Well I’ve been on me hols to sunny Spain and such larks and frolics me and my beloved had on our 25th wedding anniversary but that’s a different story.
I’m afraid I abused the old liver and kidneys a bit. They’re normally pickled in ale but for two glorious weeks they were drowned in euro-fizz, notably San Miguel and Estella and I was nearly a convert to larger, (I know! I share your horror).
Here’s how it happened. I decided to pay a visit to the Roman ruins in Tarragona. Of course being a true Englishman I couldn’t go in the morning or evening when it was nice and cool, good God Noooo, that would be too sensible and too lady-boyish, it had to be after breakfast and in the heat of the midday sun.
Well the nice air-conditioned bus stopped at the bus station and as I neared the exit I got a similar sensation to the one you get as you open the oven door to check on your pizza, a serious blast of hot air. Feck me it was hot, but I was on me holidays and you have to expect that sort of thing in Johnnie Foreigner land, so it was upwards and onwards .
Naturally the ruins just had to be at the top of a hill, so I was a bit sweaty by the time I got to the entrance. Never mind I was in the footsteps of Hannibal and the Punic wars. At first it was an awfully big adventure but by the time I was half-way around, I really didn’t give a flying f**k which emperor had killed who, I just wanted a beer : only I dare not stop in case I dissolved into a puddle of sweat.
Disorientated by now, I wandered out of the ruins into the alleys of the old town -which were very nice but a bit deficient in bars. I did come across a few restaurants and maybe it was delirium that made me mumble ‘Your having a f**king laugh, do I look like a tourist’ as I checked their prices and staggered on.
Despairing by now of finding the bus station and lost in a maze of alleys, I turned a corner and there it was: Nirvana, a little cafe next to a Roman gatehouse in the town wall. Then I had a sign from on high that this was the place I must visit: a sunbeam was shining through a gap in the buildings and lighting up the entrance in an ethereal way-surely Ninkasi the Goddess of Beer was guiding me,(and perhaps Bacchus the Roman god of wine).
Well not being one to offend the gods I wandered over and plonked myself down at a table.
“Hola” as if by magic the waiter appeared.
“Una cerveza por favor “ I said, (probably the most important phrase in the Spanish language that).
After a few moments it arrived, the golden liquid, lovely and cold, in an iced glass and with a free bowl of peanuts, truly a sumptuous feast. Well the first one didn’t touch the sides, the second one almost and the third one I actually tasted, lovely it was too, and here’s a pic.