Day 1:

Subsequent to a long day of relaxing in the sun at the apartment, with the sun scorching down on us, we strolled into the ancient Spanish town of Ayamonte, which on a Sunday night, wasn’t too chaotic as usual (for now) in the early twilight. As we explored the town,we encountered a variety of interesting and colourful buildings towering above us, coated in blue, white and yellow paint (typical Spanish home colours) to show of their tradition.

Towards the middle of the town, heavy but bright historic church bells droned, overpowering the town, flowing through the crisp, salty sea air, accompanying the waves crashing into the old wooden docks where beggar men lay hoping for some spare change. As we approached the church, people began swarming out like flies to a slab of meat (to our surprise) as this traditional town is very catholic and they flocked to the restaurants near by, where we had intended on eating. As we squeezed our way through the pandemonium, we reached a table in the shade to protect us from the blistering 40ºC heat, even though it was 9:30pm, at a small tapas bar underneath the looming, wooden hinged doors of the church. I used my Spanish speaking skills confidently to order us a array of vibrant and flavourful dishes for everyone. These consisted of fresh from the sea and quite salty seafood dishes (los mariscos), soft but rich potato dishes (platos de patatas) and tender red meat (el carne). All of these dishes were presented along side a serving of salad. As we ambled back to the car, the sun was slowly falling behind us into the river like a ball of gold; shrouding itself beneath the water until the morning.

Day 2:
After a day of slumber and relaxation at the apartment and by the pool, we took a short drive to the beach from our petite apartment, where we finally indulged our senses to the smell of herbs and spices accompanied by the smell of grilled meat on the barbecue, wafting through the air. The golden cool sand of Isla Canela beach stood in front of us, waiting to be trampled on, and as the sun lowered, a sky of majestic spectrum of orange, purple and red was cast, whilst we searched for a tapas bar overlooking the scenery. Fortunately for us, that wasn’t too hard as there were countless numbers of tapas bars dotted all along the sea front. We finally came across a lively looking bar full of locals to indicate that this must be the best around. As we went in, a friendly spanish man greeted us with a ‘hola’ and we replied. I hastily asked him (in spanish) for a table for 4 as crowds were gathering to get in and there weren’t many tables available. He lead us to a recently cleaned table with a pearl white surface, shiny and immaculate considering the way the kitchen was…

We, as the night before, chose a variety of dishes to suit everyone’s palate, ranging from roast aubergine in honey to fried squid rings (fresh from the guadiana sea). After consuming small amounts of food from about 6 dishes, I was feeling quite full, and I didn’t intend on having a dessert. Afterwards, we strolled down the beach side to visit some of the market stalls selling all sorts of things like cheap, sparkling jewellery (la joyeria), food (la comida), ranging from succulent Spanish sweets to chilli coated, golden, roasted peanuts ,and colourful and plastic,but noisy, toys (). The sounds of joyous children floated through the now darkening sky, now full of emerging stars pushing away the darkness with their light. They sprinted everywhere, and there was no stopping them, even though it was midnight.

Day 3:
After an endless quarell between the Mummery family on where to indulge our palate for that night, we finally found a modern seaside restaurant with a diverse range of dishes on offer to us. I wasn’t exactly in favour of eating at all as I was worn out from wondering aimlessly around the town locate a restaurant suitable for all of us, late at night. After endlessly seeking for a dish, I ordered an Iberian sizzling sirloin steak. When it arrived at our table, my eyes lit up with delight, and with my energy now replenished, I carved into my steak covered in Iberian flavours, releasing aromas, floating out of the thick river meat; letting off meandering steam through the darkening night sky. I devoured it, with haste, as my lunch consisted of a simple beans on toast. Also on offer on the table was Iberian pork meatballs, immersed with a rich and thick tomato sauce. Placing those meatballs in my mouth felt like placing an ice cube in instead as it instantly melted in my mouth exploding with flavours like a firework, unlocking a deep vault of blandness in my mouth  and filling it with flavour, breaking free and zinging around my mouth. Another dish that was on our table was a grilled, soft goat cheese dish with a rich and viscous cranberry sauce drizzled, over the cylindrical shape of the goats cheese, oozing out of it; being absorbed deeply into the soft, chalky coloured white cheese. This dish perfectly accompanied our icy, sweet drinks and our view over the black, biodiverse guadiana river.

Day 4: Waterpark day
Approaching the Waterpark, Aqaushow, seemed chaotic, full of aliens that were completely foreign to the idea of sunburn. Being completely glazed in sun cream myself to endure hours of fun in the sun, unlike the other 95% of people at the waterpark, we squeezed our way through the crowds to reach a shady spot which was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Every square inch of green grass was squished beneath burning bodies, many being a rusty red in colour, and towels. After endlessly searching for a shady spot, I raced of to the waterslides, the highest one in fact, while my heart was pounding out of my chest. I didn’t have much time to regain my breath as I had to march up 100’s of coal flaming steps to finally reach the top. Panting, I wasn’t ready to be pushed down a mountainous, cliff like slide. With my heart pulsating, trying to shatter my lungs, I peered over the edge, unable to see the slippery slope as it was so steep. I gently sat down, attempting to grasp on to any type of support available, petrified of slipping. I took a deep breath and pushed away from the mountain peak, and swiftly shot down the slide like a rocket, desiring to crash land as soon as possible. With water spraying all over the face, into every fragment of my now washed out eyes, I attempted, but failed, to combat the surging tsunami with my weedy hands, being as useful as a tissue. Crashing into the shallow pool of chlorine filled water, a vast smile took over my face, and a portion of adrenaline slipped into my body, convincing myself that I could do that one million times over again. As I greeted my family at the bottom, all I knew is that I had crushed the fear that I previously endured, and was ready for a new challenge.

Walking around the park, all I could see was saggy and soggy skin in flamboyance (on both men and women), and a lot of it being shown on display. It wasn’t a pleasant sight or look (on most people).  I on the other hand wore a suitable jet black and Torino red quicksilver swim shirt along with sky blue swim shorts, cutting off the tan line above my knees; contrasting to the others wondering around the park, who tried to wear as little as possible, not giving any concerns of what others may think. With accents flying around through the air, I tried my best to evade any strangers who came in a short radius of me, not wanting to be stroked by a bushy and fleecy chest. 

After a fatiguing day of chasing shade and adrenaline, we got more of a flavour of culture was experienced in town than a flavour of Iberian meat, as the annual polka dot (Flamenco) festival was taking place. The town was seething with joyous fiesta goers from all around Ayamonte. It was an opportunity for the town to come together as a community and celebrate a mutual joy, singing and dancing. Down every street, red and white polkadots streamed from the classic white buildings and homes peering over the cobble stone streets full of care free and euphoric people. Due to the town being so crowded and extremely well attended, we had to park our car around 1km away from the actual town centre, however, even just stepping out the car, at quite a distance to the party, we could see colourful white and cherry red dots, drifting around the town. The sound of passionate choral singing was ubiquitous, whilst being accompanied by the strumming of a ebony wooden guitar played by a young Spanish boy, truly displaying the phenomenal heart of culture in Spain in every generation.

Day 5:
Big House. There is one reason why my favourite restaurant in the whole world is called Big House. Food is everywhere, and being an all you can eat buffet, I really do try and fulfil that saying. Even though it is a Chinese restaurant, the buffet supplies an assortment of food from all over the world, prepared right in front of your hungry eyes on a substantial wok grill, sizzling with oil, firing up the icy meat layered across it, flipping it like a pancake. The options of what to have were endless. There was a starter section ranging from greasy and juicy Chinese style Peking duck pancakes to golden potato wedges (and that’s just a few of the starters available). At the mains (meat and vegetable) section, you could take thick tender slices of steak, icy, glossy, orange shrimps and prawns, along with dark, marinated in BBQ sauce, pork loins. It was a feast for a king, and that is just a small fraction of the food that big house have to offer. Even if you aren’t such a big fan of meat, the vibrant salad bar offered salad foodstuffs, ranging from lettuce to quinoa. The dessert section was equally as outstanding as the other sections consisting of a 3 feet high chocolate fountain with 10 different types of fruit ready to be drenched in the runny, dark chocolate cascading from the top. You could choose fruits such as apples, kiwis, oranges (my personal favourite) and pineapple. Furthermore, if you really have a sweet tooth, you can treat your mouth with a profiterole, oozing with white, soft and fluffy cream enclosed by sweet, spongy pastry, and soak it in the chocolate ravine. Maybe not the most traditional Spanish dining location, but defiantly one to visit, for the less adventurous eaters.

Day 6:
After a lengthy drive from our house in Spain to Portugal, we got quite a surprise. 50ºc. 50ºC is what we had to experience, along with hot coal like sand and a scarce of shade on the Atlantic beach of Albufeira, Portugal. Fortunately for us, we secured our spot on deck chairs to keeps us from the steaming golden flaming coals all over the beach. I made sure I wore a coat of suncream all over my body as I didn’t want my white skin turning to one of a devil. With sea gulls crying out, darting throughout the cloudless blue sky, I lay back on my cushioned plastic deck chair, and over looked the beach, feeling like I was David Hasselhoff.

A gargantuan colourful inflatable obstacle course floated on the calm sea, which caught my eye almost immediately. My eyes lit up in excitement, and instantaneously I stripped to my swim shorts, and dashed into the water, in the company of my sister, where I got an unpleasant surprise. My whole body tensed up like a knot in a rope and I almost let out a slight scream in surprise as the water was freezing. It took me by shock, but I should have anticipated that it was going to be cold as it was the Atlantic. With my hands high in the air, I waded out until I was out of my depth where I began swimming as fast as I could with heavy breaths due to the icy bath of the sea immersing around my body. My body now shaking, I clambered up onto the slippery material where I was greeted by people who were shrieking, screaming and squeaking, but relieved to be warmed up again. There were all sorts of obstacles on this floating fun house, such as balancing beams, slides, rope swings and many more, which were all not an easy task. After about an hour, I made my way back to shore, not feeling as numb as before.

After drying of in the blistering sun, we packed our bags and headed for the town centre, which didn’t feel very foreign at all, as it just felt like hot Britain. English language was all that I could hear, along with English TV in British type bars (like the Geordie Viking). I wasn’t in Portugal, it was artificial England. I hated it, because it made me feel at home, but it was like this everywhere and we had limited options of where we could eat for dinner. We eventually found one of the only non British restaurants in the whole town called Ricardo’s Pizzeria, which was a traditional Italian restaurant, stuffed into three small floors of a narrow building. The dishes were all Italian style, freshly prepared and not frozen and cooked in a microwave pasta and pizza. Thankfully, the waiters were not British, to make it feel a bit more traditional and foreign than other restaurants around. It didn’t take me long to order my meal as I hastily ordered chicken and mushroom tagliatelle, one of my favourite dishes. When it arrived at our light coloured wooden table, with candle wax dripping from the light fulfilling crimson candle, I was delighted. It was the hottest meal I have ever had to prove how fresh it was as to my understanding, it had just come out of the oven. It was served in a terracotta bright green (the colour scheme of the restaurant) oven dish, which was piping hot. The cheese was liquid, and golden, flowing like a river throughout the dish and the pasta was thin and a beautiful yellow, soft and very easy to eat. The chicken and mushroom gave great contrast of flavours and really made it a special dish (better than fish and chips at a bar).

Overall, my trip to Spain this summer was superb. I got to try many new things and have some great experiences of traveling and eating. I often go there as I have a holiday home there, but it never ever gets boring as there is always something to do, for example, last year I went to a national park (Doñana national park) and this year I went to a waterpark. This holiday was a great opportunity for me to simply relax during the day and come alive in the evenings, (that’s why I didn’t write much about the day because we didn’t actually do anything) as Spain is nocturnal. I hope you enjoy reading this and I can’t wait until next year!