A year in the life of a Marbelli (Week 25)

Well, I have to say it’s nice to be back home. Our week’s trip to Italy was wonderful but between the Italian mosquitoes and homemade ice cream, my body was thankful to return.

Just in time as well, because every year on the 23rd June, the Spanish celebrate ‘La Noche de San Juan’ and it is a beach party I never like to miss! This traditional night-time festival is celebrated on the shortest night of the year and along with its magical customs, marks the beginning of the summer season. Crowds gather after dark to enjoy the pop up beach bars, live bands and weird beliefs that are a custom here in Spain. Huge bonfires are lit on the beaches to scare away evil spirits and a series of rituals are performed for good luck as well as a great excuse to have a few drinks!

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Every year we go down and join in with the festivities and lucky rituals by dipping our feet in the sea at midnight for good luck. I was told that as an alternative, I could have attempted to jump over the bonfire three times to bring me luck, but looking at the height of the flames and remembering the teachers face as I attempted the high jump at school, I decided to give that a miss too!

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There are of course some bizarre traditions that I have tried in the past but have failed to work –Cutting an onion cut into 12 segments with a pinch of salt on each, apparently foresees which month the next years rainfall will land on by leaving droplets of water on the certain segments and the other one that never worked was washing my head three times and asking for three wishes ……that Caribbean holiday, luxury yacht and Aston Martin will just have to wait!

Friday was the end of the school year, so as the ‘dutiful’ mother, I went to the end of year concert and dragged Savannah along with me. Now, having four children, I fall into the ‘terrible mother’ bracket in these situations. The first thing I look at is the beautifully printed concert sheet to see how long the show is and breath a sigh of relief if it is anything less than 60 minutes.

Knowing that I’m now on a winner, I then sit down happily taking videos of my child whilst trying to manoeuvre the lens around the tall father sitting in the row in front of me. After a few moans as I stand up (to dodge the tall father in the row in front of me) I end up with a video of every other child in the class, especially the main pupil who has been carefully selected by the school for his ‘perfectness’ to be the main star of the show! His gloating parents seated in the front row, looking at me with a sympathetic expression as I just manage to get a quick shot of mine at the back of the stage dressed in either a makeshift banana suit or looking like Friar Tuck in a shepherds outfit! I swear if Hilton is a shepherd again this Christmas, I shall go and push Joseph off the stage!

Concert over, no more niceties to the revelling Mums and it’s the long summer break – YES, I can lie in, stop pretending I’m off to the gym and avoid the Ann Summers coffee mornings for a few months!

Anyway, bye for now and see you next week.

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