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Palermo, Sicily and a (teeny) little bit of news

Well. That backlog of blogs hasn't seemed to resolve itself, much to my disappointment. I blame Breaking Bad

Aaaaaaanyway, after the disappointment of having to miss out on R&B's wedding in Jamaica this year, the CG and I decided that a mini break was still much needed, and opted for something a little cheaper and closer to home: Sicily. 


We started dubbing our upcoming trip the "baby-making holiday" - mainly because it meant mum stopped nagging me about when we were going to get serious about legitimising her baby bootie knitting operation, but also because it really was the first time we (ok, I) was willing to start considering potential procreation i.e. once my main girls holidays were out of the way, on the understanding that it would likely take a while to successfully magic one up, and because I could no longer really escape the fact that I am officially in my mid 30's and will never finish doing everything I want to do before I have to stop being selfish and only thinking about myself.


So imagine my surprise when I landed home after Russia to discover that I was already pregnant! CG super sperm. Yikes. 

After recovering from my shock, which went something along the lines of:
Me, nearing hysteria: "But...but...BUT I never even had a last rare steak! Or sushi!" 
CG, rolling eyes: "You're not dying. It's nine months. You'll survive."
I've actually been super excited. I didn't even know I wanted a baby so much until it turned out I was having one.


The thing with baby making is that, I swear, you never meet anyone who took a reasonable amount of time to fall pregnant. Say, 3 to 6 months. It either just happens, or takes forever. And let me tell you, I cannot believe how lucky we were. To not have the stress of trying and for it to become a point of worry for us.


Not to say there haven't been stresses. A miscarriage scare, worries about the impact of me, er, living the "high life" while the baby was forming, general weird body things I had no idea were part of being pregnant....it's certainly an eye opener. But when the CG and I dissolve into a fit of laughter plotting all the evil things we're (ok, I'm) going to do to the baby (firstly - watermelon pants, secondly - drawn on moustaches, thirdly - using the poor kid as a pawn in my campaign against a piece of my mother's wall art) all my stresses melt away.


We landed in Palermo to warm weather and for the first time in a long while, on our own. Nothing but wandering the streets, feasting, and napping. Is there anything more a pregnant lady could ask for?

Balneario Illetas, Mallorca

Balneario Illetas is a long time beach club nestled on the South coast of Mallorca. It's deck chairs, terrace, bar and restaurant are heaving with tanned bodies in the summer months, particularly during the day.


They kindly invited us to dine in the restaurant while we were in town, so Ms K and I happily headed over to enjoy our last meal of the holiday *sob*.


We opted for a cold and hot starter: the lobster, prawn and crab were perfectly fresh and firm to the bite while the Iberian ham croquettes melted in the mouth. Portion sizes were extremely generous, clearly made for sharing.


The charming, handsome, witty, knowledgable Nicolas (pretty sure that was everything he wanted me to mention) was on hand to ensure we received impeccable service and hot serves of delicious paella. 


Eavesdropping on the wait staff, we actually heard one of them advising the table next to us that they were possibly ordering too much. I really appreciate this honest approach: I've only experienced it once before in Argentina where we were strongly advised not to order a steak each but to share (luckily, as it turned out a standard steak was a hefty 750g). Restaurants really don't have to save you any money by letting you order whatever catches your eye, so it's nice when they bother to give you the choice whether to over order or not.


Our impressive seafood skewer was also cooked to perfection - I'm always a little hesitant with white fish fillets not served whole as they can so easily be dry, but rest assured these beauties most definitely were not.


The pièce de résistance was definitely dessert. Which we - crazily - nearly didn't have as we were already so full. Sure, we would never have known what we missed. But boy, would we have made a BIG mistake. Best banoffee pie I've had in the last decade. At least.


So much for being too full for dessert.


A brilliant end to our girls holiday.

Mallorca part 2: relaxing

The quest for the perfect selfie continued.


To the point where we started just taking the pee out of the whole thing. Let's just say I'm resigned to being a food photographer.


We did nothing but eat and relax for the rest of our time in Mallorca. On our final full day, we headed across the island to St Elm.


The water was soothingly cool on our hot skin, and sparklingly clear. The streets were so quaint and quiet we could feel ourselves melting into a perfect puddle of holiday chilled. A holiday apartment in a place like St Elm would do me just fine, thank you very much.


This grilled squid from 9 was the best thing I ate all trip (and I ate a lot of good things) - perfectly cooked, seasoned, and so fresh it was practically begging me to devour it. Bliss.


Total bliss.

Tahini, Puerto Portals, Mallorca

I'm in a weird holding pattern. Next week is becoming this "BIG WEEK" in my mind, from both a work and personal perspective, and I can't wait for it to get here. As a firm believer of not wishing your life away, this attitude of mine is really grating on me - because I can't stop wishing it was Monday already. First world problems.

Aaah, yes. I remember the days of Mallorca with Ms K where the hardest thing I had to do was decide where to eat. I wasn't wishing anything away then.


The problem with loving Japanese as much as I do, is that a sub-standard experience can send me into a spiral of despair at having wasted a meal. And Japanese abroad is always fraught with danger. Unless you're in Japan, obviously. Thankfully Tahini served me well, and a happy little me was not only suitably sated, but got to sit at the bar watching the skilled sushi chefs at work up close.


If only I wasn't a complete freak about kitchen smells and greasiness, a deep fryer would be very handy for a little tempura action at home. Alas. It will never be.


If you're near Puerto Portals in Mallorca, go. Totally worth it, and one of the best posh restaurants for basic Japanese dishes I've been to.


Look how happy we are! Doesn't that just make you want to go?