I’ve just spent a week in Malaga, Spain, with my mum’s whole family. I probably won’t see them again for at least two years, maybe three. Everyone is scattered all over: My parents and I are in England, my aunt and her family live in Australia, my uncle and his family are in the States, and my Oma and Opa (that’s grandma and granddad) live in Malaga.
It’s difficult to re-bond with people you haven’t seen for years, especially when you have just six days to do so. What made it harder was the presence of other, more-distant relatives, who were lovely and nice and everything, but I could feel my anxiety spike whenever they were around.
My parents and I have spent the last three days in Seville. So far we have ridden in a horse and carriage, rowed around a moat in a little boat, and watched some flamenco dancing. I have eaten ice cream with little flakes of ham on it, which you wouldn’t think would taste very nice, but it bizarrely did. My mum has found what she calls “the best flan in Seville.”
Our Spanish adventure will be over in just five days; I wonder what they will bring? ♦