Barbecued Writer

I came back from the barbecue looking rather pink in places. Obviously I should have used suncream. And then, like a twit, I sat on the balcony for about twenty minutes next morning, enjoying the view and a cup of tea, without cream again. It didn't look bad.

At least I had the sense to wear suncream when I went out to photograph the crosses. (See the blog about La Palma) But it was too little, too late, and by the time I went to see my friend Farida, I was a glorious shade of tomato.

Poor Farida was busy talking to a builder about finishing the job another builder had started and then abandoned halfway through, leaving a right bl**** mess in the house. By the time we'd actually had a chat, it was time to meet Norma in Los Cancajos for a drink and a walk.

The idea was to lose weight, but the Swiss cake shop was open, so I wound up sabotaging our efforts at a healthy lifestyle, in the nicest possible way. We did have a walk as well, but I'm sure we ate a lot more calories than we burned.