amy goes to rome, italy

So I'm guessing that some of y'all remember that around this time last year I went to Barcelona, Spain to celebrate my father's birthday. For this year, we decided to do the same kind of thing, but instead go to Rome, Italy (and not just because we've been watching a lot of Roman Holiday lately, promise). I've always wanted to go to Rome, and like most bucket-list-enthusiasts out there, the Colosseum has been on my top ten list of things to do before I die for a while. So you can imagine my joy at being told that I could finally tick that one off, as well as dining on authentic Italian cuisine, getting to try out a new language, and just exploring a new city for a while. Also, the euphoria of getting to stay in a hotel is still pretty darn strong. Also related, my last post gave y'all a mini guide on how to navigate this gorgeous city, so feel free to stalk.

amy goes to swansea; wales, + bath; england

First things first - I've been in this little space of the internet for four years now! That is so insane, I can't even. Four years... wow. It'd just finished being 2011 when Awkward Donkey started up, and now it's 2016 and I'm 17, not 12/13. Holy crap, guys. I just want to say thank you for everyone who's supported me over the (freakin' four!) years, your encouragement has led to this blog not dying in flames just a couple of months down the line. I've made some good blog friends, and I'm glad that this space has been kept positive and awesome by all 80,000 of you. I hope y'all continue to check out this little space and stay here for as long as you can c:

So, on a completely different topic, we adhere to what this post is actually about. 

To celebrate it being 17 years since I clambered into this world, my family and I went down to my hometown in Swansea, Wales. It was pretty awesome for the most part, and I got to see sights and people that I've been missing since my last visit. Naturally, I thought y'all would appreciate a spam.

amy goes to crete, greece; part two

Have y'all had a good month?

As I'm hoping you remember, a handful of months back I went to Crete, Greece, and took way too many photos than is probably considered healthy. And so, what could possibly be a better way to spam them on people than on this here blog? 

If you want to read more about me peeing in a hole in the ground, punching a guy in the face and watching the most badass pensioner ever overtake me on a black moped, then I think it's best for both of us if you stay tuned.

For part one, click here!

amy goes to crete, greece: part one

I promise I haven't died.

I want to say that I've been busy, but really I've just been procrastinating by doing exams and the like. You know its bad when you procrastinate by actually doing work - in my case, writing 1,500 word essays. I've tried to write this post a couple of times, but lost momentum halfway in. That was until today, when I was just innocently reading The Book Thief and overdosing on chocolate when a girl from my old school messaged me. "Omg", it said "I love your blog. I so wished I'd spoken to you whilst I went to school with you". And pfft, that didn't make me die inside at all, what. So basically, I now have an insane amount of pressure to write a half-decent post, so sorry if I don't deliver, all you Emily's out there*. 

Barcelona, Spain //

Oh hey hi there hello. It's Amy, remember me? Yeah, I used to blog here back in the old days. That was, hmm, two months ago? Only 2015 kids remember. So, just to get warmed up again. I'm going to re-introduce y'all to my blog with a quick post about my recent(ish) trip to Barcelona, Spain. I can almost feel your excitement flooding through my screen. Almost, not quite, but we're getting there.

Not too long ago, it was my Dad's birthday.  Our last holiday had been in August, with only little trips to Wales and the south of England to keep the wanderlust at bay - and wanderlust had hit both my mother and I pretty bad. So, as a "birthday present" to my father (although mainly for my mum and I because he prefers colder climates) we booked a weekend away in Barcelona. Hopefully, by now you all know the story about my parents meeting in Tenerife, a small Spanish island, and my near miss at being an official-born Spaniard, and if you don't, well frankly you should pay more attention. Gosh. 

When I went away to Barcelona, I decided to take notes on a small notebook that I carried around with me, so that when I got home I could organise them into something I could comprehend. However, guess who didn't do that until everything had been forgotten? I'm  currently left with notes saying, I quote, "security, vodka, battle (flaus), windows less time than No Tears, 20 mins?!" So let's see how much I can distinguish out of those.