Things in their place.

Thank goodness the chess tournament has started. I thought I’d never get the chess player off the computer. I’ve barely got my hands on the keyboard for more than a few minutes for days. Anyway, here we are finally at Sanxenxo. The playing has begun. All down there in the depths is tension and the clicking of chess clocks. 

Me, I’ve been in the pool. I was in the pool in the cloudy, overcast weather so, naturally, since I came out, showered and got myself sorted the sky has cleared and the sun has come out properly. Almost time to go and sit on the terraza with a little clara, I think. 

That’s the sun back in its place. 
 
Here are few more things out of place. 

On Thursday I accompanied Phil down into Vigo centre for a pre-chess tournament haircut. In the barber’s we came across this:- Una urraca – a (baby) magpie. 

The barbers found it in the road about three weeks ago, all scrawny and at death’s door. They never expected it to live but drop fed it I don’t know what kind of stuff and it survived. So on Thursday they installed it on its perch in the barber’s shop. They just need three more so they can teach them to be a barber shop quartet. 

Then yesterday, Friday, we set off for Sanxenxo: train to Pontevedra and bus from there to Sanxenxo. Not a bad journey but with a few oddities on the way. On the train the public address system, both visual and audio, went haywire. 

This was a stopping train, calling at every possible little station along the way. We had called at Redondela and Redondela-Picota when the p.a. system informed us that the next station would be Redondela. Strange! Had the train started to go backwards without our noticing it? After that it told us we were approaching Arcade but it looked a lot like Pontevedra to me. And indeed it WAS Pontevedra. 

Heaven help any poor soul who didn’t know the line and was relying on the p.a. system. The RENFE employee checking tickets didn’t seem to notice any of this and just marched up and down the train without saying anything. I wonder if you could sue RENFE if you missed your station because they told you the wrong station was coming up. 

Fortunately we are seasoned travellers, on that line anyway, and hopped off the train and hurried over to the nearby bus station to catch the bus to Sanxenxo. Only five minutes wait, as well. Such organisation! 

As the bus toiled its way through Pontevedra – it takes about twenty minutes to get from the bus station to the bridge which takes you across the river into Poio and you could probably walk it in half the time – I noticed one of those temperature signs outside a chemist’s shop. 40° was what it said. Now, I know the sun had come out but that was a bit of an exaggeration. 14° at the most. 

When we finally crossed the bridge over to Poio I spotted our friend Colin standing on the corner bending someone’s ear about something or other. At least he was where he should be! No time to bang on the window and wave so I sent him a quick text instead. 

  And eventually we reached our destination. What’s more the sun was shining and the sky was blue. 

I even managed a dip in the pool in the late afternoon, early evening. 
 
This morning I was up bright and early and out for a run down the promenade. 

On my way I was accosted by one of the local loonies, a rather dishevelled-looking chap who tried to engage me in conversation. It went like this: 

Rather dishevelled-looking chap: Hola 
Me: a vague wave, trying to imply, “I have no idea who you are”. 
Rather dishevelled-looking chap: Do you spik Inglish? 
Me: Yes. 
Rather dishevelled-looking chap: Do you are Elisabet? 
Me: No. 
Rather dishevelled-looking chap: Do you know Segovia? 
Me: No. Creo que usted se equivoca. No soy Elisabeth y no conozco Segovia. 
Rather dishevelled-looking chap: Ya nos volveremos a ver. 

 That last bit meant we’ll see each other again. Not if I see you first, thought I. I did see him again as I ran back but fortunately he didn’t see me. Maybe I need a new running route. 

But for now, I hear a clara calling me.