A tale of two weekends.
It was the best of weather, it was the worst of weather.
Okay, not quite best and worst but there was a bit of a contrast between last weekend and this weekend here in el paraiso natural.
Last weekend Pompeyo and Carmen took us to the beach at Barro, which is a beautiful rocky cove with a wide sandy beach. We stayed at one side for two reasons; it was quiet, and it was next to the chiringuito (the beach bar). As we plodded down the steps to the sand we reserved a couple of the at-that-time-raw chickens and proceeded to do beachy things while the chickens roasted.
Liz, as you can see from the photo, had delusions of mermaidery but we coaxed her off her rock with the smell of roasted meat.
This weekend, well, it was very… um… British. We went with Maria Jesús to Gijón to have a look at El Laboral, the biggest building in Spain, according to Wikipedia (which is never wrong). It was… underwhelming… big but big like a fat kid rather than a basketball player, a fat kid who bullies because he’s really insecure (at least that’s what the mid 20th century let’s-make-it-big-for-Franco style of architecture suggested to me).
After that we went to Candás, for the sardine festival (the one we went to last year, where we sat on the grass in the hot sun and got very drunk). This year people were displaying a Dunkirk spirit, huddling under the sports centre roof to eat their grilled fish and baroña (corn bread).
Tags: barro, beach, candás
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We on the other hand seem to be stuck with heavy showers interspersed with occasional glimpses of sun