Our Adventures Across Canada, US, UK, and Europe
Straight from the little Spanish restaurateur’s mouth:
“Paella with maiz (corn)?”
Astonished expression.
“That is NOT paella!”
Then she almost snorted, and we both laughed.
I guess that makes it official! Real Spanish paella never, ever has corn in it.
We’re thinking of going out to Sa Calobra, which looks absolutely stunning and we hear is absolutely worth the trip, day after tomorrow. We also heard there is a crazy mountain road to get to it, so I looked it up and found this on YouTube.
I think I would be having a white-knuckle ride in the bus, but think…hope…that riding in the car with Jeffrey at the wheel (in a stick-shift VW Golf) will be ok…at least, most of the time!
Aside from the crazy driving, the other thing that absolutely gets me about this crazy road is the number of crazy cyclists on it! Oh, and I love where the bus driver actually honks at someone so he can get by, somewhere around 12:20.
What do you think? Could you ride this road?
ea/
Es Trenc Beach, Majorca, Spain
Well, we’ve been so busy running around and seeing things and getting sunburnt and discovering yummy food and all kinds of other stuff, I’ve not really kept up with this blog!
We’re in Mallorca, aka Majorca, right now, off the coast of Spain in the Mediterranean Sea. It’s amazing!
AirBnB is working out well for us thus far. So is Orange, the service that I’m using for my cell connection. 20 Euros gets me 2 GB. Pretty good, eh?
Here’s a picture of the beach we went to today. Tomorrow: the big cathedral in Palma de Majorca that was first started in the 1200s!
So today we decide to try out the Metro (subway) to get to our planned adventures. We’re heading out of the station, and as we turn the corner to get onto the escalator, a young local guy shoves his way around and past me and jams up right behind Peter, as if he’s in a hurry.
We’re walking up on the left side, past people who are standing on the right side, just like we do at home. I watch the guy in front of me, and at first I think he’s kinda pushing on Peter’s behind to move him along faster, but Peter wasn’t responding with anything like I would like a guy would respond with if someone was shoving him upwards on his butt, so I looked closer.
Suddenly, I realize that the guy is in the motion of unvelcroing the flap on Peter’s left-side shorts pocket, where his camera was, and reaching in. Peter’s not responding at all.
I start yelling at the guy, and grab him by the arm, just as we’re reaching the top of the escalator. “Get your hands out of his pocket,” I think I said, but I’m not sure.
The guy jumped a mile, and immediately started denying he was doing anything, but a lady who spoke English and who had been standing on the right side of the escalator had seen it all, and confirmed that she had seen the guy picking Peter’s pocket…or at least trying to.
For some reason, the guy didn’t run away or anything; he just stood there while I yelled at him, and Peter checked his pockets, and everyone else in our group crowded around, while the rest of the crowd flowed on past and out of the station.
Once Peter confirmed that nothing was missing, and Jeff and Joanna quickly checked their stuff (my bag was clipped shut and I could easily see it was still clipped shut), I let go of the guy’s arm, and he bolted.
Peter said he did actually feel something, and just thought that someone was pushing against him…which makes sense.
I was reflecting on it afterwards, reliving the moment and wondering why he didn’t take off right away. And then it hit me…I think I was holding his arm awfully hard, and then, very quickly, we had the other three surrounding him, too.
I guess being a bass player comes in handy sometimes?
What a close call…but again, all’s well that ends well, and we learned a valuable lesson.
ea/
(For the backstory, see this post…)
After a great deal of sleuthing (thank you Nancy Drew novels and Internet information overload), followed by furtive messages and secret handshakes, I finally found Papa’s.
Well, almost.
We’re booked for dinner at 9 pm tomorrow night (that’s normal here; many restaurants don’t even open until 8:30 pm) for a semi-private meal with a Michelin chef who is completely chill about all our food restrictions!
But…
We don’t yet have the actual address.
We’ll find out tomorrow, when we need it.
I can’t wait!
Eventually, I’ll get all caught up on all the bazillion things already I want to tell you about…and this will, I already know, be one of them.
ea/
