We’ve been back in Barcelona for a few days now, but I have yet to close this chapter of our summer. So here goes. I took fewer detailed notes during our last couple of days in Mallorca so I don’t have as much to blog about. I guess it was about here that I really started to relax.
Saturday
2:00pm – We’re back at the same little beach as Thursday. Today we’re here a little earlier so the sun is actually stretched across the whole beach and not blocked by the impressive cliffs on each side of the cove. Sebastian just knocked down every sand castle he could find and is now happily sitting in a hole that some kid dug. Emily and Cata are watching some little French girl catch fish with a butterfly net and I just spent 15 minutes with Jan’s goggles, watching the schools of fish dart between everyone’s legs in the crystal-clear waters.
5:30pm – The shortest route back from the beach cuts through the pool deck of a neighboring hotel. There are four girls in what appear to be four giant hamster wheels trying to run in the pool. They’re mostly falling down. Emily wants to try it but this isn’t our hotel and we probably shouldn’t stay too long. I want to try it, too.
8:50pm – Inspired from the night before, we’re back at the kiddie disco. Emily and Cata are both up on the stage having a grand old time. It’s funny watching them wiggle their little bottoms.
10:30pm – The week’s debauchery has caught up with me and I have happily volunteered to stay at home tonight on kid patrol while Jan, Isabella, and Andrés paint the town red. I’ll catch up on some work, update my fantasy baseball team, and go to sleep early. I need it.
Sunday
8:00am – I’m already down by the pool with Sebastian and the hordes of German early-morning deckchair claimers are mysteriously absent. They must have gone home yesterday.
10:30am – This is our last full day in Mallorca so we’re gonna try and make the most of it. And by ‘make the most of it’ I mean do absolutely nothing. Just chill by the pool. All day long. Nice.
4:00pm – I couldn’t resist one final game of volleyball on the sand court across the road. The hotel staff count on me now to play any time they schedule a match. I’m happy to oblige. I haven’t played (for real) in such a long time. I can’t wait until everyone gets back from their summer holidays and the games start up at HP again. It really is one of the only things that keeps me from working from home all the time.
Monday
8:00am – Every morning, I take Sebastian down to the restaurant for breakfast at some ungodly hour and he usually eats five bites before needing to run around the entire hotel from pool to playground and back again. I usually have three minutes to eat my own breakfast. Why on Earth have I not thought to eat outside on the terrace where I can comfortably eat and watch him run around at the same time? Oh well, I’ll know for next year. In the meantime, I’m enjoying my breakfast. For once.
12:40pm – The restaurant opens for lunch in five minutes. We’ll then have 15 minutes to eat (and feed the kids) before the bus arrives to bring us to the airport. On your marks…
1:15pm – We’re standing on the sidewalk outside the hotel with all our bags while the kids run everywhichway. The bus is five minutes late. I could have had dessert after my lunch! I’m off to the bar to take final advantage of our “todo incluido” wristbands and get some drinks for the bus ride. One piña colada, one white vermouth, one Cuba Libre, and one orange granizado with rum coming right up!
4:00pm – Our flight is experiencing a slight delay. None of the restaurants in the airport appear to have a corkscrew to open the bottle of wine I just bought in the duty free shop. It was much easier finding a corkscrew in the Barcelona airport when I bought a bottle before we left. Mmmmm… airport drinking!
4:10pm – Never mind, I found one. Crisis averted. Wine is flowing in the waiting area of Gate 86. And we’ve got an entire box of After Eights to get through.
6:00pm – We’ve landed in Barcelona. It’s a beautifully pleasant summer evening. In the immortal words of Emily from the end of our last trip to England, “It’s nice to go on holiday. But it’s also nice to come home.”
I agree with emily, It is always nice to go away, but for some reason, it is also nicer to come home. and that is a testament to the love and comfort found in a true home, like yours. I am so glad you had a lovely holiday, and now you must try torelax and recovery from your vacation. Welcome home. I look forward to speaking to you this afternoon (my time, of course). I love y’all.
Nana aka Mom