Some family holiday ... by Elsa, aged 11

"Are we there yet?" asks impatient little Evie. Okay, to start off, I am Will, and I am twleve years old. Unfortunately mum and dad have this thing where going overseas with the whole family is a fun and enjoyable experience. Ah, wrong. Mum always says that we don't spend enough time together as a family, but to be honest, that is one of the few positives in my family life. I've also got an older sister Zoe, who is an ignorant, bossy 15 year old. She is obsessed with One Direction, and believes that one day she'll be up on stage singing their dreadful songs. Fat chance, Zoe. So there are my siblings, and you know about mum's explanations of our family time, but please don't get me started on dad. He tells the most corny jokes and then laughs his head off, while the rest of the family feel sorry for themselves. "Are we there yet!?" screams Evie again. "Evie," answers mum soothingly, "we just got in the taxi."

Finally we arrived at the airport. "Are we there yet?" Evie shouted at the top of her lungs. It was humiliating, every single person stared at us. I pretended I didn't know her. Zoe didn't even notice because her One Direction garbage was pumping into her ears, and her eyes were glued to her phone, texting her dumb boyfriend. We joined the end of the check-in queue, which seemed to go on for miles. Dad was trying hard to entertain us with dad jokes, but they were so bad the only person who was amused was mum. The rest of us had serious and tired faces.

"Hey Will, you wanna have a go at 'build my princess castle' game?" offers Evie, "It's really fun 'cause you get to make the princess' room all pink!" I stick to my comic book, and pretend I can't hear her. We are waiting to board our plane to Paris, and have been stuck in the Jet Star Airlines lounge for almost 3 hours. Mum gives me that look that means be nice to your little sister, so I sigh and lean over her shoulder to look at her stupid game. "Oh, I can't take this any longer! I need to have internet access!" wails Zoe. Dad opened his mouth to reply but an announcement comes over the Jet Star Airlines PA system. "Attention all patrons, flight FQ174 boarding to Paris has been delayed 4 hours, we apologize for any inconvenience." "4 hours, are you serious?" cries Zoe, "that extends my internet free time even longer!" I am beginning to think, could this family holiday get any worse...?

It's five in the afternoon and we have finally boarded our plane. We force our way through, to say the least, a variety of people, to economy class. I already know that this is going to be a long and tiresome flight. "Are we there yet?" demanded Evie. "No!" everybody screamed in an annoyed reply. Evie then started to cry, we all tried to calm her down. The plane started to move and we were off to Paris. Thank god. Evie has finally quit her whining and fallen asleep on mum's shoulder. Zoe's eyes are fixed to a brand new 'Dolly' magazine edition she bought at the airport, and dad is completely engrossed in his book, so I decide to get some sleep. But less than five minutes later I hear Evie screaming "are we there yet?" I jolt in surprise and eardrum pain from her deafening yelling. It's two hours into the flight and the attendants have begun to serve dinner. The bulging trolley appears next to us in the narrow aisle. The woman serving us has her hair pulled back into a painful and tight looking bun and is holding a sandwich and orange juice she is going to serve to the person behind us. She asks me what I would like to drink out of orange juice and lemonade, but before I have the chance to reply, Evie reaches out a short little arm to grab the chicken sandwich from the hands of the attendant, and knocks the orange juice straight out of her grip, and onto my lap. Well, I guess I'm going to have orange juice tonight.

I make my way through snoring, exhausted and enormous people to the toilet, hoping most of them are asleep and won't notice my sticky, orange pants. After a long wait in the toilet queue, I can finally get in the miniscule sized bathroom and clean myself up. Okay, good, now some privacy. I turn to the sink and get some toilet paper and dab the juice spill on my pants with water. I take a look at my handy work. Oh great, just perfect, it looks like I have just peed my pants! I decide to go to the toilet, just in case I do pee my pants later on. I'm doing my business, and I hear the door rattling like an old train. I try to finish quickly but I don't have enough time. Oh no! I forgot to lock the door! I decide to yell out to the person, but before I open my mouth, a large man with a beard almost as big as him, bursts into the tiny room... I haven't even finished yet! Oh my god! The man starts yelling at me saying that I am taking too long, and there is a massive queue outside for the bathroom. I don't know what to say. I don't know what to do. "Okay, sorry" I mumble. He leaves. I hurriedly finish up and begin my walk of shame down the aisle. People in the toilet line glare at me, I just focus on looking at the stained, carpet floor. It still looks like I've peed my pants, especially to Zoe. "Hey loser, too much lemonade, hey?" she smirks. "Zoe, give Will a break" demands dad. I finally get to sit down, but there are glaring eyes all over me, I hope everyone forgets about it because we still have nine hours left on the plane. This could be difficult.

I wake up to the smell of food and crying babies that I can hear from every possible direction. Or is it food? Oh gross, it's the smell of a person vomiting right in front of me and it smells disgusting. "Are we there yet?" It was Evie again, screaming. God bless that child. She's a nice kid, but really? Is yelling the same question over and over again really necessary? My thoughts are interrupted by the captain making an announcement for everybody to listen: "Good morning passengers, and welcome to Sydney." "What?!" our whole family said in unison. "Jinx!" announces Evie. "Evie, not the time, darling" says mum sternly. "This is your captain speaking, we are landing in ten minutes, the current outside temperature is 28 degrees, a classic, lovely Sydney day. So once again passengers, we will be landing in approximately ten minutes and welcome to Sydney." "What?" exclaims mum, "Sydney? This is ridiculous! We're meant to be going to Paris." "Yeah" agrees Zoe, spelling it out, "P-A-R-E-S". I hang my head in disgust for Zoe, she is so dumb. Mum and dad are too gobsmacked about the mix up to notice their daughter's stupidity.

Despite a nine hour flight, all we did was take a long route from Melbourne to Sydney. "Are we there yet?" asks Evie for the millionth time. Even after landing, we still can't really say that we are there yet. Well, not in the right place anyway. Some family holiday!