Make friends, make friends
…never never break friends
It began six months ago. Five of my oldest friends. Several glasses of wine and a determination to celebrate our last year in our thirties in style – in the sun. A plan was formed. A weekend was set and the flights were booked.
At 4.30am on Thursday, the girls arrived to pick me up for a stupid o’clock flight. As I left the house, I heard from inside the car; ‘Bloody hell who brought Paloma Faith’ (a comment about my lovely hat) and so the weekend had begun.
We arrived at the airport, checked in and boarded the plane to take us to the sun. The plane was full of groups of girls, women, hens, stags, boys, very few men, each and everyone looking forward to seeing that rare sighting – rarer than hen’s teeth in the UK – the sun.
On the plane, we plugged in iPhones, opened kindles, read pages and barely uttered a word – all around us people were catching up. We ignored each other. It was just perfect. Each of us content in each other’s silence as we made the transition from mum to me.
We arrived at our villa, marvelled at the bedrooms, argued over the master suite and gazed longingly at the pool. Within minutes cases were abandoned, phones were laid down and bikinis, tankinis and burkinis (me) were found, bemoaned and adorned.
Then it started. The laughter. We chattered, gossiped and reminisced over our past, caught up on latest goings-on, shared our angst, our worries and our nonsense – which even included whether the blades of grass were thicker in Spain than the UK.
And then we laughed some more and ridiculed each other – I even snorted beer down my nose. It was one of my more classy moments in Marbs.
These girls have been part of my life for over two decades – we’ve been through break-ups, make-ups (and that’s just us girls) boyfriends, husbands, marriages, divorces, children, illness, grief, loss and laughter. At the heart of it are six girls that met through school, clubbing and parties – and in Marbs we were those girls again, friends to the end.
The thing about friendship – true friendship – is that it just exists.
In silence on a plane. In shared cocktails at a beach bar. During a three hour Mad Dogs styli walk in the burning heat of the midday sun to find a supermarket. Even when one of your oldest friends storms in a takes a picture of you in the shower (of course I hadn’t locked the door, why would I?) A picture I might add that will never see the light of day – mainly due to the fact that I got my revenge shot the following day. Nothing is sacred.
The weekend ended with a delay at the airport. Seven hours and several bottles of champagne later we finally made a flight out of Marbs.
And once again I was reminded about the power of friendship. I realised how lucky I am as my friends at home rallied round and sorted my small things. In an instant. In a blink of a eye – and then told me to go and drink more champagne – which of course I did.
I know two things.
This time next year we will be back in Marbella drinking in the sunshine.
My friends are blinkin important to me and I salute you.
Well actually three things:
Cocktails on the beach in the sun are just the best thing ever.
(except for good friends of course).
*This blog is dedicated to my beautiful friends.