The different culture element, particularly experiencing the cuisine, architecture, local customs etc has always been a major factor for me. But every once in a while, a culture-free holiday is A-OK.
Like now, at 23-weeks pregnant. Desperate to leave the country for one last time without a mini-me in tow, consuming culture was not high on my agenda. Consuming ice cream while sitting in the sun however, was. So off we went to the Costa Blanca in Spain, where Adam's dad has an apartment and we've been before for family gatherings. (And the only destination we could afford in half-term price-hike hell.) Better still, the familiarity and non-romanticism of the ex-pat commune completely eradicated the possibility that the trip could be referred to as a 'babymoon'. Yeerrrruuuuuucckkckckkk.
The trip consisted of a road-trip to Valencia (to stock up on tomatoes, bread, cheese and oils from the incredible market), and then a few days of reading on the roof terrace and lying on the beach.
It turns out that if you avoid the local Irish bar and chippie, it's possible to make even the most tourist-infested stretch of Spanish coast a haven. Spending five nights out of the country eating fresh market food and not thinking about the impending stress of home improvements, parenthood and probable bankruptcy = bliss. Here's to the Costa Blanca, from Alicante to Benidorm and beyond. It is what you make of it.
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