Nothing Happened

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It feels a bit cooler today, although everything’s relative I suppose; I’m sure you could still very comfortably fry an egg on the metal table out on our terrace. We’ve got a long day of travelling to North Africa tomorrow, where we’re led to believe it might be even cooler still. Who would have thought. We’re looking forward to this like a hole in the head (the travelling that is, not the destination, otherwise presumably we wouldn’t have planned to go there - excuse the nonsensical text, it’s been an uneventful day and I’m struggling to think of things to write about. Sensible readers should probably stop here), so we prepare ourselves by doing very little.

I tell Issy that I can’t leave here without swimming in the sea at least once, so I head out in the early evening for a dip .… well at least I thought it was the early evening. It’s after 7pm and the beach is still packed, which is further proof if any was needed that Spain’s in the wrong time zone. Not too many people seem to have left the sand, and quite a few, like me, are still arriving. The waves are rolling in quite hard, which doesn’t quite feel right as there’s not a breath of wind. My mind turns quickly to tsunami, but on reflection maybe not - I think that’s usually just one big wave rather than lots of smaller ones.

I use my best Spanish to order our dinner. Why is it then that while I’m speaking entirely in Spanish, well a sort of Spanish, our Spanish waiter is responding entirely in English, and good English it is too, a lot better than my Spanish, not that that’s saying much? This is a bit discouraging. The restaurant has a “happy hour”, which like a lot of establishments we’ve noticed around the place lasts for two hours.

They’re big on beach volleyball here. Most beaches we’ve seen on the Costa del Sol seem to have courts, and they’re usually well used. It’s 10.30pm and pitch black when we leave the restaurant, but some of the games seem still be in full swing … well they might be ... I’m trusting sounds and vague outlines of cavorting figures; it’s a bit too dark to be able to tell for sure.

That was hard work. I hope tomorrow’s a bit more eventful.

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