caleta

We had a nice night Friday. At the last minute, we decided to give our friend V. a call to see whether she was free to join us. She lives just outside of town, but we hadn't seen her for a couple months. Luckily she had no plans, so we had a good time catching up. And the pups were happy that V. couldn't finish her plate of calamares because they shared the leftovers. :-) We had an early night: V. had to be up at 6:30 because the builders would arrive at 7:00 to continue work on her pool, and Big Jim and I had planned to travel to the weekly Saturday market at Caleta, which is a seaside town near Torre del Mar. I confess our own village's weekly market is a bit of a disappointment. There typically are three produce stands and one flower stand, one man selling shoes completely inappropriate for village life (ie, stiletto and platform heels), another man selling 20-year-old CDs (not bad, though, if you're looking for some older Johnny Cash or Willie Nelson recordings), a woman selling linens (also not bad; I did get a nice tablecloth for our terrace table, cost 10 euros), and a couple of Moroccans selling electronics of questionable origin. Fairly uninspiring stuff. Therefore, every few months Big Jim and I decide to go to the market in Caleta, which is considerably larger, covering several city-length blocks. We set out late morning, barely managing to escape the traffic in the village, which was overrun with people from the campo, coming into town to collect their mail, shop, and socialize. Sidebar for brief, mini-rant: Dear People of the Campo: I know how much you love your Mitsubishi Monteros and Land Rovers. They make you feel rough and tough, modern-day pioneers even. And that's fine. But what makes you think you should be driving them in villages that were built in the days when a mule was the only available source of transportation? Our Peugeot 405 is practically too wide to negotiate some streets; whatever gives you the idea that a Landcruiser will be able to? There are two parking lots on the edge of town; park there! The bottlenecks you create are an inconvenience to the rest of us. (Although I do confess to smile when I hear the grating sounds as you add another scrape mark to your SUV's fender.) The market at Caleta was more crowded than usual, mainly because of the recent influx of tourists for the August holiday. The bargains on produce were great as usual. For 10 euros we bought 3 kilos of tomatoes (6.5 lbs.) , 2 kilos (4.5 lbs.) of amazing peaches, big bunches of beautiful spring onions and carrots, and a huge sack of garlic. We also had a look at our favorite place, the spice stand, but they didn't have any of the sundried tomatoes we love (I think we're going to try to do own). Sufficiently weighed down with our purchases, we made our way back to the car and drove over to Eroski, where we had some little sandwiches and coffee as a snack. The store windows at the mall have all been changed to display the newly arrived fall clothes, which just seems all wrong to me. How can one think tweed when it's 90 degrees F outside. Sidebar for another mini-rant: To the vacationing tourists: What gives you the idea it's okay to do your shopping while wearing only your swimming costume? Would it be too much trouble to throw on a pair of shorts or a tee shirt? I cannot help but notice the similarities between the bumpy, wrinkly skin hanging out of the back of your meathanger and that on the recently plucked chicken thighs I've just picked off the shelf. It's not good. Headed back to the village, where I spent the rest of the afternoon working and chatting with my parents, who called after just returning from vacation in Chincoteague, VA, and Big Jim worked on jarring the vat of curry he made earlier in the week. We had a quiet night in, watching the DVD of "Twelve Monkeys" our friend T. brought us on his recent visit. I hadn't seen it since it first came out in the theatres and had forgotten what a good and interesting movie it was. Always weird to see Philadelphia on the screen, but comforting in a way as well. There's even a scene shot on my beloved Ben Franklin Bridge, which made me a bit misty. We're planning a typical Sunday today. I'm now off to make ratatouille (yes, more eggplant), which will be our snack on the beach later this afternoon. It's looking to be a good beach day; the sun has just creeped over the mountain, and it is already 85 degrees F. The village will be bustling this week as the preparations for the wine festival (held next Sunday) begin. A replica of a traditional farmhouse will be constructed next to the church in the main square. Stages will be erected at the second square, at the top of the vilage, where the actual grape stomping and dancing takes place. The farmers must bring samples of their wine to be tested on Thursday; those deemed the best will be served (for free!) throughout the festival. The Noche del Vino is the big summer showcase for the village, even more important than the feria. More details during the week.... hasta luego, mylifeinspain