right in the crazy buzz of Hong Kong.

Enough about location. I liked the feel of the hotel when we checked in too, and I must confess that I’m totally a hotel person. Hotel rooms depress some people but they do the opposite for me. I love the cocoon of luxury that comes with a good hotel room, the design quirks that would probably not work in a home, the freebies (even such things as sharpened pencils and a blank notepad thrill me) and the clean, cool sheets.

The latter, and possibly the general break from life that being ensconced in a hotel room conveyed, seem to have revived my dormant sex drive almost as soon as I slipped under the covers but unfortunately, the dates we picked coincided with the fag end of my period. Unfortunately, also, I didn’t get the afternoon nap I craved because someone from my office called and then I was jumpy although the very small issue was sorted.

We decided to head down the line to Causeway Bay for dinner where we had a very yummy Sichuan meal, although I will never go to that place again because they actually charged HK$8 for a glass of water! We then had to cool our selves down with icecream which meant walking through a mall where I was tempted by sexy underwear after ages, while still insisting on cotton, but finally gave up due to impatience of husband who does not really care about my underwear.

Then I insisted on dragging V up to the hotel bar which I had been hearing about it for a while; only it was raining so the outdoor area which it is known for was closed off. It was full of hip people and house music and I thought how boring it was that no one was dancing and why would people feel the need to do this every week. But my martini was really good and V surprised me by having two drinks.

We went to bed at midnight which is very late for us, and V did me the supreme favour of letting me sleep till 8 am the next morning (gasp all you non-parents!) and then we argued about breakfast but I let him have his way because I was determined to eat this Turkish kebab roll for lunch. Yeah, a lot of food was involved in this minibreak.

So we went to the mall, which was another nostalgia trip because it was pretty much our regular haunt when we lived there, and V kept pissing me off by threatening to go to McDonald’s (which I have no objection to on normal days, just that I didn’t want to eat something boring that weekend) and finally, he got something from the department store bakery and I bought prosciutto and croissants and it turned out to be just what I needed. I insisted on going back to the hotel for a snooze only I kept hearing tapping on the door (which turned out to be housekeeping trying to get in) so this was the weekend of not-as-much-sleep-as-I-would-have-liked.

Then we had lunch at the Mediterranean place I wanted to and packed our bags and headed home. Part of the reason I wanted this getaway was to figure out what was causing my sexual block. It definitely seems like the lack of physical and headspace in a house shared with two kids and two helpers takes its toll but also, being physically tired. I don’t sleep very well and that was fine when I could do a lot of catching up on sleep before I had kids but now all my energy is channelled towards work and then interacting with the kids. Eating spicy food is not a good idea either though I don’t see myself stopping soon. Also, a tiny portion of the reasons goes to the weight both of us has put on which makes us both not as aesthetically pleasing to not so much each other but  to ourselves.

I did come through this weekend feeling mentally lighter though. It’s not that V and I didn’t fight. We skirmished a lot. But somewhere along the way, I realised that we still like each other. There are more things we like to do separately than we used to, but there are still a lot of things we enjoy doing together, including just walking through a mall holding hands and trying to tug the other away from the underwear section. I don’t see us stopping fighting in the near future and there are still issues we need to work through but some tectonic plate underlying our relationship has shifted back into position. The mojo isn’t entirely back, but the friendship is, and for me that’s huge.