Tostadas has symbolism for two reasons for me now. Firstly it’s the only word of Spanish my friend picked up on holiday (it was written on packets of food he ate), and secondly it describes the state of us all on our return to England – ‘Toasted’.
After dropping the dog off with my parents on the afternoon of the day we left (which I’ll admit was pretty sad) everyone started to swing into holiday mode straight away. We made the short journey up to Newquay airport and after a little queuing to check our bags in, we were on our way. I was seriously impressed with how quick it is to get stuff done there, we checked our bags in literally thirty-five minutes before the plane took off. I hate waiting at airports so it was a welcome relief. The flight out was beautiful, really smooth and very fast (we landed half an hour ahead of schedule). The pilot told us the route we’d be taking so I knew to look out for the French coast, then the Pyrenees, and finally Valencia sprawling below us. Once we landed we found a bar open in Alicante airport and made up base there as we waited for four others who were on (delayed) flights from London. The trip to the villa was largely uneventful – save for one wrong turn and a bit of frustration – but it was definitely worth the wait.
That swimming pool was the glorious site that awaited us on our arrival (minus the inflatables, we added those later) at three in the morning. After claiming bedrooms – where we totally scored with an air-con room – the only natural thing to do was get into some shorts and into the pool. It was as warm as bath water and we stayed in until about 5.30; absolute bliss.
We couldn’t have wished for a better villa, it was so beautiful and so much nicer and bigger than I had imagined. I’ll add a couple more photos in this post but my facebookery friends can see them all there. I won’t bore you all with the complete itinerary of what happened on each and every day, but mostly they involved a pattern of drinking an obscene amount of local beer/gin/wine/sangria and going out in the evening for food and more drink, and those days were generally followed up by a pool day, full of lounging and splashing.
On the way to the villa we had to literally drive through the middle of a golf course, so one day two friends and I decided to go and treat ourselves to a round. After walking down to the course (a mile of two in midday sun – not the cleverest idea) we could not find the clubhouse, which sounds ridiculous and really was. We stumbled onto the course and walked up some of the most plush fairways I’ve ever seen, scaring wild parrots in the process, until we found it. Unfortunately for us they wanted €60 for a round, €10 for club hire and €25 for buggy hire (not to mention the fact that none of us had handicap certificates which they also wanted). The equivalent of £80 for a round of golf is a bit silly, so we headed back after stumbling on an enormous plaza which we’d somehow missed for the whole time we were there.
I was amazed at how many Indian restaurants there are out there, I was expecting there to be more ‘British’ pubs, but with the exception of a few Irish bars I was very wrong. The first night we went out to eat we tried an Indian just because it was next door to the bar we were in, and much to my surprise the food was incredible! I’m a stickler when it comes to food, and whenever I have an Indian meal I always go for Chicken Madras, and this was the best I’ve ever tasted. The last evening was really lovely, we all got our smart(ish) togs on and went back to the Plaza to choose a restaurant. We settled on one of the prettier ones, and again I’m very glad we did. It’s no understatement to say it was the best meal I’ve ever had, the food was incredible.
But for now it’s back to normality, and the miserable grey weather of Cornwall. It was easily the best holiday I’ve ever had, and I can’t wait to do it again. Plans are already afoot for a Winter excursion somewhere. Good food, good weather, good friends – good times.