Sun off a beach? (Semana Santa, pt. 3)

Sunday

The difference, in English, between beach and bitch; uses of puta vs. whore; the amazingly versatile coño; the worldwide display of religious observance (from parades to hijab); favorite 80´s American television; Spaghetti Westerns and their Spanish shooting locations; American and European class distinctions, and class mobility...we worked it all out over 8 hours and maybe as many drinks, and countless tapas. And a pizza. We even had a game of Telephone, for the right touch of art imitates life, in a dive bar in San José.

But again, you´re taking my word for it.

Luisa, Jelen and I got out for a morning stroll around Almería, including the Port area, with a side trip to the wonderful Centro Andaluz de la Fotografía. We quietly stepped in and out of the Cathedral (it was Easter Sunday), and saw the tail end of the Semana Santa pageant.

Cristóbal volunteered to drive out a short distance to the beach at the beginning of Cabo de Gata, a national park. Actually the city itself has a beach, but just 15 or 20 minutes out, the surroundings get more sparse and more scenic. Though we didn't see any, the area is known for flamingos, as well as its desalination plants.

We settled into one patio bar, and were joined shortly afterwards by Juan, who I´d remembered meeting while out for drinks on Friday. The tapas (and the cigarettes) were running out by the time we ordered our second drink, so we moved on. No cigarettes to be had in the next place either, but we did get some tasty fried fish treats.

The day had that sparkle of fresh sea air and spring sunshine, and everyone's mood was up and bouncing. After a few tinto veranos, the usual comprehension elevation set in, and it felt like a day out with friends, hardly noticed the language barrier. We took another scenic drive up a nearby mountain to the beautiful lighthouse, which has a stunning view and just beyond, a really tight mountain road up to another scenic spot, with a trail for biking or walking. We took a short walk and had a nice quiet time sitting on the rocks, watching and listening.

Just about then, my camera battery ran out.
We made our way down the mountain and headed for the little, tourist-y but fun town of San José, and had (yes) more drinks and tapas, and a silly game of Telephone in both languages that didn´t really get far, but was good for a few laughs. Hey, at least they knew how I felt.

We finished the night with a pizza in San José, in a place owned by a Milanese guy, that Juan seemed to think had ¨connections¨. The pizza was certainly a step closer to familiar, and I was charmed by how pizza´s the default food here, when no one can agree on anything else.

In some ways, this was the most vacation-y day in the traditional sense, with the beach, the drinks, the all day chatting and ... the pizza.

Tomorrow: Granada!