Tenerife South: They Call Me Mellow Yellow

“Oop pardon me sweetie. HEY SHERRY MOVE! SHERRY! MOVE! BAHAHAHA SHE WANTS TO GET BACK IN,” the boisterous, shrill voice of the woman flapping at her friend standing in the aisle granted me just enough of a gap to squeeze by, hop across J’s lap and into my seat. My opinion of the gaggle of ladies next to us was torn. They had brought the party to the plane. I definitely admired their ability to drink, shriek and guffaw for the entire four hours of the flight, but their party hour exuberance was wearing thin. Continue reading “Tenerife South: They Call Me Mellow Yellow”