Sunday lunch

After church, an invite to join several people at the local restaurant. It is better than eating alone and provided French and English conversation. Now a young lady had introduced me to an app for my iPhone that takes lots of pictures and stitches them together to form a wide view (or high if you want). So for fun here is the whole table (bar me) in one view.

But it is not perfect. Spot the Picasso-like lady (2 faces), the girl with 2 right ears, and the person sporting a jacket that just cannot be over her forehead.

Still it was fun.

The waiter (standing right of picture) spotted we were from the church up the road. Because we are noisy? I asked. No, he replied, because of the smiles. Well that can't be bad.

Malaga

I had proposed to walk up the hill. There is more than one, I took the easy route. Here are a couple of views.

You could go higher but I chose the wrong route so I didn't.

Afterwards I found the nice restaurant I had used before. I recall Hina likes photos of food, so here is one for her.

Wrapped in a sort of pastry. Very good at €5.

Chicken flambé with brandy, diced "chorizo", onion and cane treacle.

I needed fast food and I had eaten here last visit (but in the evening). According to the waiter, all the good came quickly. Well that was not quite the  case, but I had exaggerated my need, and the delay encouraged the thought that the dish was freshly cooked. 

Indeed, after I had tucked this away I had time for a desert too. But there is a limit to the photos I will take.


Terry
Envoyé de mon iPhone

A little tour ...

... on 2 wheels.

I have often wondered what it is like to balance on a "Sedge-way" so when I found I had the morning free in Malaga, and there were these things for hire, I took my chance.

But they were not going to let me just drive off on my own. It was an accompanied "tour" and since time was limited I  booked the 20 minute one. After a brief lesson, and the compulsory hard hat, we were off along the harbour walk.

A stop for a photo-call, with permit to remove the hat.

The contraption requires you to fall forward to go, and backward to stop (but not too long because reverse works this way too). The bar does not turn but goes left or right and has an effect even at a standstill.

After this photo, my guide increased the limit speed from 12 to 20 mph (it's American). That was a lot better as before it was like trying to go slow when skiing - much harder.

All too soon it was over. Is it costly to own one? $8000 I was told, or $5000 in the USA. There are no Chinese copies yet, but at that price it can't be long.

En Déplacement

The dining room before it filled up.

I suppose many people who travel for work see places from the point of view of hotels and restaurants. It certainly is that way this week for me except that my plane does not go until the afternoon tomorrow so that I can play the tourist for the morning at least.

Having traveled down com Martos to Malaga (2 1/2 hrs) I elected to eat at the hotel restaurant. It has the benefit of being able to chose from the menu in my bedroom but when I went downstairs I found I was too early. Fortunately I had bought a days internet so I attended a lecture on the influence of Peter the Great ("they all called themselves Great" I was informed).

After the appointed time I descended to find several families already installed at tables. I spotted a lady holding a notepad and asked for a table for one. She put me on the only small table which was by the window and under the air conditioning - most invigorating.

I have started to notice that Spanish ladies often have generous body parts for sitting on. The waitress was no exception, the trousers of her black uniform only emphasising her ability. She had the air of someone who coped rather than excelled.

Since I had already chosen, I checked the menu I was given to be sure it was the same, and then placed it on the table to indicate I was ready to order. After a considerable while the notebook appeared at my side. I ordered the fritters to start, described as "delicious" in the menu translation which also said there would be 6 of them. I remember counting food items as a child - to be fair!- so I supposed this information was for the families present. To follow I ordered the swordfish.

And a glass of red to drink, I requested. Glass or bottle? She asked so I plumped for the glass but I asked if they had a carafe? After a bit of explaining, her frown brightened and she smiled clearly showing she had understood. No, she said happily, and we agreed again for a glass.

A bottle of something was soon produced with a glass swiped from another table 'en route'. It was generous enough and was quickly followed by the fritters. I was just tucking into my 4th fritter when a plate of swordfish arrived on my right. The smell of fish contrasted strongly with the ham and cheese of my fritters making the last 2 less delicious. I recalled that the hotel rejoices in the name of "Holiday Inn Express".

The swordfish was all right. I decided the oil must be part of Spanish cuisine and not just the restaurant at Martos. Maybe it is a contributor to the sitting ability I have begun to notice but something told me not to try and find out from the waitress.

By now the restaurant had filled up considerably. With only 1 lady on duty, there was now a long wait for my desert (occasion for much of this report) and contradicting my earlier assumption of the reason for the name "Express". The waitress is taking payments now and being paged by another man who she ignores, and now she is serving some newcomers. Clearly a busy life.

So I will leave you to guess what desert I chose and if I ever got one, and I will publish this now. I have the feeling my tapping may be delaying things. Both my meal plates are still on the table.

Postscript:

The deserts offered were either cheesecake or chocolate pancake. I plumped for the former. I gave up waiting for coffee when I recalled there was a kettle in my room. I stopped tapping but the service was unchanged. The waitress added the bill to my room number and smiled at me knowing I was obviously satisfied.

Of course I was.

Iberian Secrets

Do you want to know a secret?
It can be exciting to discover something new and secrets inspire curiosity. So the title "iberian secret" made me wonder. The menu at the small restaurant here at Martos can be quite uninformative and this was just such an example.
I had photographed the menu, the sole example of which is posted next to the door, and had sat down to decode some of the entries. Rather than look up every word, I choose a menu item and try and confirm what look like key words. The Spanish words I know are unhelpful in enquiring about these things. Hello. Yes. Good bye. Thank you.
I had started on a longish phrase in the starter section when the waitress turned up. She deposited an open bottle of coke with a glass and ice that she knew I would order and looked expectantly for my decision. So far I had discovered " hollow of hump" which was as helpful as "Iberian secret". But I plumped for it by pointing at my photographed menu ( much to her amusement) and found she had added the "secret" as my second course. It is one thing to ask what the secret is, and quite another to ask in a way that was going to produce something I had to eat.
I returned to my choice of first course and translated the last 2 words. "With fried egg".
In far too short a time for fresh produce to be cooked, the first dish arrived. The hollow hump turned out to be thin slices of meat, quite tasty and requiring salt that was deposited for my use beside the plate. The fried egg was to one side. The salt turned out to be useful in soaking up the grease that characterises the cuisine in this establishment.
Once finished and the plate was removed and shortly replaced by Iberia's secret. So here it is as a picture.

As far as I am concerned, Iberia's secret is still safe. Perhaps it is that the meat looked thick but was so thin it had curled up under the ends to make the illusion. But whatever it was, it was tasty enough and the bread mopped up the grease from this course.
Just to complete the picture of my culinary adventures for you, the desert is not written but related by the waitress at lightning speed; perhaps to inspire a flash of inspiration? I recognised a word that sounded like 'flan' and pounced on it even as I remembered that this choice was anything but flan-like when I had chosen it before. I said "si" to the option offered and received a caramel pudding on a hard base (or that had gone hard round the edges with time) and, presumably, with the optional cream round it.
The coffee was placed in front of me as she asked "café?" so that was a done deal, and my adventure of the day was thus closed. I added all the sugar provided to make it drinkable and paid the fixed price fee.
So do you know what the Iberian secret is? If you do, do please tell me what i just ate! Thank you.

Terry

No where to sit

Sometimes people have no where to sit. That does not appear to have troubled this man who I spotted on the way back from my Sunday restaurant. There is usually something interesting on this corner. How long he can keep this up I am not sure, but he appeared to be quite at ease.

Clare told me of a similar stunt outside the Tate in London. Someone with both feet off the ground at once. Well I have now spotted a similar thing but I took a picture for you....

I think the owl is the key to the secret here.

Railways

Boys like trains. I did anyway. So to use the train every day should be interesting. At the moment I am trying to work out how the hinges work on the points, but there are none in the station and the train passes the others on route far too quickly. Still it can be a harmless pass-time on the way to work.
The other day my train was cancelled. Whilst I was waiting for the alternative I noticed some loading going on. I went closer to take a look, I had always wondered how they transferred the contents of the goods trains to other places - by road it seems.

A white loader fills a red truck. And a man bangs the underside when needed!

 The train I wanted arrived silently behind me and stopped short on the platform. I turned round just in time to run and catch the first coach.
So when I needed to get the TGV (Train Grande Vitesse - fast intercity train) I made sure I was in good time. The TGV station is the other side of the station I normally use but it takes 5 minutes to walk across the bridge. Mindful of needing to be on the right coach I looked at the platform and decided I could be a long way away, so I asked someone and she at least pointed me to the correct end. In the event I was 3 coaches out, which involved a walk in the train but it could have been worse.

Wide angle view of a straight platform. It is underground and very long to take a very long train.

On the way back, there was a train guide. I chose my spot on the platform. Once aboard, the high speed train is very smooth and after the first stop (mine was the second) it smoothly came to a halt in the middle of nowhere. The driver announced a breakdown - of the train in front! We waited. "Thank you for your patience and understanding". It's a phrase I hear a lot on the trains and metros. When we did go, it was to follow the train ahead which was limping along at 60km/hr, half speed. I arrived home 90 minutes late. I am glad it was on the way back, not on the way out!

Driving

Getting the address changed on your "permis de conduir" (driving licence) can be tricky. It takes a visit to your nearest "préfecture de police". You need the right documents too, so when I found my nearest station was 50 minutes away I prepared before I left. 

- driving licence 

- passport for ID

- gas bill as proof of residence

- check book, although I believe the service is free

- route plan. 

So off I set. Train. Bus. And a 9 minute walk to the cop-shop. 

The village was inside "outer Paris" but it did not feel like it. The streets were wide and the houses stone-built. It looked like the village had been absorbed by Paris as it grew and expanded, but that it had refused to modernise. And I can prove it. The photo below is of the police chase cars. Even non-experts can see that these are well overdue for an update. 

And the address change?

Well the préfecture de police was closed. It is Saturday after all. 

Cordialement 

Terry

Envoyé de mon iPhone

Sauce

Well if I am going to learn to cook, I have to do more than heat pizza. True, chilli and spaghetti have surfaced, and today's offering hardly qualifies me as a "chef". But I bought some ravioli partly to make me make a sauce for it.

This time I read up what I needed to do.

Avoid making lumps was the basic requirement that I gleaned from Delia. That and the proportions of butter, flour, and milk. I used one third of the quantities she proposed, and added cheese in the form of per-grated stuff (French cheeses are impossible to shred) and some parmesan that I did grate.

I used to think that I would have trouble waiting for the cooking times. But in the event I was too busy to be troubled by being sidetracked. I thought I would heat the ravioli after I started the sauce. Simmer the sauce, it said, for 6min; now for the ravioli - ok, in boing water for 8min. I had better get some water on then.

But it all worked out splendidly, partly because the time flew by so nothing had a chance to get cold! And NO LUMPS!

Because you like photos, here is one.

And what would be June's verdict? She would say "there is no colour". She liked it to have some colour. I suppose that is the sign of an expert.

I was happy that it was edible.

Cordialement
Terry

Envoyé de mon iPhone

Teeth

My visits to the dentist have not been frequent in France, so to have only 2 that need attention was possibly quite good. One needs to be pulled, the other is "delicate" and needs a plug made from a mould. Today I had my appointment for the 1st tooth.
I showed the dentist my insurance package and we agreed what it would mean for me. I have to pay something for the expensive filling. Tooth pulling is effectively free - the government pays, bless them.
So he sat me in the chair. Which do you want to do first? he asked. Hmm, I thought, get the mould done, and pull after. So I chose the mould. I was impressed that the anaesthetic took effect almost immediately. There followed nearly an hour of almost painless torture. Open wide, wider. Bite. Open again. Can I spit? No. Lots of whizzy noises, did that hurt? Have some more anaesthetic, this is taking some time to do. This plastic stuff takes 5 minutes to set, and the poor dentist's hand is in your mouth the whole time.
Hmm, I mused, feeling the tooth with my tongue. The hole is much larger now. Yes he said proudly. No improvement yet then, I thought. And then he plugged the hole temporarily. If you have hot or cold pain then call me. I will.
And the other tooth? No, not now, he said. You chose the other one. So I did. We booked an appointment for next Monday to finish this tooth.
He did not let me take photos. I was too tense anyway. So this is a photo-less blog.

Nuit Blanche

Nuit Blanche is one night in the year when Paris offers free events. There is an aid to finding them but I found it difficult to use because it just listed the artist, only when you open the link did you discover what the event was, and when in the night it happened.
So I went and photographed the nightlife. I did ask at the tourist information how to get the best from the evening but she was very honest and said she did not know. We agreed on a trial and error approach - actually hopeless in reality. If you ever visit this event, plan ahead and get to 2 or 3 you want to see. Anything else is a bonus (more that 3 if you want to stay up unit dawn - I didn't).
So here are some photos from the evening. I did get to see the event at the town hall. Cinema clips. I wondered what I was in for, I could not have guessed!
Click to open photos in full size for the best effect.

Notra Dame

Acrobat dancers were here. Not an official part of the night but I had seen them before and they were good.

Cafes were doing well.

This Paris street lamp failed to light up the road.

Hotel de Ville - Town Hall to you and me. Note the London bus.

Samsung high definition, probably in use for the HUGE cinema clips.

Balloons later given away. I did not get one.

The queue. I joined because they suddenly when in in large numbers.

Inside there is a large screen in the courtyard.

When I got in, the screening was of divers under water. No words but lots of diver noises. Then it ended, so I waited until it restarted. When it did, there was no title just a pulsing blob of living stuff. Underwater jelly creature, I wondered? No, the next picture is from the film and is of keyhole surgery in incredible detail. The tube you see on the left will soon shoot out a sack into which the earlier cut out tissue will be placed by pincers. Very graphic. I noticed there were not so many people watching this one.

I went home via the river so had more opportunity for photos. I loved the lights on the water, so you have lots to look at.

Hotel de Ville again, from the other side.

And here with the french flag lit up at the top.

So why "nuit blanche" - I am not sure. But thinking about it, it probably borrows from "carte blanche" since you are "free to visit anything".

If you are prepared to queue.

Comment :
A’ white night’ in English is a sleepless one. It’s probably why they expected you to go on ‘til dawn!
daddad

sailing

In order to take the car for a run (it hadn't moved for a month and was getting lazy) I looked on the map and found a leisure lake nearish-by.  I counted 70 boats (I think) most racing. Here are some of them.

One end of the lake. The other end was just as full.

Suds

This is a picture of the washing machine door mid wash. As you can see it is making every effort to get the cloths clean.

Next time I will put in less soap.