Aphrobite

The mosquitoes don't strike often, but when they do it's hard. As I inspected how my beach bod was developing this morning, I realised I looked like I'd been punched.

Well, at least the mosquitoes touch me. On hols with friends Alex would plot strategic hugs for me so I felt loved enough to limit my unfortunate visits to Czech doctors.

Here, surrounded by loving families I am feeling a little lonely. I kept hearing this word "quieron", and wondered what it meant. It is never used on me and I was curious why. Oh, it means "my love". Well, not for me.
Cristobal has started giving me a playful slap on the neck as the children get, when we leave wet towels on the floor or don't finish our dinners. Ouch. But I don't get any of the loud smacking skin kisses that any child in range of an adult acquaintance gets.

Oh well, I shall carry on attempting to nestle into the crooks of waitor's arms as they pass me my fatty meat, and cuddling a 2L waterbottle at night (it's very hot here did I mention) pretending I'm camping next to Bob or Chaz's icy cheeks. So refreshing.