A night in Alicante

Kloe, Jess and I took the bus to Alicante on Saturday to see Alex, Antonia (and her brother Alex who was visiting) and Betty – fellow erasmuserrrrs. The sun clearly didn’t want to say hey and we had rain and no umbrellas, cue using beach towels to get to Alex’s to get ready for our night.

I let Kloe do my make up and had actual eyeshadow on my actual eyelids like an actual girl. Kloe’s a make up wizard so managed to make me look half decent, what a star. I got a bit of apartment envy as the places in Alicante are so much more modern than our granny flats in Ye Olde Murcia… And Alex’s living area is probably bigger than my whole flat, not fair. We headed back to Antonia and Betty’s to pre drink and meet some of their friends. We had cups the size of our faces and more people to pre drink than the room really permitted. A few hours later we headed to Marmarela, a cocktail bar basically on the sea. I blanked out as soon as we arrived like everyone else because those cups really were ridiculously big, so don’t remember much of what it looked like but I know it was preeeetty.

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The place felt like a mini festival, was free to get in and the music was actually banging. Me and Kloe head banged for way too long and now have sore necks still 3 days later which is pathetic. The DJ kept looking back at me, if I gave him a thumbs up he seemed satisfied and got back to playing music, weird.

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We were all having a really good night until Kloe told me the police were there and drama had begun. I won’t go into detail but things just esculated quickly; a few were covered in blood, I heard a lot of arguing with the police in Spanish and then the ambulance arrived. Drama drama drama. This random ordeal went on until about 7am, then we rejoined at KFC, I ate the batter from other peoples chicken because I’m such a good vegetarian..

Anyway, apart from the unnecessary police & ambulance drama we had a pretty good night. The Alicante girls are so lovely so I hope I get to see them again at some point in the UK.

People are starting to leave Spain now because the term is over which makes me emosh, basically, I wish everyone lived in Hertfordshire so I could pop by for pesto pasta and rubbish games of ring of fire.

Mary x

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