La vida de Annie

By Annie

Desigual

My favourite designer clothes store, this one in Barcelona airport terminal 1, while waiting 4 hours for the connecting flight to Mahon. I daren't even go in, lest I see something irresistible; just try to take advantage of the sales when they're on. The flight there was pretty trying, not because there was a stroppy nasty old cow of a woman this time, but because the seat directly in front was occupied by a shrieking young child who constantly informed the world he was bored, the plane looked likely to crash, or offered a selection of C carols - actually one carol, just the one line, just the two words, Jingle Bells, over and over ad nauseam. He also enjoyed rocking back into his seat hard enough to spill my hot chocolate and knock my kindle to the floor a few times. Desembarked with a rip-roaring headache which continued for the rest of the day. When I finally got back after nearly 12 hours of travel, I discovered I've also developed a real stinker of a cold. Good to be back though.

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