Cafe Culture.

Thank God for Trunki.


Thank God for Trunki, because the Major buggy is a complete pain in the arse at airport security, so this time I checked it with the bags. We had a few bitter tears when Trunki had to go off to be X-rayed, especially when the iPad had to be taken out. But they soon dried up once Trunki came back and Freddie could see the iPad was back inside.

This is the first, and will be the last, time we organise a holiday without using a travel agent. It’s been a complete ball ache; just getting here was more stressful than many major life events! But the apartment is very nice (that’s the only detail that I was responsible for booking, of course). And being in the heart of the old town has its advantages.

After going 12 hours without a coffee I had to be rushed to the Churrerria next door for an emergency caffeine infusion.

So, the Churrerria doesn’t ‘do’ orange juice. No matter, Freddie thoughtfully arranged, in retrospect, for peach juice to be his new favourite drink.

Sadly, the freshly prepared Churros did not get the Freddie seal of approval. But I can live with that. 

There’s no shortage of things to do (mummy) / ways to be relieved of your cash (daddy).

Is it a bird? Is it a hand? Is it a ‘bird in the hand’? Which is worth two in the bush (and I don’t want to see that sculpture).


Because if the age difference between Freddie and his big sister, I often wonder if people assume Lucy is our au pair. Perhaps that’s why no one questions it when she orders a drink which she thinks is a lemon squash drink…

It doesn’t taste like lemon


That turns out to be…

GIN!


It buzzing here in the evening, but in a family-friendly way. 

Trying to photobomb the couple taking a selfie at the next table.


I don’t think Freddie’s ever seen 10pm in the UK, but he held up very well, especially considering we got him up at 5am to go to the airport. In fact, I think he enjoyed every minute, he was as good as gold (and better).

10pm! You dirty little stop-out …

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