España
After an incredible ten days in the Bahamas, watching two of my great friends get married, I landed back in London to torrential rain and was forced to swap my sundress for a massive jumper pretty sharpish. As you can probably imagine, this didn’t make me jump for joy.
So when my friend Sophie asked if I fancied a long weekend at her parents place in Spain I didn’t hesitate. Jumping on a plane after work on Friday meant we woke up happy as clams in the warm and quickly set off for the beach.
We’d decided on a beach in nearby Marbella so strolled along the promenade to Puerto Banus and hopped on the catamaran. You can easily drive there or cycle but if a boat is an option, it’s always going to be the one I pick.
We commandeered a net at the back of the boat and made ourselves very much at home, kicking off our shoes and reclining, taking in every drop of sunshine.
Then, just when we thought things couldn’t get any better, the most delightful man came running over and asked if we’d care for a mojito for the journey. Three guesses what we said to that….
We strongly considered just staying on the boat all day and travelling back and forth drinking mojitos but decided we should probably stick to the original plan.
We spent the afternoon plonked, book in hand, only occasionally getting up when it got too hot and a dip was deemed necessary. Eventually though, tummies began to rumble and the call of the restaurant and the promise of a chilled glass of rosé became too strong to resist.
Beetroot and quinoa salad and a club sandwich to share, obviously with a sneaky little portion of chips thrown in for good measure. 
We settled in for a few hours, chatting and people watching before making our way back to the beach with the last of the rosé for sunset.
After a quick drink in the old town we headed home to see Sophie’s sisters who’d just arrived from London and wasted no time making watermelon martinis to drink on the terrace.
- Daddy James getting in on the Instagram action
The next 2 days were more of the same, breakfast on the balcony followed by the beach or the pool.
Sunday meant heading down to Mistral Beach for the day. Cocktails were drunk, backgammon was played and snoozes were had, with no one feeling the need to do anything even remotely strenuous.
On Monday we didn’t even make it as far as the beach, ambling instead down to the pool and nipping up and down every time we needed a nibble, a coffee or a sangria.
In short, it was utter bliss. If someone could take me back now, that’d be much appreciated.
Tales of a London Girl 