hola

Last week was spent in (not so) sunny Lanzarote, and walking around in flip flops and a vest* was like a breath of fresh air. 

We shared a villa with my parents, whose presence both soothed and irritated me in equal measure.  It is lovely to find household chores being uncomplainingly taken on by my Mum, and a cup of tea being frequently offered was the epitome of being well cared for.  Still, my Father's petulance and tantrums annoyed my intensely, as did my Mother's determination to tolerate them.  That said, I like being on holiday with them, and admire their advenurous spirit in talking to the locals (yep, real live bona fide Canarians whom Mark and I would avoid clashing gazes with for fear of striking up a conversation), and their matter of fact approach to going into places and doing stuff.  My Dad actually went along to the local gym last time he was there - by himself!!  Zut alors.  (or the Spanish equivalent).  Truly, for Mark and I it would be like the manifestation of all our horrors - going into a place and speaking to people.  Really, it's a marvel either of us have got this far in life without turning into an amoeba. 

Day 1:

 

 

These two rocked up every day once they twigged that bread was on offer.  Oliver called them Barry and Pecky.  Don't ask.

 

 

 

But this was his favourite friend:

 

 

Patchy, the naughty kitten. 

 



 



 As you see.

The pool was cold, and on this day there was a 90mph (at least) wind whistling across it.  You will note that there is nobody else in swimming.  Oliver is laughing and pointing at his Nan tiptoeing and screeching her chilly way down the steps to get in. 

He stopped laughing pretty quick.

And it was all hunkydory until you stood up in the howling gale again.

I think there is something wrong with the colour setting on my camera.  The water was not that blue, and the beans not that orange. 

We took a trip over to Matagorda to see the planes scream in overhead.

 

The photos do not do justice to the closeness and size of these jets - it is a brilliant free thrill to be had I can tell you.

And a huffy-puffy walk up the side of a mountain for the view and the crater that once was.

 

 

And on the last day, the sun shone glorious and bright and the wind all but disappeared.  Quelle surprise.

Think I could quite happily live in Lanzarote from January to March.  It felt so very bleak landing in the grey dampness of yesterday. 

*other items of clothing were worn.  Phew.