Luton Airport at 4 am - heaving with people, kids, pets, mostly people! I'm on my way to Spain again, staying with a bestie who I haven't seen since just before Lockdown.  I'm shocked the airport is so busy! All I can think about is how British summer slowly degenerated (as Wimbledon began)! Friends are posting temperatures from Spain in the Forties - have I done the right thing? The usual degradation at the airport.  I have no jewellery but I go bleep so I have to get in the cancer-causing machine that looks like a tardis, arms in the air, like I'm  under arrest. Take off my shoes.  Oh fuck you bastards, can it never be easy or even a pleasant experience? It's almost like, you are being punished for travelling.  Of course, ***Jet has also changed my seat without informing me (which I fucking paid for). Well, I've finally arrived and I am relieved we have a backyard plunge pool. It's dry but the mountains are cooling us a little.  Summer time in Andalucia - I'll post a pic for you but I won't tell you where I am.  Large glass of wine 2 Euros! The tapas at the local bars are fabuloso - paprika prawns on sticks, mussels, marinated anchovies, fab cheeses melted with tomatoes, served with crusty bread. The difference between here and Cyprus is the colour - huge eucalyptus trees, green-ness, the streets have no rubbish and everybody says good day or hello.  So, where are you this summer, comments welcomed and many thanks if you read this, I hope you smiled.