I especially like the ones on the road to El Palmar, which was carpeted on either side with fields of meadow flowers. The yellow roads reminds me of the Wizard of Oz.
I’m quite impressed with the output of our humble phone cameras. Mine isn’t even a smart phone. It’s an old Nokia with a surprisingly good camera and very durable body (It keeps falling out of my pocket, so it better be durable.)
El Palmar is a small surfing beach, as I may have mentioned before. Of course, we didn’t surf. We just sat in the sun debating where we could go and pee. Peeing is a real problem. I think I have a very small bladder. I constantly need to pee.
There was the usual range of hardy Europeans (Germans I think) surfing in the freezing water. I admire Europeans who don’t seem to mind cold water whatever the season. Admire, but have no desire to emulate. There were several there, red and leathery looking, with that painful tan white people get that makes them look like poached lobsters.
An uninspiring look. I think I prefer my own jaundiced pastiness. Besides, there are less chances of developing skin cancer. (Cheerful, aren’t I?)
Then we drove back to Vejer, and debated for a long time where we would eat. On a holiday eating is of paramount importance. This comes secondary to the extreme relaxation.
I wanted to go back to the same restaurant as the evening before (It was really good), but the ex wanted to try some local tapas place.
The ex took offense (irrationally) at the more touristy eateries which was unfortunate. They were quite pretty. The one we eventually settled for had the football playing on the TV and a glump of burly men at the tapas counter. I always consider a TV playing football a distinctly bad sign as far as quality of establishment and food goes. And so it was. Regrettable to be sure.
In Seville we had tried this ‘avant garde’ tapas place. A tiny hole in the wall (I wish I could remember the name), it just had 4 small tables and a counter, really very tiny. The food, however was excellent (all tapas). The highlight being the savory strawberry gazpacho. It was quite unusual and unexpectedly moreish.
Well that’s the last of the dispatches I have from the Vejer frontier.