When the Cheshire emerges...

Getting back to London was both sad and relieving. Sad because the tour was over and relieving because I was in London again, where I had more shopping to do. Only problem was, with the presents I’d kept locked up in my London hostel AND what I’d bought over the tour left next to little room in the suitcase. But as long as I got to Spain after these two days to send stuff home there, I’d be fine.

That was until I entered Topshop on Oxford St. Woah. So so overwhelming, on the ground floor alone I grabbed five different accessories and struggling to hold them all I had to contain myself. Tried on about 15 things on one floor and felt sorry for the fitting room controller, who like me normally had to deal with swapping clothes etc etc. That was before the Vintage floor. O.M.G. I just about passed out with excitement at the pieces they had in there – sadly left behind an 80s prom dress worth GBP99 and a pair of vintage shoes. Heartbreaking. Having to pick only one pair of shoes because of bloody weight restraints killed me. Killed me. I vow to return.

Being the day before the Aussie election and not having exempted ourselves, headed to Australia House to vote. Tbh, I didn’t know who I was voting for; I just remember feeling sick and being given water before I put my ballot through. But it was fun all the same, not something you do every day. Got to the Camden Markets (second time for me) soon after: more amazing this time because I scoured just about every corner of those stables. With the help of Anthony of course, my patient partner-in-crime! And I introduced him to the world of crepes – albeit the messiest crepe he’ll ever eat in his life; certainly was for me. Speaking of food, finally had Indian in London and it was really good. Really enjoy eating it now… now I’m hungry thinking about it!

Second day was all for Jana because it was her birthday! Went to the Tower of London, which was interesting – but it was so so cold! Borough Markets for a fantastic lunch at the request of Angela (best falafel wrap I’ve ever had, think my body went into shock because of its goodness). Then went to the British Museum with Helen to see relics of the Parthenon. Oh that made me angry. It’s not just one or two things, it’s a whole frickin’ gallery. Half the thing is in this museum and they refuse to give it back to Athens. It’s an absolute joke. Breathe… Okay, so went out to Leicester Square and had nice Italian for dinner at Jana’s request which was nice.

I began my solo journey well, arriving at the airport nice and early. Weighed my suitcase – 25.1kg. Oh no. 50P excess fee unless I can get it down by putting things in my hand luggage and fit THAT and my huge handbag into the metal box thing. Half an hour later I manage to do it and get my suitcase to 21.9kg. 10P fee, 40P SAVED. Boo-yah. Next thing I know I’m at the train station in Valencia about to make my way to the hostel – in the HEEEEEEAT (that's a good thing, I was SO excited). Only problem is my ticket wouldn’t let me past the gate. About to attempt jumping over when a local family came to my rescue. Bless them. But haven’t had so many steps in my entire trip than getting out of that bloody station. Knackered. Then it turns out I was put in the sister hostel ‘around the corner.’ The Spanish don’t give good directions. Over an hour later I found it and was about to collapse from dehydration and muscle failure. After all, I was lugging around at least 30kg.

Recovered, I saw plenty of Valencia, had a nice day trip to Peniscola (yes, make the jokes if you must, everyone else was at the time) and got lost on our bike ride. Beautiful places they both are, easy to get around. But at Bunol, Tomatina was the big one. Couldn’t tell you how many people there were, I heard 30,000 somewhere. Pretty much in the middle of the packed main street until we got pushed up with the crowd onto level ground higher up. Ended up seeing more of an overview than getting pummelled. Except one un-squashed tomato that hit me square in the right eye from the balcony of a local 20m above. And then a wet t-shirt flung into it 30 seconds later. And then another tomato landing on my wrist as I covered my battered eye. I clearly needed to move. But actually a bit disappointed I didn’t have a black eye from it all. Plenty of tears, lost shoes, ripped clothes… absolutely nuts. Just lucky we weren’t in direct sun. While slightly disappointed I wasn’t covered in red (by the time we reached the street itself the hour had finished), I still had a great time. Going to send 7.425kg of stuff at the Post Office later was a highlight when the man knew I’d been to Tomatina because he pointed out a seed in my hair. Awesome. Our last night was a pretty messy pub crawl where I’d finally washed my hair (quote of the night: ‘It’s cleeeeean!!!’), plenty of dancing was done and drinks downed like they were going out of fashion.

More steps again lugging my crap (still not feeling lighter) down the Metro – got on the plane with the (mostly hot) Mallorcan/Baleares Islands soccer team Atletico Baleares and got to the island safe and sound after a clear highlight of my overall trip and a week I could, and will never, possibly forget…