There are a lot of overly bronzed British expats here. Ann made me giggle this afternoon as we entered the beautiful sunning deck on the 9th floor of the hotel. She joined me in the shade as I played on my computer and stated that she "did not want to ever look like that!" I do understand that longing for the sun though. The Brits are really suffering this year with their heavy rains and well, I'm Canadian. Enough said! The weather down here on the Costa del Sol is very nice. The smell of the Mediterranean is good for my soul. So is the inexpensive Tempranillo.
In Spain, everywhere you go, you will see a boy with a soccer ball. They walk down the street with the ball on the ground as though it is just another appendage. Ten year old boys will be walking down the street with their parents as though they were walking a well trained dog, without encumbering anyone. I've always been amazed by the ball handling skills of professional futbol players. Now I understand where that fluid, unconscious control comes from. It's years and years of constant practice.
Artists at work
We enjoyed some time searching and finding polished beach glass and other treasures.
Over time, I have been immersed into the beer language of Spain. Spaniards do not order a cerveza. When trying to get tapas at the best value, you order a "cana". It's the smallest and least expensive and you still get the free tapas. In the above photo, I have ordered a tubo. I like the tall slim glass simply because it makes me feel fancy. My low carb diet is obviously suffering and will have to resume once we're home. https://matadornetwork.com/nights/order-beer-spain/
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