Spain and The Hunger Games

At the end of May I went to Spain and I discovered The Hunger Games.

My memories of the full week we spent on the Spanish coast are so entwined with the obsession I had for The Hunger Games that it’s difficult for me to be 100% confident whether we spent each day lazing at the beach drinking gin or whether, actually, at various points we were embroiled in a giant war where my expert archery skills allowed me to shoot deer to feed my cake-baking lover Peeta. It’s all a bit hazy.


We spent the week between Valencia, Alicante and a sweet little town named Denia, which is the port to go to-and-from Ibiza. It was a town of absolute contrast: boarded up hostels on the beach front as well as fancy Michelin starred restaurants. Things were amazingly cheap, the people were super friendly and the beaches were clean and wonderful (and you could order diet cokes from your deck chairs, which meant The Hunger Games was never far away) Win.

keeping watch for The Hunger Game-style attacks. Can't trust those careers.

Oh hai sun-worshipping Valencians, i hope my spray tan has fooled you into thinking i am one of you.

Katniss in Alicante. 

a sandcastle worthy of Katniss.

Katniss on the grass.

Katniss by the pool.

It was so so lovely to be in salt water again, eat cured meat and cheese every afternoon and drink lots of gin in the sun. The fact that I survived TWO hunger games and a civil war with my archery skills was also pretty sweet.