Alicante with the girls

Girls trip. In Alicante. Need I say more? There is really honestly truthfully I-swear-on-my-mother’s-grave (oh, hi mum!) nothing more invigorating, more empowering, more fun and infinitely more daggy than a girls trip to anywhere. And anywhere with blue skies and endless velvet beaches is a definite bonus.

I mean, girl-bonding is really nothing like boy-bonding. Boy bonding involves… drinking. That’s it, it’s pretty simple the boy thing because well, they are simple. Us on the other hand, we’re multi-faceted, complex creatures. We need depth, conversation, laughter, tears (of laughter), gossip, analyses, bikinis, sunshine, ice cream, bubbly and most of all, we need good food.

The boys, I don’t think they ate at all.

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When I went to Barcelona, Spain for a weekend last October, on the first day we ate Mexican food. Yeh I don’t know why either. And on the second day, I was hit by the mother of all flus, and had I actually been able to squeeze a morsel of Spanish food past my tonsils (which felt like they were the size of baseballs) I would have done, and probably raved on about it. But alas, I painfully swallowed my cold and flu tablets, and stayed in bed…

tapas_paella_churros_2

So this time round, I wanted to get in as much as I possibly could in the two days we were there. 

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