The mere two words send me into suppressing many heavy sighs. I'm back. Back in England. Better yet*, back in the rain.
*It's absolutely not better at all.
After a sunny week in the city of Albufeira, Portugal, I'm left feeling pretty defeated (and pale). There's just something about coming back to reality which isn't nearly as elating as waking up to the view of the crystal blue ocean and bright red men in Speedo's sunning themselves beside the pool - really, you learn to appreciate it given the circumstances.
Having drank my weight in Fanta Orange; sunbathed myself possibly PALER than before I even left; rifled my way through five magazines and two books; risked my life (and my nail varnish) climbing/being dragged across some huge rocks to reach a beach I didn't know existed and falling in love at first Coke with a waiter, I am back in my own bed, in my pyjamas, with a list of blog posts the length of my legs to share with you all.
Strap lines at the ready, I am just about ready to wave goodbye to the Summer. But not until after a spray tan, or six.
How was your week?
Storm x
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