8. May, 2016

La Laguna,. Brozas. Spain 08.05.16

08.05.16

Well, yesterday came and went, sadly with no sign of the part for our bike. The lady from the BMW shop rang to say it will not be here until Monday, so we will be staying until then.

Luckily, we have been keeping ourselves amused by spotting Ronnie Corbett lookalikes, visiting the donkey in the next field and dodging the unbelievable amount of rain to visit the nearby lake where there are herons and storks nesting with their young.

At times the bar at the hotel is teeming with people, others there may be one or two persons popping in for a tiny coffee before leaving again.

The people that run and work at the hotel we find ourselves in are friendly and the hotel although pretty basic, does good food, and is sometimes very lively.

Friday evening saw us sitting in the bar with a table of 5 men in front of us, and their 5 ladies behind us. Their talking was so loud and animated that we couldn't hear each other speaking! Elsewhere, when the weather is good we regularly see a group of men and a separate group of ladies taking a walk in early evening, before their dinner, which they generally eat after 9pm. The retired people (jubilados) here seem to really enjoy themselves.

Yesterday was a fiesta (party/celebration day) for Saint Gregorio, which meant the entire town, was closed down and everyone went for picnics and horse displays in the countryside. We were invited, but it was 5 km away, and the weather was very disappointing, so we stayed away.

On Friday we walked into town in search of gluten free bread for me, and visited lots of tiny shops. It was raining, and the streets were packed with many people with shopping trollies and umbrellas. When we entered the supermarkets we discovered that umbrellas are placed in a bucket at the door, but shopping trollies, and indeed the shopping baskets of the supermarket can just be left anywhere in the aisles. Luckily, for us Paul at a foot taller than most, can just look over most of the local's heads to the shelves, to see what's for sale.

That just reminds me of a time, many years ago, when, in Spain we took a funicular car up to a monastery, Santuari de Quedalt. At the top, I paid a visit to the loo. Whilst I was in there Paul held my motorbike jacket for me, and when I came out a coach load of tiny Spanish jubilados had arrived, and were all trying to give him their coats. They thought he was the cloakroom attendant!

I think we're proving somewhat of a similar attraction here, we're not sure that there's many locals left that don't know who we are yet.

We now await tomorrow, to see if that will see us back on the road.