For me, it was The Frenchies who ruined my proposal.
At the time, I didn’t know my fun-loving French friends just stuffed up my partner’s perfect pop-the-question spot. But apparently, they did.
We were in Santorini, sipping Veuve on the balcony of our apartment and soaking up the magnificent view.
We were on the holiday of a lifetime which was about to wrap-up. I had no idea my partner Iain had something extra in his hand luggage, an engagement ring and a plan to propose in Santorini on our balcony.
He’d carted this bling around for the last three weeks and brewed this plan for months.
The moment had arrived (much to his relief) and we were casually sipping champagne on the balcony and only just saying how perfect the holiday had been.
Just as he was about to get down on one knee, The Frenchies next door came home. We’d made friends with our neighbours who didn’t speak a lick of English. We didn’t speak French either so we seemed to communicate via sign language and facial expressions. It was working, they were a hoot.
So much of a hoot that they spotted us on the shared balcony and thought they’d park up right next to us and have a drink too.
I thought ‘how fun’! Meantime another word starting with ‘F’ crossed Iain’s mind.
