This morning i booked an extra night at the pension and walked up the main road looking for breakfast. I realize i need a day of rest after the travel. Maybe tomorrow i try to find a beach, or take the ferry to Africa, or travel back the way i came for Sevilla and flamenco. Who knows? But today i will bum around here. Drink coffee. Eat bread. Sit under a palm tree.
I met the first person here who speaks a tiny bit of English. My waiter at breakfast, and luckily so because i had a bit of confusion with another waitress who came here and thought i was a new customer. I wanted a second coffee, but couldn't explain that the coffee she was clearing away was already mine. God it sucks not speaking the language properly.
On a side note, it also sucks not having lots of change. Every time i sit down things end up costing like 3€ and then i only have large bills and feel like a tool. Where do these guys find all their change? The mysteries of Spain.
There isn't anything quite so fabulous as sitting on the ruins of an old fort overloking the city, the sea, the hills, completely alone. There is no tourist information, no ice cream stand, just the end of a dusty residential street and you walk into the hills. I see some people over the other side of the canyon, perhaps i chose the "wrong" fort. The next thing to do is climb down from here and try find a path to the next one.
After just a few more quiet moments in the sun.
Wow, the other half of the fort was something special. I wandered around aimlessly all day, then sat on a bench (yes, under palm trees) for a couple hours when i found free wifi. It's now the "no-man's land" between lunch ending around 15.00 and dinner starting around 21.00 and i am starving. I finally discovered the trick, however. Go to a café, order a tostada. It's really breakfast food, but it'll tide me over till tapas time.
Yay, here comes my tostada, om nom nom.
I think i'm going to start making these little yummy things at home. The bread in Germany is great, as is the cheese... and i have become so lazy over the last year. I don't cook at all any more, i just make (admittedly very nice) sandwiches. I do love to cook, but it sucks cooking for one, and after work i just don't have the energy. But some little melted cheese, diced tomatoes, olive oil... I can do that. Quesadillas i can do. Tortilla i can do. It's not much of a stretch from my regular eating, just some stuff is hot.
This is going to be one of those "when i get home from my holiday..." things that never happens. Oh well. Right now, smiling...
Most of this stuff i can guess what it is from the menu, but this time? I ordered hueva de maruca thinking it was something to do with an egg. Instead it is a salty (?) fishy (?) sausage (?) with nuts. God knows. Sadly this place is not as cozy as the one last night, but, eh. More tourists here too. I'm beginning to spot the tourists from the locals, although they all speak Spanish so it is more about the clothes and dopey looks.
I have a dopey look. This place is so goddamned chill. The pace is perfect - just what i needed. Lots of lounging, grazing, wandering about, smiling. I'm beginning to regret buying a return flight. Not that i don't want to go home, i just wish i had let myself buy a flight back from wherever, whenever i am done. Fuck it, if i don't make it back to Granada by Wednesday, i'll let the flight go. Luxuries of living so humbly in my everyday life.
This place is Moroccan. They also have tapas. I will eat the world! Muahahaha!