Last weekend we were at the farm. Too much work and the
painters in the house have prevented me from posting about it, which is
probably a good thing since it would read like a dozen other posts on the same
subject, but a blogger never lets an opportunity go to waste, so here it is.
There were about a dozen of us. The usual crowd, broadly
speaking. Most of them go to the country for the express purpose of getting up
late, sitting in the kitchen all morning gossiping, drinking beer, and
complaining about their hangovers, rising late from the siesta, and sitting in
the kitchen all evening gossiping and drinking sweet rum. Lunch is generally taken
in the garden, which is the only occasion on which many of them leave the
house, and dinner is a late barbecue which is fun to do but rather pointless as
most people are already full of snacks and beer by that time. The dogs
appreciate the leftovers.
Your blogger, of course, goes to the country to see the
country, to take photos in the (usually vain) hope that one or two will turn
out decently, and to walk or ride around the lakes. This time I took one of the
group with me. He had asked to join me himself, and said that he often went out
cycling with friends, but I suspect he was a bit out of practice. He seemed to
flag climbing the final hill past the Cueva de Montesinos*, and for the last
few miles home the zest had definitely gone. But still, ‘que le quiten lo
bailao’, as they say here.
*Don Quijote spent a night in it and had a series of visions which he later admitted were the product of his confused imagination.
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