Monday, September 17, 2012

SPAIN: In a mess of beans baby, with Iberian ham

Peter’s family arrived in the early hours of the morning after a late-night arrival at Malaga airport. I went to bed early and then woke around 2pm to find Peter sitting up to wait for them. I sat with him until we finally heard them in the plazuela outside. I dragged suitcases in and up the stairs, allowed Munson to introduce himself and then went back to bed.

Wild translationWe all (nine of us) went to a local restaurant for lunch. The food was very good but the English menu was even more mysterious than the original Spanish – I think it was done word by word with a dictionary or by machine translation. It’s a shame as the menu was a luxuriously printed production, and we may have been keen to try out some of the less obvious items. Working backwards, I think I’ve decoded some of these:
Wild Dam –> Wild Catch/Prey
Gilded to the Plate –> Dorado (fish)

Wild Secret and Attacked of the garden will have to wait for a more linguistically savvy wolverine, I mean gourmand (both are glotóns).

Munson, lifeguardMunson spent the afternoon worrying over the three younger kids (the boys) in the pool, trotting around the edge, fretting and wooing when a head stayed underwater too long.

We finally located some free wifi in town, but you have to stand on the right street-corner. I brought down Peter’s son-in-law and some of the grandkids to show them where to find it. His granddaughter has a teen romance to maintain online this month, and the boys need to know the wind-speeds at Tarifa this week so they can plan their windsurfing days. Munson hovers around my knees as I check email and a few details for our itinerary in coming days. Some of the kids he’s met this week pass by with their elders, and it’s plain that they’ve heard lots of Munson stories already. I wonder how long this memory will last – there are definitely a lot of camera photos taken of him by youngsters, but I don’t have a sense of how long they keep these photos. Over the years I’ve been accosted by people who have old photos of Bondi still on their phones.

These weekend evenings have been quite noisy in town, partly fuelled by a few wedding processions. They’re not exactly the best streets for any sort of motor traffic, and since drivers often leave their vehicles blocking the street, the potential for a long blockade is quickly met. I’d hate to be in the back of an ambulance waiting to get through here. The  narrow streets may be ancient but you still see young men driving too fast in cars little narrower than the streets they circled, radios (all tuned to the same station) amplified and channelled by the whitewashed walls.
Gustav  Munson seeks out new friends on the roof terrace
This was our final evening in Medina-Sidonia after a most pleasurable and unforgettable week as Peter’s guests on the Costa de la Luz (the Coast of Light). Buenas noches, España.
sunset on the Costa de la Luz
sunset over Medina-Sidonia

1 comment:

  1. The menu you is hiliarious!
    "Attacked of the garden"
    Laughed my socks off!