Exactly a year ago I was driving home from Stansted having flown back from Ibiza the morning after the best day of my life and a long lunch at one of the happiest places in the world, The Blue Marlin.
My birthday lunch last year involved 9 hours; a white sandy beach; 1 fabulous handsome and charming waiter, Carlos; 5 luscious women; a single petrified geezer; several magnums of Provence Rose and ice-cold Albarino and an obscene quantity of the most delicious strawberry cocktails. Read the rest of this entry