November 1st, 1990
Flight from LGW – AGP, as passengers
I was four the first time I visited Spain with mum and Nana, a holiday I remember or believe I do, thanks, in part I imagine to photographs and stories of that time. Every year from then until my mid-teens, I’d return twice a year; once in the Spring with mum, Nana and one of my cousins and again in the Summer with mum and dad.
Super early start with dad on the phone at four this morning (my personal wake-up call!) which was lucky as I’d forgotten to set the alarm. I crept into the guest room to say bye to Frankie but she was sound asleep so I left a note on the bedside table with instructions on how to lock up.
It was still dark when I picked mum up. Made our way to Millie’s, where I’d arranged to leave my car. Millie was in good spirits as she prepared a light breakfast before dropping us off at the North Terminal. Fortunately, there were plenty of available seats on the flight so there was no issue with staff travel tickets (unlike the fiasco I experienced trying to get home from Cologne via Dusseldorf!)
Two hours and ten minutes later, we touched down at Malaga airport and caught the train to Benalmadena, which cost peanuts. The apartment we’re in (rented from a fellow crew member) is just around the corner from the train station which will no doubt prove to be convenient.
Spent the remainder of the day on the balcony with mum, enjoying the sea view, soaking up the rays, answering roughly twenty percent of the bazillion questions mum posed! After oohing and aahing at the sun set, we headed out and found a restaurant close by whose specialty is paella. The wine was perfectly chilled and the food and service were amazing, we shall return for sure!
Heading to bed just before midnight, thinking about David in the knowledge his flight to Tokyo will be taking off in the next hour, by which time I’ll be in dreamland.