My first 7 weeks in my new life in Ontinyent, Valencia.
In the aftermath of a most excellent wedding and an even more excellent party, we set off to Costa Rica with the echoes of “La Bamba” ringing in our ears. If you ever need to hire a party band check out Aisha Kahn & The Rajahs, they wrapped up their brilliant set with the most rocking La Bamba EVER, and it became the theme tune for the entire honeymoon.
It’s not until we spoke to a tour guide back in Bordeaux that we learnt the importance of this festival that reaches across the whole Arcachon Basin. “Oysters are like religion here” he told us, and the passion for these little alien looking blobs of saline and sweetness really comes into its own once you reach Arès.
The Island of 8am happy hours, legal drink driving, Cutters and Mount Gay Rum. We arrived on this boozy island on Jan 1st, already laden with UK spawned megalithic hangovers, still lingering after an exceptional NYE in London. The kind of hangover that you feel may well last the entire holiday, if not for the rest of your life, forcing you to accept feeling like a bucket of pigs swill for all eternity.
Both Px & I had previously taken our then respective partners to The Dam, and both had experienced a less than great time. I have no idea what I was thinking taking a skunk addict to Amsterdam, I only have myself to blame, for what turned out to be two days of smoke fuelled, bug eyed resentment.