Where's Bertie? He's still at the Aire at Lanestosa. The Brits have now gone. He is sandwiched by German and Spanish vans tonight.
Weather: Rain until late afternoon.
The weather was as forecast: wet. Hibernation seemed like a good plan and thus indoor things were done until, at 1pm, it seemed like a reasonable time to wander the 1km down the road to see if the Auberge was serving a Menu del Dia today. There are three bars in the town, the nearest only about 150m away, but they only serve pintxos.
A wide concrete path/narrow lane alongside the dry riverbed (remember this is limestone country; there is an underground river too, and the above ground one only flows when it's really wet) delivered us to the door of the auberge and at first glance it didn't look promising. Two cars in the car park, two people inside - one behind the bar and one propping it up. Some poorly-acted programme was blaring out of the TV in the corner.
Language was an issue, as the lady running the place spoke less English than we speak Spanish, but we communicated that we wanted to eat and after a while she called us down to the dining room - an intimate place with just four tables. Naturally, at 1.30pm, we were the only people in there. She put the TV on for us, but turned away from the dodgy acting and to the news channel which, for the entire time we were there, focused on the story of the Catalan leader having sought political assylum in Belgium - a story that still hasn't been mentioned on the BBC news App.
Making our meal choices was an exercise in random selection with a bit of giggling thrown in, as there was no written menu. We did manage to grasp that two of the options for the starter were asparagus and pasta, so we went for one of each of those. The other proved to be a lentil soup, which I would have preferred to the asparagus, but I didn't learn that until other people started arriving an hour later.
Main courses were more of a stab in the dark. Mick found himself with a plate completely covered with thinly cut fried steak with a few chips on top. I found myself with ... well, I'm not quite sure! I could identify the chips and the peppers, but had no idea what was inside the peppers. After posting this photo on Facebook...
...a friend googled and suggested they were stuffed with cod puree. They didn't strike me as fishy, but who knows?
For me desert was easy. I don't think I've ever had a meal in Spain where 'flan' wasn't an option (and it happens to be my favourite) and even I could work out that 'flan café' was coffee flavoured. Mick went for the option that she seemed to be recommending which transpired to be a rolled sponge containing a thick custard and soaked in some fruit syrup. Both were lovely.
Along with all of that came a basket of bread, a litre of bottled still water, a half litre of fizzy water and a litre of wine. The price? €9 per head.
It wasn't the best quality food we've eaten, but I've had worse meals in the UK, with only a fraction of the quantity, for over three times the price.
With incredible luck, the rain had held off as we had walked to our lunch. It poured over lunch, then held off again as we walked back.
That's a lot of words to say 'we went out for lunch', but there's nowt else for me to talk about today. The forecast is better for tomorrow!
I'll finish with a photo I forgot to post yesterday. You remember that house I mentioned a couple of days ago that Mick was eyeing up? This one:
We walked around the back of it yesterday and it's even more impressive on the rear elevation:
Weather: Rain until late afternoon.
The weather was as forecast: wet. Hibernation seemed like a good plan and thus indoor things were done until, at 1pm, it seemed like a reasonable time to wander the 1km down the road to see if the Auberge was serving a Menu del Dia today. There are three bars in the town, the nearest only about 150m away, but they only serve pintxos.
A wide concrete path/narrow lane alongside the dry riverbed (remember this is limestone country; there is an underground river too, and the above ground one only flows when it's really wet) delivered us to the door of the auberge and at first glance it didn't look promising. Two cars in the car park, two people inside - one behind the bar and one propping it up. Some poorly-acted programme was blaring out of the TV in the corner.
Language was an issue, as the lady running the place spoke less English than we speak Spanish, but we communicated that we wanted to eat and after a while she called us down to the dining room - an intimate place with just four tables. Naturally, at 1.30pm, we were the only people in there. She put the TV on for us, but turned away from the dodgy acting and to the news channel which, for the entire time we were there, focused on the story of the Catalan leader having sought political assylum in Belgium - a story that still hasn't been mentioned on the BBC news App.
Making our meal choices was an exercise in random selection with a bit of giggling thrown in, as there was no written menu. We did manage to grasp that two of the options for the starter were asparagus and pasta, so we went for one of each of those. The other proved to be a lentil soup, which I would have preferred to the asparagus, but I didn't learn that until other people started arriving an hour later.
Main courses were more of a stab in the dark. Mick found himself with a plate completely covered with thinly cut fried steak with a few chips on top. I found myself with ... well, I'm not quite sure! I could identify the chips and the peppers, but had no idea what was inside the peppers. After posting this photo on Facebook...
...a friend googled and suggested they were stuffed with cod puree. They didn't strike me as fishy, but who knows?
For me desert was easy. I don't think I've ever had a meal in Spain where 'flan' wasn't an option (and it happens to be my favourite) and even I could work out that 'flan café' was coffee flavoured. Mick went for the option that she seemed to be recommending which transpired to be a rolled sponge containing a thick custard and soaked in some fruit syrup. Both were lovely.
Along with all of that came a basket of bread, a litre of bottled still water, a half litre of fizzy water and a litre of wine. The price? €9 per head.
It wasn't the best quality food we've eaten, but I've had worse meals in the UK, with only a fraction of the quantity, for over three times the price.
With incredible luck, the rain had held off as we had walked to our lunch. It poured over lunch, then held off again as we walked back.
That's a lot of words to say 'we went out for lunch', but there's nowt else for me to talk about today. The forecast is better for tomorrow!
I'll finish with a photo I forgot to post yesterday. You remember that house I mentioned a couple of days ago that Mick was eyeing up? This one:
We walked around the back of it yesterday and it's even more impressive on the rear elevation:
Have been following yr blog ever since you were in the Far North. Loving it! Are you headed for the Picos de Europa? If so, make a point of trying the local cheese (a SERIOUS blue!). There are five villages, and each swears that they have the best and insist you try. For me Tresviso had the tastiest.
ReplyDeleteWe are indeed headed towards the Picos de Europa, albeit rather slowly. We've still five weeks left before we need to turn for home, so even with our current slow pace, we should make it that far.
ReplyDeleteWe are both partial to blue cheese, so that sounds like an excellent tip.