Wednesday, 20th September.
International Language of Soap Operas
Last night, just as I was falling asleep, a new snorer
let rip! Barb got the giggles again. But this bloke wasn't in
the same league as the Brazilians.
We stopped at a small cafe this morning, where a Spanish soap
opera was showing on tv. It was brilliant. We knew exactly what
was happening, and we hardly spoke a word of Spanish. I may not speak
the International Language of Love, and I am acquainted with the
International Language of Money, but I think I may well be fluent in
the International Language of Soap Operas. Dodgy music, wobbly sets,
wooden acting, thin plotlines. What more could you want?
Here's what was happening: A wheelchairbound bloke was in court
in a damages or criminal proceeding. It doesn't matter. Anyway, he
has these fervent phonecalls with some woman, who seems to be living
in a hotel room. Or she lives in a flat decorated like a hotel room.
It doesn't matter. There is a supermarket, and all the staff at the
supermarket never work, they only gossip. Also seems to be a lack
of customers at that supermarket. Then, during the trial, Wheelchair
Man gets really upset with what the opposition lawyer is saying, and
stands up! Shock horror. Then we see the woman of the fervent phone
calls popping pills then having nightmares. Magic. Channel 5,
10am weekdays. (That's in Spain, kids.)
The outskirts of Burgos went on forever. Burgos is a city, and
we were going to spend tonight in a hotel room. All very cosy,
isn't it? Don't even think it, JT, and don't bother emailing me, I
know what your smutty little mind is thinking. When we finally found
the hotel and sorted out a suite (boys in one room, girls in the
other, all above board) we found the pastry shop from heaven!
Now I don't know if I've mentioned this before, but the pastries
in Spain are out of this world! And they're cheap! They are
soooooo goooooood. When we get to a town, we first find the
refugio, then we find the pastry shop. And maybe a bread shop or
supermarket, but WE NEED THOSE PASTRIES!
Anyway, the lady at this pastry shop was mildly amused by our
lack of Spanish, and loved the way we'd buy stuff, go off and eat
it, then come back fifteen minutes later for more.
Back at the hotel room, we discovered that we had cable! So we
watched, for the first time since we'd been in Spain, some of the
Olympics! Looks like we're winning loads of medals, nice. All
those pastries seem to be slowing the Spanish athletes down.
How are Canada doing? Oh, Canada.