At ten o'clock in the morning, a text message comes in. Our friends with whom we have a lunch appointment. Whether we want paella or salted fish for lunch. ’Isn't that a bit early?‘ I ask. No, because it is being caught for us right now. I'm convinced. Even before the wheels of the car drive onto the gravel path leading to the bay of Es Torrent.

The tables are set with linen, the sunbeds are empty, and the fresh fish are proudly displayed in the showcase. There is still a Spanish family, a top model who lies on a sunbed all day wearing socks and a woolen vest (it's 23 degrees), alternating between sleeping and smoking. Eating was not on her menu today, and judging by her frail little body, it wasn't yesterday either.

We fill the table with twelve, but since children have a concentration span of two minutes in restaurants, we soon end up with just six. Three one-and-a-half-liter bottles are ordered. That seems like a lot, but that's one bottle per person, and considering that we spent from 1:30 PM to 6:30 PM, it's almost little to mention. The children run around on the beach, doing useful things like dragging stones and occasionally come to beg for ice cream. I don't know if life is meant to be this way, but vacations certainly are.

The next day it was time for a much-needed shopping session. Sluiz is the perfect place for inspiration, fun gifts, craziness for the kids, a fresh smoothie (today pineapple, apple, and lime, perfect after yesterday's Magnum grape juice), and also a lot of nice clothes. I left the house with a skirt that Carrie would drool over and three large starfish. Because I can't help it, and no matter how much I travel, there is always an enormous tourist living inside me.

Tonight we are going to a new bistro in the square of Santa Gertrudis. You know, the village where all the nice Dutch people live (type Casper Reinders). Think running children, swirly skirts, many women with small braids, and undoubtedly liters of wine again...