Bonfizzle Nizzle

I have always liked to look at fireworks.

But for as long as I have liked them, I have equally hated the loud noise that they make.

I'm a complete whimp when it comes to loud noises - 

even when a car with a stupidly big exhaust drives past and makes a lot of noise I can a little bit scared - 

but that is besides the point.

I remember as a wee girl either staying inside and watching fireworks from the window 

or standing in front of my Dad and making him cover my ears.

But after the fist minute of flinching and wincing at the bangs so loud you can feel them vibrating in your chest on Friday, I was cured.

I think the fact that they timed the fireworks to the theme tunes of Harry Potter (genius idea!), The Pirates of the Caribbean and ET seriously helped, because the melodies distracted me from the actual bangs.

Also, as two side notes, 1. How beautiful is the light from the bonfire?

And 2. After a minor dispute and a quick google search, I can confirm that between Ross & I, I am always right - we have fire on bonfire night because of the gunpowder plot, not because Guy Fawkes was burnt to death as punishment.

If you're bothered he was actually hung, drawn and quarter, which to me actually sounds much worse, 

but please don't sign me up for either.

Oh, Ronda

Oh Ronda, 

my dear, dear Ronda.

You were so pleasant. 

Your sky was so blue and your scenery was spectacular 

- I've never seen views like that before.

You kinda took my breath away actually.

You offered us tapas, and we gratefully accepted.

You even offered us donut flavoured ice cream and we even more gratefully accepted that.

You showed us the oldest bull ring in the world 

(I'm sorry that we arrived there after dark though)

and a plethora of other gorgeously architected buildings. 

Thank you Ronda, you really were the best. 

From Morocco, with love

Even though a photo is sometimes sufficient enough to help you capture a moment and remember it forever, that was not the case with Morocco.

The dry heat, the aromatic fragrance of the spices, the shapes, the colours, the patterns, the constant hum of noise, the toothless grins and the bartering.

Oh, the bartering. 

People are on you all.the.time.

Putting things round your neck, drapping things over your wrists, saying "give me five euros for this bracelet. It's beautiful, for a beautiful girl. It's the hand of Fatima, very lucky."

Ross bought a fez hat. The camel man that sold it to him wanted €50 at first...he eventually settled for €5. 

Unbelievable. I couldn't make this stuff up. 

Well, there are enough pictures for me to only use minimal words, but first, two points. 

1). The picture of Chlo & Jared with the camel absolutely cracks me up.

The camel is definitely getting in on the cheesy grin action.

2). That picture of Ross, the one on the left, oh be still my heart.

What a stud.

Stay still please, Marbella

I'm not going to get too wordy, because there are enough pictures for me not to have to.

(Does that sentence even make sense? I'm not even sure.)

But let me just make a few points.

1). We got pretty horribly lost. 

And usually getting lost would've been pretty annoying, but I snapped picture numbero 4 whilst we were driving round (and round and round) and figured there were worse places to be lost in.

2). The amount of pictures of wandering around Marbella old town and pictures from the beach are proportional to my enjoyment of both activities. 

I love to see things and take pictures of things and get easily bored at the beach.

Although we did see thong man at the beach (you can't miss him! He's a 2:40 of the video), which sweetened the entire day. 

3). The sea looks a horrible murky colour in the picture of me & Ross, but it wasn't.

It was perfectly clear, but just looks gross because of all the swirling sand.

4). This is all I have to say on the matter.

Amen.

This is how we roll

Sometimes we have family parties.

Always they involve cups of tea for the older members of la famille, 

trampoline bouncing, that may or may not encourage younger members of the fam to pretend that they can fly, 

excellent desserts that I will inevitably eat too many of and end up with a food baby, 

 and some kind of celebratory singing.

(Happy Birthday Chlo!)

On Saturday we had a family party and for the first time ever, ever in our entire family history, we had a pinata.

It's day later now and I'm still left shrugging my shoulders and asking myself why we have never had one before.

Such hilarity.

The babe of the family Natalie took to beating the floor and nearly injured a few people and other members of the family swung the rolling pin so furiously that I think if they'd have been sent to London during the riots they'd have sent the rioters home crying.

I have was the first one to make that poor pinata share its treasure.

(I'm quite proud of that fact.)

Plus, it has sweets as a guaranteed outcome.

Bonus.