Sangria @ Hotel Wonderland

Cherry Cola was poured into a pink, plastic cup. A straw sat lopped over one side while a lemon floated beside large, clinking ice-cubes.

Rhonda, from a car insurance ad was my muse. I was determined to be one of those sun soaked girls that politely crossed over their bronze legs, and lowered their sunnies for the occasional foreign man.

Reality was kinder.

I was way too fat to be wearing a bikini but no one I knew was here. Check.

I had a hot barman that did that wink thing as he gave you a drink. Scenery. Check.

And I had conveniently “forgotten” my phone at home so work couldn’t contact me. I sipped more of my drink. Ahhh… and check.

It was shaping up all rather nicely. Well, that was until my arm was cut off by coral and a shark swallowed me whole!

Obviously that didn’t happen. Nothing did. I was by myself. On holiday. It was so quiet. I could hear my own thoughts. Suddenly there was a whole other person I had barely talked to, a stranger, and it was myself!

Then I looked down, took a sip of…cherry cola. I laughed to myself, ordered something alcoholic, and I’m sure I had a great time, whatever I did for the next five days. It was great.

And I went back every year to detox and be at one with myself and some island sangria.

That was a magical time and the name of my hotel. It was called Wonderland.


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