The other night we ate in a tapas place owned by a man clearly from Spain. It was yummy food, and reminded me of our hunt for food when we've visited Spain in the past. We couldn't get the hang of the schedule there, and we were often on the train at times when cafes were running, and then we'd get to the station and be starving, and nothing open. A couple of places we stayed had room service, but that turned out to mean from 5-7 or some impossible time, and when you called, they were never actually operating. We succumbed, and ate a huge lunch at noontime, even though the courses were daunting, waddled around in the hot sun to see cathedrals and palaces, and then ate tapas at a bar in the evening, because waiting for dinner meant 10 pm or later. We were too jet lagged to stay awake until 4 am.
Recently, I read that the Spanish government is trying to convince Spaniards to stop the clubbing and late night revels, because work productivity is abysmal. Evidently, the opening of shops and offices from 4 or 5 until 8 pm leaves employees overstuffed and drowsy from lunch. Tell me about it! If I were younger I'd immigrate, as I am the perfect early morning person to reorganize their schedules. Spain needs me.
I love their cafe con leche, and I discovered marzipan can be delicious, if you get in in Spain. I love the South of Spain, and Granada and the Alhambra. But Toledo, Madrid, Barcelona and other places ain't bad either. I am most fond of the Prado, my favorite museum. I worship all Spanish painters, especially Velasquez, Goya and Ribera. I love anything Moorish. I'd be in heaven. All I'd have to do is open a guesthouse which had 24 hour room service, or a cafe open all the time, and I'd clean up. The tourists would all be American though, and that would be a drag. How would I ever practice my Spanish? Ah, perhaps it is too late for me. But I can dream...
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