In one of our errands up the hill, Jan suggested that I break up the journey by stopping at a café bar. Handily placed at the top was L’Espigo overlooking the hills with railings and rolled up plastic curtains. I asked for a coffee and got a orange juice for Sam (although I was later to find that the purity of the juice was a bit too acidic and caused him red bottom). The staff were friendly and would subsequently wave to us when we passed with the shopping.
In the café, I saw a couple who used the pool. I asked them if they knew of a playground for the kids (the house owners told me there was one with outdoor gym facilities) really just wanting to start a conversations with someone in the holiday community. They thought that there may be a park further on the right hand side of road. The guy said he calls in this café bar to get away. When I found the park, it was hardly the sun faded set of facilities I was expecting. There was a zig zagged trail path which unfurled into a well maintained park. It had an onsite warden who was presently pruning a rosemary plant. There was a kiosk where it would have been possible to sit and have a beer while watching Sam play (I didn’t succumb, having the job of seeing that the sunhat stays on Sam’s head). I wonder if this would last in Spain – my local park at home has desisted from a lot of maintenance like planting flowers under spending reductions; here’s hoping parks like this withstand any coming austerity cuts.
In the evening we went to a ground floor restaurant where it was soon apparent that the staff were overwhelmed by the number of people needing to be served. Regularly, a group would go to sit down at a table next to us to be told that there is an hour’s wait until the next meal. They all decided to go elsewhere. A hungry Ed and Sam soon got restless and hungry. When the meals eventually came, Jan pushed it away on realising that it contained mushrooms, a source of allergy. When this was mentioned to a waiter, he consulted the chef and then confirmed, yes, there were mushrooms. The waiter was already at another table when Jan asked ‘Is that it?’ A long exchange followed with the staff, incorporating comments about their attitude and Jan was refunded the money for the barely touched meal. At least we spoke to a Welsh couple who were able to tell us where to go to catch the coach to Santa Polo.
This restaurant seemed to lose heart thereafter. I noticed it was half full the next day and then subsequently closed.
Sunday 28th August 2011
Sam was a great hit at the pool today. He took an interest in the birds that were tottering around on the tiles by the walled hut and aspired to have a closer look. I took him out of the swimming pool but the birds ultimately swooped off. His talk (which really amounted to repeated usage of the word with a pointing gesture) began to prick up the interest of the local ladies in the pool and he became the centre of attention. Will this be the only time that an interest in our feathered friends woos the interest of the opposite sex? I knew that if I strode around the pool in a polyester/spandex swim suit talking about this subject, I would not get any interest except as a cause for curiosity
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