There are many aspects of visiting family
of someone you don’t really know which are not availing to good.
Some aspects, indeed which are positively
deleterious to your health. There is,
after all, a limit to the length of time for which you can keep the rictus of a
smile approximating to good humour stapled to your face. Add to this sense of boredom the overlay of a
foreign language in which family members you don’t know are speaking about
other family members you have never met and the slide into hysteria is always
tempting.
But the final horror is saying
goodbye. Not, obviously the escape which
is inherent in the word - but the length of time with which individuals can
draw out the period during which the farewell takes place. During the last of our three (3) family
visits I lost the will to live three times on successive moments and also tried
physically moving the car without the ignition keys in a desperate attempt to
escape choosing anywhere in the wilds of Normandy to where I was!
But like all things, even school meetings,
an end eventually arrives and you can then look back on the horror and pretend
that you now laugh lightly when you think about it.
The much vaunted meal in the lorry drivers’
café was something of a disappointment.
It turned out to be one of the places in which we had attempted to get a
meal when we first arrived. The iron
rule of nothing after two pm defeated us, but we ensured that we arrived with
plenty of time to spare this time and we daunted to see that the whole of this
part of the world had made it to the restaurant part of the café well before
the end of the time to be welcomes and they had filled the place.
We were not, however turned away and we
were quite satisfied to sit in the entrance at a plastic table and drink away
the time necessary to be served. The
white wine was excellent – even if it was served in a glass without the natural
accompaniment of a bottle.
We were offered the choice between tuna
salad and terrine. The salad was a small
plate of chopped lettuce with mozzarella cheese and flakes of tuna with the oil
and vinegar already added. The terrine
was paté.
The second plate was beef with yellow rice
which was served on a metal plate for the three of us who ordered it to serve
ourselves. Good thing we didn’t choose
the pasta as that looked desiccated and tasted worse.
The saving grace of the meal was the proffered
plate of three different types of cheese: a Camembert, a chevre and another
with which I didn’t bother. We attacked
these goodies (which were good) with an enthusiasm which obviously frightened
the waitress who eventually snatched the platter away from us!
The dessert was cold rice pudding with
rhubarb – which actually tasted better than it sounded. But not much.
The wine, of which I had lots, was not
included. Neither was the coffee. So the reasonable sounding €11 for the meal
ended up costing more like €25. Which,
for what we had was not a good bargain at all.
So far Spain is winning hands down in the provision of good quality,
reasonably priced food. Tomorrow Paris
and we shall see what the city can offer.
At present the girls are trying to download
the photos that we have taken onto their computer system. Once again this has necessitate a telephone
conference and much heartache.
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