Then, like a Victorian lady, I dealt with my correspondence. Now, she would have been writing letters at an elegant desk, whereas I was checking my email. Well, it is the 21st century, after all. My niece, who has obviously decided that there is no point in paying anyone to translate stuff for her when she has an aunt who speaks several languages, had sent me a really boring document on VAT which she needed translating double quick.
Having done my family duty I felt it was still early enough to go for
a longer stroll before the day heated up too much, as it was promising to do. So it was off to the Castro for me. As I walked along an almost empty García Barbón I reflected on the benefits of NOT having Sunday shopping. I know some people enjoy the convenience of being able to do the supermarket shop then but Sunday morning is wonderfully peaceful when all the shops bar bakeries are shut. When I got up to Rua Venezuela I saw another advantage. A cycle race was taking place but because it was Sunday the disruption to traffic was minimal.
From the top of the Castro it was difficult to see the Islas Cíes, still somewhat shrouded in mist, but the view was still worth the climb. Huge numbers of little boats were out aprovechando del día as they say. I headed down towards the port where the c
ollection of classic cars (and replica classic cars) which was there yesterday had disappeared. After admiring them yesterday I looked up Kittvigo.es but their website was singularly uninformative, really little more than a collection of pictures. The cars, though, were a pleasure to see. Walking home past all the boats, I was feeling peckish after my longish walk and treated myself to an ice cream. As my chess player was due to be out until mid-afternoon at least, we would be eating late. According to my Italian teacher it is quite acceptable to replace a meal with an ice cream, perfectly nutritious. What’s good for the Italians is good for me!
A little f
arther along the waterfront a brass band was playing and people sat on folding chairs listening to them. Once again “la mar de bandas” is putting on its summer programme. Every Sunday a different band plays; today it was the turn of La Banda Joven Las Delicias. Very good they were too. There is a nice little play on words in the programme title. If you are “la mar de contento” you are very happy. So it suggests lots of bands but la mar means the sea and, of course, the bands on this programme are playing within throwing distance of the sea. I got home in time to have a swim before the immense number of children who inhabit our flats invaded the pool. I have nothing against children having fun but I really do prefer not having my quiet swim disrupted. Today there was just me and another lady, very pleasant.
As I dried off after my swim, my phone rang. It was my chess player telling me he had won a prize and was on his way home. His prize money paid his entry fee and his travel expenses and still left some over for a couple of beers; did I fancy joining him? Yes, of course. So I sorted myself out and set off for the Maracaibo cafeteria on Plaza de Compostela.
By the time I got there, one of the party had given in and was having his siesta on a café chair, snoring gently. No post match analysis for him then! He had been complaining of feeling tired earlier on the week. Finally it had caught up with him.
Inside the cafeteria the England-Germany football match was on the television. Every so often I would hear a shout, more of a groan than a celebration. Germany was scoring and a group of English tourists was watching the debacle. They were getting very stressed out by the referee’s refusal to accept the second England goal. Whether it was the demoralising effect of that or just general bad performance I really don’t know. Whatever the reason, the final score was Germany 4 – England 1. Lots of long faces.
Time to pretend I’m Spanish maybe!!
Anthea, what a lovely expression; ” Then, like a Victorian lady, I dealt with my correspondence.” – Absolutely charming. It reminded me of my grandmother, teaching me the importance of writing letter, in particular, the “thank you” letters that followed birthdays and Christmases. And I still remember, “But Granny, I don’t know what to say.” She persisted and in the long run, we both won. Thanks for the reminder.
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