A little tardiness on the blog front as I took myself to Ibiza (again) for the last of the summer wine. Or last of the summer hierbas as the case may be.

Sunning ourselves at El Chiringuito a vision approached our cluster of loungers. A mirage of sorts. Well for me anyway, beach mirages for other people are probably the man/woman of their fantasies wearing very little. For me a beach mirage goes a little something like this…I am hungry, a ruggedly handsome man in a Breton top accessorised by a beautiful leather holster comes toward me holding a pail of oysters on ice. Think more Hermes holster than tequila shot holster and you get the idea. Freshly shucked bliss…

Love the chainmail shucking glove with his silver bracelet. How gorgeous is the leather holster? Ah the details…

Would madam like the shallot vinaigrette? The green or red tabasco, the lemon juice? Everything?