Spain, Smoothies and swimming.
Hx and Milky have both posted on this already, so I wont bore you with too many details. Three independent, self thinking females in a small, but perfect apartment, obviously led to a few “heated discussions” but I think we all had fun and I especially had a fantastic week getting to know Milky and renewing my friendship with Hx.
The temperatures were very much in the hot, hot area and we kept cool by swimming
a lot, eating regularly
The best "piella" ever
and drinking the occasional smoothie or fish bowl full of wine (that was just me wasn’t it?!?!)whilst attempting to kill mosquitoes and flies.
The Apartment itself was located in the lovely Palamores a small but up and coming village, lots of construction going on but nothing that was detrimental to the relaxing feel of the place.
Palamores at night
I can recommend it to anyone who wants a week in lovely surroundings, the swimming pool and grounds were perfectly tended
and I felt most lucky to be able to stay there – thanks Hx and Chris. Chris is I believe taking bookings!!!
Some, but not all , of the highlights
Loosing graciously at Yatzee – when one is wearing someone else’s glasses, making and drinking smoothies and attempting not to burn it’s very easy to loose at this game – that’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it.
Almost getting a sun tan – yep I actually came back cream – a vast improvement on my previous blue, white, red, pink, white, blue tanning experiences.
Hx driving over to Carbanares – A London driver freaking over a hill, most amusing for me and Milky, but the girl did great!
Using my atrocious Spanish!
Making it all the way out to the furthest buoy – but most importantly making it back.
Milky’s description of her conversation with an elderly German on the nudist beach!
A knicker full of pebbles and scary seaweed.
The Indalo man - As written on my necklace gift tag "he bring good lick and prisperity to those who weer or adorn him on their doors"
Home and plodding down the road
Following a rather harrowing return journey I eventually got home and checked my phone, K had left a rather drunken message to say that we “needed to talk about our F-ing relationship”. Added to that the worry of a missing pussycat and my first night back at home was not quite what I had envisioned it.
Luckily after much wailing and walking Rosie was eventually located in our neighbours trailer – she had been locked in for the whole of the weekend. Neighbour was mortified and is now habitually checking cupboards, bedrooms and any other places a cat might fit before leaving the trailer.
K also arrived home and I steeled myself for the dreaded conversation, however the shouting never really took off and we had a very grown up conversation discussing feelings, needs and where we were.
I even showed him my blog and explained what it was all about, we talked about his previous marriage, his mum, how important I was to him and how he understood what I needed. We talked lots and I woke up on Monday morning feeling that we had headed down a very positive route.
The following week I have to admit to being unable to get into the work sphere so I skived the whole week off. Each night I went to bed promising myself I “would go back to work tomorrow” but it never happened.
Thursday’s horrendousness in London confirmed for me that I needed to be at home, cocooned in my trailer watching the news.
Friday Malcolm , K’s friend joined us for the weekend.
This is Malcolm
We had a lovely weekend eating out,
walking in the Ingram Valley
and poodling along the promenade at home enjoying the sunshine.
The downer!
Sadly – and I’m probably being hyper judgemental – K’s promises of happiness and understanding from last week began to show cracks, we argued and sniped and the tactileness we enjoyed at the beginning of the week disappeared, leaving me again feeling uncertain of our future.
No matter how much he professes to love me, to want to make us work, to want to make me happy it seems we cannot help but revert to the sniping and hurtfulness that we have come to know, if not love.
