EuroYankee

Islands are strange places. People lay on white beaches all day surrounded by gorgeous blue water and topless women. At night they go a little wacko. Ibiza was a strange mix of Italians, Germans, Brits and an occasional Spaniard. Everyone seemed alarmed that we preferred to be talked to in Spanish. We pretty much did it all: sunburns, clubbing, alcohol consumption, cultural tourism. Pictures will be posted forthwith. Too bad I can’t post video taken of a girlfight in which I was involved.

Have I been in Alicante before? My memory tells me yes, but nothing looked familiar. The beach looked more gorgeous than I remember it and I don’t remember a castle being perched on the hill above the city.

Alicante (a two hour train ride south of Valencia) must have the only castle in the world accessible by elevator.

We did a little city sightseeing and then hit the beaches north of town. I got some slivers of sunburn, but avoided becoming a peeling mess. That was key since tomorrow we fly to the Mediterranean island of Ibiza.

Several things will happen in the next week that might make for sporadic postings: My laptop will finally go to the shop to see if it can be freed from the gigantic ergonomic keyboard that is keeping it alive; Elizabeth; Ibiza; and Joyces.

While posting might be sporadic, there should be enough adventures and pictures in the next month to keep everyone amused.

I’ve fully recovered from the stomach flu. Need proof? I ate a large bowl of coconut-raspberry-pistachio ice cream yesterday. Delicious. Here’s a blurry photo taken from inside Glasol, an ice cream shop near my apartment.

Just saw something really disturbing at the coffee shop. A woman dumped a packet of sugar into her fresh-squeezed orange juice.

Many neighborhoods in Valencia have indoor markets where vendors sell vegetables or fish or bananas from small stands. One can find nearly anything at the markets (including delicious cheddar cheese from the UK) except portabella mushrooms and fresh soybeans.

 

Got some good, American food in the mail from my mother the other day. A half dozen German dinner guests watched in horror as I squeezed florescent yellow Kraft “cheese” onto macaroni. And ate it. Yum. But can’t say I enjoyed the stomach ache. Reading the package, it appears that by eating half of it, I had 60 percent of my sodium intake and a plentiful helping of all-American saturated fat.

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It’s too warm to concentrate on work, but not yet warm enough to fully enjoy the beach. Each morning I peek out my window to find out the temperature in celsius. The morning temperature has hovered around 20 celsius (68 F) for several weeks now. Which is perfect, By afternoon it will get into the mid-to-upper-20s.

Spaniards litter unabashed and allow their dogs to shit on the sidewalks. Each day the city sends crews to clean both the streets and sidewalks. Which reinforces that it’s okay to make a mess because someone will come along and sweep it up.