A Birthday Fit For A Princess

We’ve got a HUGE choice of three bars and two restaurants within a mile of here. We prefer the Spanish bar because it’s more human friendly than the one next door, and it’s where all our pals go.

During the 18+ months we’ve lived here, using fluent broken English and fluent broken Spanish the owners have also become friends of ours.

Therefore we all get invited to every kind of celebration you can think of, which includes all OUR birthdays / wedding anniversary’s / dates of when we moved here / our family or friends on holiday / before someone has to reluctantly go back to Britain for a few days / after they get back home elated / which basically means there’s a party on every other week.

Any day will do, just sit outside in the warmth of the evening sun, drink champers, have a dam good laugh and uh oh, a dance… Yes, I always get roped into doing the Flamenco, except it doesn’t quite look right when wearing nothing but a pair of shorty shorts, a shorty T shirt, and sandals… Does it matter? No. Did Dave get any photos? No. Good.

So last night was K´s turn, the owners daughter, a princess for the day…

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The cake…

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The dancing…

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Feliz Cumpleanus K…!

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