BARS. Love ‘em or hate ‘em, they’re the places to meet people, unless you’re into BOWLS or BADMINTON or BELLY-DANCING or can afford to join the BRITISH GAMES CLUB or play golf.
There is one English bar in our small town and four Spanish, so choosing which one to visit depends on which TV programme you want to avoid. BRITAIN’S GOT TALENT (hmm!) or The X Factor send us to a Spanish bar. BARCELONA playing Madrid is a good night to drink English and then shut ourselves indoors with the cat, away from the shouts and groans and the BANGS of fireworks.
El BUHO is an odd place, frequented by a group of BULGARIAN deaf and dumb people. They came over here to sell novelty lighters in the tourist bars, which can’t earn them much as they live ten to an apartment, but presumably is an improvement on their former lives. Their language is silent, but the flickering of hands is strangely disturbing - my instinct is to ask them to keep the noise down, but one can hardly do that!
Strangely, I don’t find Spanish nearly as distracting, and often leave the OH at home while I repair to a coffee-bar - preferably overlooking the sea - to write in peace.
BASURA. At strategic points throughout the town there are wheelie BINS for basura (rubbish) and recycling bins for paper, glass and plastic. They are emptied every day. It’s a good system, much better than having a set of bins for every home that are only emptied once a fortnight, yet there are still people who complain at having to walk those extra few yards, and dump their rubbish wherever they please. There's a B word for them, but it escapes me for the moment!
BANANAS. One of those words that is difficult to stop spelling! The first time I flew into Tenerife, I looked down from the plane window and wondered what the huge sand-coloured areas were. Now I know they are covered banana plantations, and we eat the produce every day. Each banana plant produces one enormous red flower, and the petals curl back to reveal rows of tiny bananas. These grow until eventually there is a bunch of bananas it takes a strong man to lift. I once heard a disgruntled Englishman complain that they were too small. At 50c a kilo, eat two!
BEFORE I sign off for today, thank you to all those who looked at my blog, and especially those kind people who commented.