Monday 31st Jan
Last night we tried to go to Mass (granny’s flat, granny’s rules) but there wasn’t one on in the evening after all so we just went for dinner. Went to a wee Italian place called Little Roma’s, which was quite nice, though nothing special. I had some tasty pasta though with a cognac and cream sauce and, weirdly, a bunch of half-peeled prawns. No heads but they still had the tails and half the skin on them. I don’t mind peeling prawns (heads included) but I don’t understand why they would mix them all in with the sauce if they still needed peeled, rather than just leave them on top of the pasta. So I had to get my hands dirty to forage about in the sauce every time I went for one. Daft. Apart from that it was very tasty and I had lovely frozen lemon cheesecake too.
So, today’s mission, should I choose to accept it, which I might, if I can be bothered, or if the sun isn’t up to serious tanage, is to go to the ‘real’ supermarket up the road and buy some Gazpacho. All the other supermarkets are tourist based and sell things like Heinz baked beans for 3€ a tin, Tetley tea-bags, HP sauce, Irn Bru, and other staples of the British diet. But there is a normal supermarket up the hill, and they do some Spanish-y stuff that I’ve been wanting. Tortilla de patata (Spanish omelette), gazpacho, chorizo or fuet, maybe. Yums.
Time for coffee and then my morning Tracy Anderson exercises. I’ve been doing the arm one every day and I’m still feeling the burn by 30 seconds in. But I think it’ll be worth it. I’ve yet to move onto the ‘butt and thighs’ one, mainly because kneeling on the tiles here in the flat is frankly too sore on the knees, and I am on holiday, after all. So, arms it is. If I come back looking like a mini-Popeye, post-spinach, you’ll know it’s worked…
Sayonara fair reader!