Roll on the weekend

Before the performance of Carmen last night we three (one colleague, a friend from Sitges and me) went for a snack in a Basque pinchos bar near Santa Maria del Pi.  As this place is just off the Ramblas and near the Liceu it is a tourist haunt and therefore the “trust” that usually obtains in such places has been modified. 

The usual form is for punters to wend their way along a counter filled with plates of different pinchos, choose what they want and then, at the end of the meal have the waiter count up the number of sticks used to keep the good stuff on the bread and compute the bill.  As this was a bar only some of the pinchos were available for customer selection the other were kept behind glass and were available on request.

We were also told what to do which, as experienced pinchos eaters, we found a little de trop - with the other two speaking in complicated Spanish to reinforce the point!

There were delicious and washed down with Basque wine more than acceptable.

When we came out of the performance after 11 pm the Ramblas was heaving with people the vast majority of who were foreigners.  This mass of people must be a pickpocket’s delight and I walk down the Ramblas like some sort of soi-disant sheriff with both thumbs hooked securely into my pockets thereby ensuring the safety of wallet and other valuables – though leaving my mobile phone in my shirt pocket woefully vulnerable!

Yesterday it did rain for part of the day but today is gloriously sunny which is, of course good, but does encourage the children in the area to indulge in play which necessitates communication which isn’t allowed to fall below the level of scream!

Yesterday was also the taking back of the faulty but expensive luggage.  Having parked in the underground car park of El Corte Ingles in Cornella I took out the offending piece of luggage with a flourish and the handle (the offending item) worked immaculately.  Having used modified brute force on the handle in the UK and more selective violence in Spain I was, at least touched by the irony of the situation.

Not one to waste a parking space we walked into El Corte Ingles as I wanted opera glasses and a wallet.  The former want was only satisfied in Barcelona itself and the latter has been a problem for some time.

I have to carry not only by driving licence with me but also my NIE which is my official identity card in Spain.  This is not actually anything as sensible as a plastic credit card sized document but is rather a full sized A4 page with my official residential identification number on it.  This can be asked for at any time and it is always advisable to carry it.

The two documents together are bulky as my driving license was issued in 1967 and (although repaired) looks like some sort of ancient piece of vellum and even folded up takes up space.

My last purchase of a wallet was from a key cutter in Anec Blau (that sounds like the opening of a fairy story) and although it appeared superficially to be idea was far below what was necessary.

Basically, with what I carry around, I need not a man’s wallet but something more like the commodious article carried by women.  After a few unsatisfactory offerings the ladies of El Corte Ingles came up with exactly (almost) what I wanted.  It is, of course substantially more expensive than the last one, but at least I have been able to recycle that one as it has replaced Toni’s dilapidated one.

This evening: the meal with Irene because it is not Tuesday.  Sometimes my sense of time passing is a little flexible and it gives certain elasticity to my keeping of appointments!

Our evening out was a resounding success.  At my instigation Irene volunteered to join the route of the tapas and start her own list of stamped restaurants.

The first we visited was one in which we apparently saw Zadane - which has changed hands at least twice since we last ate there.  The tapa was one of meat pinchos and a large succulent prawn.  I had my customary glass of Cava to wash it down and we moved on to the next location.  Which happened to be on the other side of the road.

This establishment was the first restaurant that I visited when I first arrived to scout out Castelldefels – it also happened to be the most expensive!  The tapa here was a solid chunk of smoked salmon with a mustard sauce with salad.  Delicious and looking more like a starter than a tapa.

We then made the fatal move to a restaurant which seemed to be unusually crowded and full of youngish people.  A noisy live band was playing and the tapa was a mini hamburger and was also disgusting.

Our final port of call was the most interesting.  This was a restaurant which had changed hands at least twice since I last ate there and provided us with the most interesting tapa: frozen gazpacho with anchovy in a filo pastry nest with a salsa.

It was so good we decided to stay for a little more and we were given the menus in Spanish and atrocious English.  The English was so bad that Irene volunteered to translate the menu to avoid further violence to the sensibilities of English speakers!

One of the most interesting items on the English menu was “Roach in oil” not to mention the “dry sausage” that was offered in another part.  We were given another English translation to look at and we convulsed in laughter at the unreal use of English it contained.  Irene produced a pen and we commenced to provide a more convincing translation that the one which was printed.  It was just like the last days in school all over again with the struggle to produce something readable in English for the web page of the school!

All in all and excellent evening and I still have only completed 6 of the 30 tapas in the competition.  20% done 80% to do.

I welcome the challenge.