Turning 60

Holy fuck, how can I possibly be 60? I don't feel 60, I don't think I look 60 (said every 60 year old women everywhere), and yet here we are.

The day itself was different in that I was on tour, so officially working. The festivities began the night before (in Sevilla) when a group of us finished dinner and headed out for a night cap. I could say I'm easily lead astray, but in this case, I was the (tour) leader. Back at the hotel, someone decided it was a good idea for a pre birthday rendition of happy birthday - right outside some poor guests room. Not impressed was the look she gave us when the door opened. After much shushing, I got everyone off to their rooms - never an easy feat at this particular hotel, and managed to get myself off to bed. 

The morning dawned with the usual breakfast and the need to carry balloons pronouncing that yes, I was now 60. Onto the bus and off to say hello to my piggies. They were as always happy to see me - or at least happy to see that I had carrots. This group are rather frisky and have discovered the delights of getting back and belly rubs. Not much coaxing and the next thing you know you have a 100kg pig lying on your foot. The visit went as usual - I continue to struggle with the concept of piggies = jamon, but really I'm just a hypocrite as I continue to eat the jamon. 

Our next stop was our beautiful convent in Aracena. They gave me a suite which was rather nice, although  an upstairs sitting room, dressing room, 2 TV's and more space was not really put to good use. In fact, the dressing room only served to confuse me when I got up in the middle of the night and couldn't work out why there were hangers in the bathroom. But no, I didn't proceed to pee in the wardrobe.

After the usual running around Aracena with cave visits, I sat and had a lovely glass of wine waiting for the intrepid cavers. Then it was back to the hotel for pre-dinner drinks - lovely. My fabulous group, as well as the balloons, gave me a huge fan, chocolates, a card and a Corte Ingles gift voucher. Very generous. 

I'd made a booking at Sirlache so off we went and feasted on whatever the chef decided to give us on the night. The offerings are always delicious and all washed down with plenty of wine. And then chupitos. 

Back at the hotel, the call for one for the road was made. Which makes no sense because we were 'home' and there was no road required. But Jo, Catherine and I headed off to the bar for 1 last red wine where we came upon a group already propping up the bar. And of course the balloons were a bit of a giveaway that it may have been my birthday. After a quick wait right here, one lovely chap dashed off (ooh maybe he'll return with a lovely bottle of bubbles) and returned with......a piano accordion. A rousing rendition of happy birthday was quickly bestowed upon me and all of a sudden we had 12 new Irish friends. Yes, this long time Irish walking group were settling in for the evening and in fine form. There was even a version of Waltzing Mathilda for us Aussie girls. I took pity on the poor girl behind the bar who was clearly not used to this much merriment and we bade goodnight and suggested that we may be disturbing sleeping guests. The good thing about oldies, is by that time most had taken out their hearing aids and were fast asleep. Just kidding, I am now one of these oldies and many of them have way more energy than me. Luckily, my super luxurious suite was far enough away and I couldn't hear even a single note of the piano accordion.

The next morning feeling slightly under the weather and grateful that I had not peed in the walk in wardrobe, it was time to hit the road. Whilst we were all getting ready to jump aboard our bus, the Irish walking group were dressed and ready to hit the trails, walking poles in hand. Impressive. I need to join an Irish walking group. They clearly have a lot of fun. 

I felt very fortunate that I was able to share my day with a fabulous group of guests who were lots of fun. Definitely one of the best groups that I've had the pleasure of taking around Spain and although family and friends were far away, I still had a wonderful day. The birthday celebrations did continue when I got back to the UK, big thanks to the Soton gang for a fabulous weekend away near Chichester - I'll cover that another day.  

And just like that, I was 60. Not overly painful. I still feel 59.