viva espagne

The time has come for another mini holiday. I have to say, there’s rarely been a time when I’ve been so f**king excited about going away and it’s no reflection of anything bad in life….simply the lack of sunshine in the UK.

The gods are smiling upon us for a change as neither Lara or crack head Grant are going to be in Spain when we’re there, which means both Steve and I can drink til our little hearts content and not listen to Lara’s incessant whinging and whining and self absorbedness. That’s not to say we won’t be spared a blow by blow account from ‘Jingle Jangle’ (Steve’s mum’s boyfriend so named as is ultimate chav and wears a lot of gold which makes this noise- kind of) about just how awful it’s been trying to look after her (yes, we know funnily enough we did it for 2 years when you went into hiding in Southern Spain!).

Anyway, on the upside is the fact that there’s a nice big cold pool, air conditioning, a mum who’s always so delighted to see her one fully functioning prodigal child that she has to wait on him (us) hand and foot, and a lovely sandy sun kissed beach. I’m going to get a tan if it’s the last thing I do, and I’m not going to let my Maldivian loss of skin pigment fiasco stop me.

We fly out tonight and rather than the usual ‘Ali waits getting increasingly agitated about where Steve is and why he’s running late, again!’ I’m going to make my own way to the airport, check in, go through to departures, do some gratuitous duty free shopping, get myself a McDonalds (it’s a ritual at Gatwick) and a good novel and a lovely cold white wine spritzer and put my feet up and he arrives when he arrives. Bliss. And if we don’t get to sit together on the flight as I get preferential boarding….ah well. I’ll wave at him sitting next to the screaming babies and hugely obese women from my extra leg room (and only 30 inch legs) seat.

I love going on holiday.