Oh, everybodies starry eyed.

I've only been home a day and already I feel like I need another holiday. Although the one just passed was exactly what I needed. A week of nothing - minus drinking and sunbathing.

I would write down everything about it, but really I am far too lazy, plus thoughts just flow together better when put in list form. Although I'll no doubt remember more things once I've posted this.

The taxi driver who only got into the job "to look at girls in bikinis", the fridge filled with nothing but wine and a bottle of diet coke, peach schnappes after every meal, dancing to The Killers with six cute Irish guys, Molly Malone's, starting and finishing The Beach in a day, Catch Me If You Can, "I wish I lived in the sixties", lots and lots of jugs of cocktails, "We'll have an easy night tonight then...?" "Ooh, look! Two Jagerbombs for five Euros", Disco Inferno, only going home because all five of us have no money left and the bank machine's not working, Sambuca shots, lots and lots of Jagerbombs, creepy Spanish guys, shopping trolleys, tuna pizza, nutella, drunk texts, bouncy castles, vodka and diet coke, coming joint first in a kareoke competition - spending the winnings buying the bar staff a drink, "Our flight is tomorrow, we need to be packed and out the room at ten am - what time is it?" "Um, ten past five in the morning?", The Garage - but in Santa Ponsa!, t-shirts from The Garage, vodka slushies at one in the afternoon.