Boondock Puffins

Getting up early following the Feria de Sevilla was a test of all our energy levels. Nevertheless, Tom and I went for an early morning walk around Seville while we waited for our friends to wake up and shrug off their hangovers.

We were only in Seville for such a short amount of time, and have already made promises to return at some point in the next few years to properly see the city (ideally at a time when it’s not like strolling round the bottom of an oven).

Collecting our friends as we grabbed our rucksacks, we ambled across the city to retrieve the car and headed off towards the seaside.

Upon arrival at the tiny beachside town (village?) of San Diego, just past Sotogrande, we called the beach club for lunch. It’s owned by a friend of our Spanish friend, and apparently the owner divides his time between running the beach club in summer and a bar up in the ski resort in Sierra Nevada in winter. Not a bad life set up!

Lunch was incredible, particularly the platter of tuna and salmon sashimi, all of which was improved by the shot of pacharan (a popular Spanish spirit that tastes a bit like aniseed/liquorice) with which our host insisted on presenting us as we were about to leave. When I say shot, it would be more accurate to say tumbler. I think Spanish shots may simply be measured differently! We promised to return for the opening night’s party later in the evening and headed back to our AirBnB.

Or at least that was our aim. As it happened, someone (naming no names, although we had left all of the organisation up to our local friend!) had forgotten to send the information of our arrival time to our hosts, and as a result we weren’t able to actually access our room.

Thankfully, it was beautiful weather and, as we had had to pack all our items into our tiny rucksacks, we had everything we needed to wait around in style… on the beach. Swimming costumes on, microfibre towels out, and we were on for a perfect bob around in the only slightly cool sea. There is something so delightful about being able to float around and enjoy the tepid water when you know it is so hot out, and you also have absolutely nothing else that you are able to do.

Eventually, we managed to get hold of the AirBnB host and could head into our room. We got changed, all mourned the lack of siesta on this day, and headed to the ‘6pm’ party on time in the Spanish style… 2.5 hours late.

What an opening night! When we arrived, there were snacks going around, an awesome upbeat atmosphere, mini burgers as a treat, a man playing along on a trumpet with the DJ… what more could you wish for? The only slight danger was the size of drink: a rum and coke came in a pint glass, and half the pint was rum! Tom and I did our best to stay up late and pretend to be in our early 20s again, eventually leaving in the small hours of the morning and abandoning our friends to their fate of terrible hangovers once again!

It goes without saying that the following morning was – for our friends – particularly disastrous. It’s enough to feel like a student again when you wake up to the sound of someone vomiting from a hangover.

Tom took over the drive to the airport so that our friends could sleep / focus on not being too sick in the back, and we returned to Lyon with all of us almost in one piece!