FART ON... AND YOU'LL NEVER FART ALONE

Ah! This is the life! Somehow an all-day trip to an outdoor pool didn’t leave me scalded like the bejaysus; probably `cause I spent the maximum amount of time hiding from the big bad sun under a palm tree. So I had a great time soaking up some lovely shade, avoiding the spray of vitamin D, and opted to soak up some glorious chlorine instead.
The next day it was back to the beach, where I took great pleasure in introducing to Addy a new English word: “Jellyfish”. Addy then introduced me to a strange Valencian drink called an “Horchata”, which was a weird yoke with milk and chufa (whatever that is), it was soft, smooth, and sweet like the bejaysus: so much so that I felt my teeth disintegrate as I sipped it. You had to eat it with something called a “farton”; Addy’s instruction that I must “farton” the Horchato could have resulted in an enormously hilarious yet embarrassing moment, yet thankfully I did realise that “farton” was, in fact, not a serving suggesting. Mind you, it may have given the flavour an added earthiness, which may have been quite pleasant.