During Semana Santa, my study abroad program shuts down for our first "spring break." My señora has a beach house (apartment, really) that she planned to go to during Semana Santa, and since I had no other travel plans, she graciously invited me along. Had I stayed in Sevilla she would have had to stay with me anyway, so it was a win-win.
Charo’s good friend and neighbor, Lourdes, also came with us. We took Charo’s car, a little silver Ford Focus, to the beach in Puerto de Santa María, about an hour and a half’s drive from Sevilla to the Atlantic coast. Now, not only did we have to fit Charo, Lourdes, me, and all of our luggage into the car, but Charo also had to bring a new kitchenette table for us to eat on. Squeezing all of that into a Focus is not easy.
We managed to figure it out in the end, but we had some struggles with the configuration at first. You should have seen Charo and me trying to figure out how to fold down part of the back seat in order for the table to fit. It would fold down about 80% of the way and then just stop. We tried several arrangements but did not succeed. We accepted the 80% for what it was and fit in all of the supplies, even the table.
After picking Lourdes up from a nearby restaurant, we set off down the highway to Puerto de Santa María. I was ecstatic to finally be in a car for a long ride. Other than short trips in taxis, I have not ridden very long in a car since mid-January. What’s better, we did so in my style: windows down, music up. Please imagine me rocking out with two women in their fifties to the likes of Katy Perry, Puff Daddy, and David Guetta, with them attempting to sing along more than I did. Hey, I wasn’t in control of the radio. I just wonder if they understood the songs at all.
Once we arrived in Puerto de Santa María, we dropped our things off at the apartment and then drove directly to the grocery store. On Saturday afternoon, at least that Saturday, and every Sunday, the stores are closed. One had better stock up before then. Charo poked fun at Lourdes as she pondered over which red wine to select while I wished that I could take charge of the shopping. Seriously, it’s been so strange to not control what I have to eat even though I usually enjoy what is put in front of me. Much to my dismay Charo picked up 2% milk--I’m all about the skim, and let’s face it, I certainly don’t need any extra calories when I’m here--as well as THREE packages of hot dogs. For one week. I thought, “Dear Lord, please help me. Please don’t let all of those be for me.” Unfortunately, most of them were.
Upon returning to the apartment complex to drop off groceries, Charo announced that the kitchen was closed and that we would be eating out for lunch. No complaints here. The first place we went to she grabbed each of us a beer, letting me know that I should be very comfortable because we were, after all, on vacation, and on vacation there are less rules. As we drank the last of our beers and rose from the table, I managed to knock over a glass that fell to the ground and shattered. Man, I’m smooth.
When we walked into our second stop on the lunch tour, Charo asked if I wanted another beer. Now, sad as it may be, I was already feeling a little buzz from the last one and really did not feel like getting tipsy in front of those two ladies. I opted for the Coca-Cola Light (aka Diet Coke). We split a platter of langostinos, one of my favorite things to eat now. I am not sure whether they are prawns, squat lobster, or something else, but in any case they are darn tasty. At our third stop, I was offered yet another drink but again opted for the Coke. There we shared a real, fresh paella.
Many restaurants in Spain advertise paella, but most of the time it is pre-packaged stuff that simply must be warmed up before serving. Our paella was no impostor. This bad boy was the real deal in a big old pan, fresh from the kitchen. Paella is another one of my favorites here, but I had not had one like this before. There were all sorts of seafood in it, and I slurped things from shells having no idea what they were. Keep in mind that I never slurp things from shells or even come close to doing so. It was absolutely delicious. I did managed to spill some rice trying to pry a piece of something from a shell, though. Again, so smooth. No matter how much education I receive, I never fail to look like an idiot.
That afternoon was a great way to begin my vacation. I certainly loved being on a break, but on the other hand I had to pay close attention at all times because everything was in Spanish. If I had been zoning out or daydreaming (not unusual) and Charo or Lourdes had spoken to me without using my name, I would not have had a clue that anyone was even speaking to me. It makes me aware that I still have a ton of work to do regarding my Spanish skills, but a week with those two talking to me simultaneously and at a speed faster than the Road Runner employs when escaping Wile E. Coyote was excellent practice. You know me; I’m always learning.
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