This year marks my last chance to make the most of half-price train tickets offered by the Spanish government for travel around the country, and Sara certainly wasn’t going to let the opportunity pass us by. After some very last-minute planning, the two of us headed off on together a bullet train bound for Alicante to spend a weekend away on the coast.

Our hotel turned out to be rather fancy, smack in the middle of the old town and five minutes from the beach where we’d eventually spend an afternoon burning ourselves in the sun after failing to put our newly purchased parasol to use. Sara’s insistence on the benefits of beach life wasn’t entirely a lie: I did enjoy the lukewarm water of the Mediterranean and the disconnection of leaving my phone at the hotel. I didn’t love the extra crunch that the sand added to our lunch.

In better culinary experiences, and as we were in the Valencian Community, we made sure to gorge on all the delicious fresh rice and seafood. Breakfasts consisted of fartons (sweet bread sticks) dipped in horchata (a sweet drink made with tiger nuts). We spent our days people watching as we wandered around the city, and spent our evenings in various cocktail bars by the port. Sara got a taste of the British tourist experience, in which I was constantly approached by waiters and various salespeople offering me boat rides, city tours, and “authentic” paella. I think she found it quite funny.

Sara was a dream travel companion. After suggesting we make the trip in the first place, she never tired of investigating the best spots to eat, drink, and visit. My sole contribution to the organisation was to book the lift up to the Santa Bárbara Castle on the first night, necessary as my dodgy leg still wasn’t up to the trek up the hill on which it sits. We headed up to see the sunset, an idea suggested by my colleague Rebecca and which made for a lovely welcome to the city.

I’d still have plenty of walking to do, though, as on the last day we scaled the heights of the old town to visit a neighbourhood whose streets were as pretty as they were deathly steep. I eventually made it, thanks in no small part to the energy provided by some iced tea, a cheeky beer, and a stop for a chat with an old Australian couple who were, rather embarrassingly, scaling the steps much faster than we were.

Suffice to say that I had an absolutely wonderful time in Alicante. Although we crammed in an impressive amount of stuff, the 48 hours flew by. Sara isn’t only a dab hand at organising, she’s also a dear friend who’s as talkative as I am: I don’t think we stopped for breath the whole weekend we were together!

I’ll be back to Alicante, and I’ll certainly be travelling with Sara again.