LET'S HAVE A REST TODAY
Wednesday was calm and quiet; we walked to all of our adventures. First, cafe con leche with churros. They were too hot to pick up for a minute or so, but then I couldn’t stand it...I dipped the end in sugar and bit into the fried, crispy “fry bread.” One wasn’t enough (like those potato chips). They are usually dipped in a cup of steaming chocolate. I glanced around. No Spaniards were watching, so I dunked the hot churro into my cafe con leche. Yes!!! Steven sprinkled white sugar and large grains of brown sugar onto the plate for more dipping and we ate all of them.
Afterward, we turned toward the sea where we walked down the beach a while. Sand, sea and people already beat us there. When we turned inland again, I suggested we go back another way to the apartment. He hesitated only a heartbeat and then followed me. I did it the other day and found my way back...what fun, new streets, new doors to take photos of, locals everywhere...but after about thirty minutes, I wasn’t quite as confident as when I’d left the beach. We asked a shopkeeper who was sweeping the sidewalk at his entrance door...where is Guerrero Street? He scratched his head and said, la Calle? The street? Do you mean the Guerrero Fish Market. We both said no... I asked for directions to the beach instead and after he said a few words to Steven in Spanish (of course) we were on our way. Three blocks later, I found my landmark, turned down the street with Steven mumbling after me...how did you do that?
We washed laundry and hung everything on the back patio clothesline, making the clothespins stretch to hold everything. We found an internet place and I bought an international SIM card. I can now call family and friends in Spain. In America? I still need WhatsApp with WiFi for phone calls. The service is spotty with the downstairs cafe’s WiFi, but it's free. We are lucky ducks.
I found a little shop and left some euros there...I may need to toss something to fit in the new things, but since I plan to leave some of my Historia de una niña emigrante books here, I will have room for more stuff! I window shopped for shoes (yes, I know I have a shoe addiction.) I've already bought one pair of red wedge shoes and a Spanish dress with that beautiful lacy-edged ruffle that I like so much. But, that won't take up much room...
Steven was captivated by a butcher slicing jamón (ham) into very thin slices in the meat market's window. The man with the knife did not lift his eyes to acknowledge us as he focused on slicing the ham.
By 3:00, we decided to have a leisure meal. We walked slowly toward the paseo and then continued toward the beach where we remembered the chiringuito (beach bar in the sand) the night Miguel and Isabel led us to the sea. It was a hot walk, but once we went into the bar and sat under the tent, we felt the breeze, heard the waves crash over the sand and all was good. Steven got his beer and I had my tinto de verano. The luxury of relaxing there with the gentle sea breeze tugging at our hair, made the day perfecto. We ordered a big mixed salad and boquerones (deep fried anchovies).
Our conversations are often about our ancestors and the memories we have of our grandparents, their struggles and our love of the investigative urges within us. It seems that filling up those family tree branches will be the never-ending story. Siblings left behind and their descendants are probably here in the Costa del Sol of our ancestors, but it's difficult to find all of them. Some people lived in one village, but married in a different village or moved to another. So, the records are lodged hodgepodge around the area. We are both lucky to have a good friend, Cristobal Navas Perez, who has found a wealth of information for us.
As our words eventually faded into the breeze, we contemplated the rest of our family story. And we didn't want to leave that lovely spot, so we ordered just one more drink for the road before returning to the apartment. It was hot and humid, so we didn’t dally by changing our route back again. I had a special phone date at 6:00 pm that I didn’t want to miss. And I didn’t....
Tomorrow we drive el Carro II a few miles west to one of Steven's ancestor's villages. Chilches is where we will walk the narrow streets and feel his family. I know his need to do this because each time I am in Almogia, Campanillas or northern Spain in Fuentesauco, Toro and the two smaller villages of my own family, my mind flies away to long ago.
Afterward, I'll put on my swimsuit. I will rent a hamaca (a chaise lounge) beneath sea-grass umbrellas.
The Mediterranean Sea.
A slight breeze.
The sound of waves sliding over the sand.
And my camera, of course.
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