Thursday we went to Elche (Elx, in another dialect). It is, I read, a more typically Spanish city and also the site of the second largest palm forest in Europe. It is thought that the Phoenicians planted them sometime around the fourth century. One of the trees is a famous 7-trunked hermaphrodite with one that is date-bearing. I didn’t flock to see that one.
I had heard of a big leather/shoe store in Elche and found it. No more complaining about not finding size 48 shoes-they had models up to 53. Not every style in every size, but enough of a variety that I didn’t have to buy their only pair that fit me. I actually found a number of 47s that fit, so I’m beginning to think that my 48 cycling shoes are an anomaly.
Today was market day in Torrevieja-one of the biggest open air, itinerant seller gatherings in Spain. I guess! Hundreds of stalls cramming narrow downtown streets that are blocked off to traffic. You name it: leather, silk, olives, frankincense and myrrh…I found an almost new German Polizei leather jacket for only €50, and probably could have bargained it down some. Almost bought the requisite beret, but opted for a version of a peaked cap, quite like the one Andre has. Obviously, the “uncharacteristically cold” weather has made a hat desirable.
Which leads me to a rant, not a ramble. Every resident with whom I speak about the weather tells me of swimming in the ocean in December “last year”; birthday/pool parties around Christmas time; cycling in shorts and tees in January; bone-dry winters, blah, blah, blah…They are all liars; hiding some awful truth, hoping to lure in another duped expat. Oh, well-it’s still better than New England weather-Olde England as well, for that matter.
And that leads me to a truism. When people talk about the weather, they have nothing to say. I shan’t bore you further. Buenas noches.
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