While it lasted.

Sitting on the balcony, in the darkness, looking up at the lit up main road, and I can't help but smile. My family are all a metre behind me inside the villa drinking various caffeinated beverages, eating sugary food and on a total alcohol-infused comedown. The week is coming to an end. We fly home to less-than-sunny Newcastle tomorrow. I'm kind of excited as well as disappointed. I'm loving the sun. My tan is coming along rather well. Although, I'm homesick. I miss my boyfriend, my puppy and my own comfy bed. I miss waking up without insect bites and sunburn. I miss being able to walk to the shop without having to layer myself in Factor 15 and armed with sunglasses and a huge hat. Apart from that, my first visit to Menorca has been kinda lovely. I'm tipsy on lager and cider, and really hot air. This time tomorrow, I'll be tucked up in my own, cold bed with nice freezing pillows and the ability to sleep soundly. Back to wearing my parka and jeans. I knew there was a reason summer didn't last forever.

For Gracie.

To the one person who told me to document my holiday antics until I returned to still-quite-sunny Newcastle, to update her, so here you go Gracie. I told you I'd do it. Some may be slightly beating around the bush, for dignity's purpose.

Tuesday 9th July 2013: San Antonio Bay, Ibiza.

As I sit surrounded by young people and one or two families, not satisfied with the way I look in the bikini I'm wearing, the sun blaring down on the stony ground by the pool, I realise how perfect this is. There's the usual lot. The girls who are ready to have the time of their lives, tanning straight away and spend their days giggling away and admiring the lads, and the lads who perhaps fancy themselves a bit too much, tattoos in show and have a bottle of whiskey with breakfast. I have Taylor Swift playing on my iPod and it's so hot, my hair has done that *woo hoo* thing that Phoebe says. A picturesque backdrop of woodland and sand, our hotel is situated literally a minute's walk away from the sandy coastline of San Antonio Bay. Bikinis, sunglasses and pints are out in full-force. All Inclusive alcohol has just kicked off at half ten and we're already drinking what is fondly known in Geordieland as Trebles. A mad week ahead I think. I miss by blog but my notebook and phone will suffice. Cue the cameras and fasten your seatbelts, you're about to have the best week of your lives.

If I stopped lying, I'd just disappoint you.

As I sit here listening to Robbie Williams' Come Undone, it finally hits me how much of a brilliant week I've just had. I got back from Ibiza yesterday morning, and I'm already terribly nostalgic and sad to have left the white isle. This is a song that's played one-too-many times around the pool over the last seven days, and while I was feeling close to depressed at it's constant playing, I think I've learned to love it for what it represents. I'm donning a very commercialized 'I heart Ibiza' top and trying to hold on to the hilarious, fabulous and drunken memories of the past week. With more funny quotes than you can shake a stick at, and hundreds of photos, I think it's safe to say we'll be reminiscing for a while yet.

We met so many lovely people, I guess I should say hello to you all, just in case one or two of you actually stumble across this. So, a big hello to Amy and Courteney, Alex, Danny, Lucky (of course!) Jack, Sam, Tom and Jamie, Gaz/"grandad", the man who actually claimed he was Paddy McGuinness' brother (yes, WHAT) as well as all the lads from Manchester, including Ollie and not forgetting Luke Longsocks. Also, George, the owner of the cafe on the corner, a woman who had never heard of "Charlotte", Isabella and everyone else who actually made our holiday one of the best experiences in my entire life.

Big thanks to you all. I haven't got much to say on that front, but here's a few little messages;
Alex, if you're reading this, fetch me some absinthe (oh, and well done on finding this, you said you would!). Jack, I'm still awaiting my diamond, so hurry the hell up. Sam, I'll try and write my novel by next week and send it to you, but don't worry if it's a bit late. Tom, I seriously miss our apple schnapps sessions, even if there's next to no alcohol in them, so I must find myself a bottle. Jamie, I seriously can't wait for these photos to appear on facebook. And for god sakes Luke, take your long socks off, it's thirty nine degrees out.

An amazing week in the sun, partying our arses off. There's so many more blog updates to come so hold on tight.