Where's Bertie: He's still sitting in the same beachside road as he was yesterday.
Weather: Overcast start, but clearing to a gloriously sunny day (mid-twenties). Windy.
As dawn was thinking of breaking, I was lying in bed listening to the wind howling round. The weather forecast was consulted. I decided on breakfast before running, to give it chance to calm down outside. It didn't calm down, but the curved shape of the beach here and the presence of lots of large buildings meant I never had it in my face for long at any one stretch.
As we walked through the deserted town yesterday afternoon I had recalled to Mick the seaside resort we visited just north of Barcelona a few years ago*. On our first visit, the place was dead and we assumed it was like that all winter. Our second visit, a couple of weeks later, fell on a weekend and the difference was incredible. I wondered if this place would be the same.
I returned from my run with news that there were eateries open for business and more looking like they were preparing to open. On that basis, we decided to stay another day (even though we would usually avoid going out for food on a weekend, when prices are inflated).
After a trip to the supermarket (conveniently an easy walk away), off along the prom we went. It was now early afternoon and what a difference from yesterday. It was fair bustling, although it was remarkable how few people were on the beach. With skies and temperatures like this in the UK, you would struggle to fit a postage stamp between people on Brighton Beach. Here most locals are still going around in big coats and scarves. We very much stand out as foreign tourists (so much so that the beggar that worked the tables whilst we were lunching avoided us).
Don't be fooled by the size of the paella dish. The contents were shallow.
Surveying the menus of half a dozen eateries, we bounced back and forth between two of them trying to make a decision. With hindsight we chose wrong. We'd known that our choice was more expensive, but it was only after we'd ordered that we realised that it also didn't include pudding. As for the food, whilst tasty enough, it included not a single morsel of vegetable across the two courses (salad for tea tonight then**!).
The rest of our afternoon has been a quiet one. Puzzles, reading, keeping abreast of sports results, a bit of ambling - nowt to write home about.
(*These conversations describing places we've been before involve one of us throwing random recollections at the other. In this case: "Stayed at the on-street Aire the first time, at the car park Aire the second; big funfair that was closed; Spaniard in the van behind us ran his engine for an hour in the middle of the night." That was enough for Mick to recognise the town I was talking about without me recalling watching activity on a motor racing circuit.
**Gah! I now realise I forgot to pack the salad spinner. I also suspect (due to not having found it anywhere that would appear logical for it to be secreted) that I don't have my swimming costume with me.)
Weather: Overcast start, but clearing to a gloriously sunny day (mid-twenties). Windy.
As dawn was thinking of breaking, I was lying in bed listening to the wind howling round. The weather forecast was consulted. I decided on breakfast before running, to give it chance to calm down outside. It didn't calm down, but the curved shape of the beach here and the presence of lots of large buildings meant I never had it in my face for long at any one stretch.
As we walked through the deserted town yesterday afternoon I had recalled to Mick the seaside resort we visited just north of Barcelona a few years ago*. On our first visit, the place was dead and we assumed it was like that all winter. Our second visit, a couple of weeks later, fell on a weekend and the difference was incredible. I wondered if this place would be the same.
I returned from my run with news that there were eateries open for business and more looking like they were preparing to open. On that basis, we decided to stay another day (even though we would usually avoid going out for food on a weekend, when prices are inflated).
After a trip to the supermarket (conveniently an easy walk away), off along the prom we went. It was now early afternoon and what a difference from yesterday. It was fair bustling, although it was remarkable how few people were on the beach. With skies and temperatures like this in the UK, you would struggle to fit a postage stamp between people on Brighton Beach. Here most locals are still going around in big coats and scarves. We very much stand out as foreign tourists (so much so that the beggar that worked the tables whilst we were lunching avoided us).
Surveying the menus of half a dozen eateries, we bounced back and forth between two of them trying to make a decision. With hindsight we chose wrong. We'd known that our choice was more expensive, but it was only after we'd ordered that we realised that it also didn't include pudding. As for the food, whilst tasty enough, it included not a single morsel of vegetable across the two courses (salad for tea tonight then**!).
The rest of our afternoon has been a quiet one. Puzzles, reading, keeping abreast of sports results, a bit of ambling - nowt to write home about.
(*These conversations describing places we've been before involve one of us throwing random recollections at the other. In this case: "Stayed at the on-street Aire the first time, at the car park Aire the second; big funfair that was closed; Spaniard in the van behind us ran his engine for an hour in the middle of the night." That was enough for Mick to recognise the town I was talking about without me recalling watching activity on a motor racing circuit.
**Gah! I now realise I forgot to pack the salad spinner. I also suspect (due to not having found it anywhere that would appear logical for it to be secreted) that I don't have my swimming costume with me.)
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