GIRLY WEEKEND TO MARBELLA

I haven’t had a chance yet to write about our mellow girly weekend to Marbella. My friend has bought a holiday home out there, so six of us went out from Friday to Monday last week. It was just lovely to go at this time of year – the weather was still gloriously hot and we booked it months ago so it really didn’t cost any money for flights. We are all old friends back in the dim and distant past when our children were all still at nursery and between the six of us we were abandoning 19 children – all of whom are still living at home so you can imagine the organisation required to leave the country. You can also imagine the delight of escaping (once of course we were on the plane and over our trauma of only being allowed to take hand luggage – although have you seen the size of the bags that are now allowed on as hand luggage? HUGE! and I’m going to have to invest in one immediately).

We didn’t get to the villa until sundowner time and then spent the first evening at a very lovely Beach Bar, called the “Beach House” – not sure of the address. Very upmarket and delicious food and right on the beach:-

Saturday we went to Puerto Banus – first to the market:-

and then down to the port for lunch on the beach and to look at the big cruise liners in the marina. What a lot of money there is there – the shops are majorly top end and clearly mainly Russian Oligarchs own all the boats – interesting to see that the estate agents only had details in Russian in it’s window:-

The beach:-

The Buddha Bar:-

Then later that evening we went into Marbella old town for dinner. It is beautiful. Lots of little narrow lanes leading on to yet more restaurants and bars and churches and gorgeous old buildings. First stop was a bar where my poor friend nearly died after eating “the wrong pepper”. A whole plate of roasted sweet green peppers interspersed with two or three peppers SO hot she had no feeling in her lips, tongue or entire head for about an hour:-

We were here – be warned:-

It was a buzzy little square, complete with resident Flamenco dancer who I thought was amazing – all the more so for being almost an octogenarian:-

Here are the girls:-

THEN because we’d had a few drinks we decided to wander down to the port area which is a little more lively in a different sort of way – lots of bars. We found one that looked suitable for our age (ie that had available seating) and promptly settled in for the evening. The bar was called “Lemmon” and was offering two for one drinks. WOOHOO. So we got stuck in and then decided that we would take to the dancefloor at the back of the bar. Nobody there so we were fine. Settled in at the back and “got on down” in only the way that mother’s out on the town who no longer give a shit about what they look like can. Several of us broke into the VIP area and danced wildly in front of horrified cool people knowing full well that we would be removed immediately BUT WE DIDN”T EVEN CARE – such is the joy of being old (er).

In our enthusiasm we failed to notice the club filling up and before we knew it we were surrounded by 12 year olds. “OH WELL WFT”, we shouted loudly to each other increasing the size of our ridiculous dance moves exponentially. “You really shouldn’t wave your arms in the air like that” one friend commented to me “much better waving them side to side” and I was thinking “don’t be ridiculous – I AM Beyonce – I have to wave my arms in the air I don’t care what I look like” and so we all agreed to just not care that we looked like Grannies – “we’ll show them what we’ve got” we all thought to ourselves – you should have seen us dancing to Maroon 5’s “Move Like Jagger” – I mean these young things probably hadn’t even heard of Jagger, let alone knew how he properly moved – WE DID – HE’S OUR AGE (nearly). Anyway, for some reason the gorgeous young things didn’t find us as cool and amusing as we found ourselves and at one point my friend nearly got into a girl fight. I actually had to get involved and offer to dance in between the two of them whilst quietly mumbling to my friend that I’d appreciate it if she could stop telling her to “f*ck off” because if we ended up getting glassed in the face and taken off to a Spanish prison how was I ever going to live it down with my son who I had just got over doing the same thing in Krakov.

We had a great evening and danced the entire night away – well until 4am which was pretty good for us.

Sunday was spent recuperating quietly on the beach:-

Here we are back at the Beach house again for lunch which had everybody dancing thanks to their live music:-

All in all an excellent weekend and highly recommended. Any questions, I’ll get my friend who speaks Spanish to answer them x