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| My view. The Hotel owns the bull ring too I was told. |
Some food has arrived. I ordered speciality soup, I appear to have 2 side dishes of bread and meat. I am not sure if I should eat it now or wait for the soup. Since I am the only one in the restaurent, I can't copy anyone. I wait.
Earlier tonight I took a walk round this small town. Lots of small streets. I thought I found the way back, but was recognising less and less. So I asked in my best Spanish "Place Toros? Directiona?". I understood none of the answer, but the waiving arms told me I was walking up the wrong side of the valley. I retraced my steps and finally found the hotel again.
"Restaurant open?" I asked. "Si" but I was the only one. When you are the only one and you hear the microwave Ping, you can be sure who it is for.
The soup arrived. "For the soup?" I asked pointing to the side dishes. "No" she said pulling a face, "for vino". She went into the kitchen only to return 5 seconds later and say "for soupa" in the most complete and unapologetic turn a round I have ever seen.
The next dish was 1/2 a partridge. With chips and salad. To my surprise, the meat was cold*. And by the way, it is hard to see partridge bones among the same coloured flesh. "Good?" She asked appearing from another direction and using one of the few English words in her vocabulary. "Yes", I said, "very interesting". She looked happy with that. Perhaps the kebab house tomorrow? The desert was "cake of cheese". It turned out to be roughly what I hoped for.
"Tomorrow closed", she announced with the coffee. Kebabs it is then!
Cordialement
Terry
Envoyé de mon iPhone
* Cold partridge in vinegar is a local delicacy, I was told, on account of the numerous birds to be found among the olive plantations (and perhaps due to the quality of the local wine?).
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