You will not even believe how fast these people speak and how much they want to cook for you. Upon our arrival, the first question popped to us by Mama was, "Tenéis hambre? Que queréis comer?"
Within ten minutes the food was out on the table, I was nodding and smiling at a lot of gibberish I could barely make heads or tails of, and I was putting the unthinkable into my mouth.
Albóndigas. Meatballs. There is no escaping this meat fetish in Spain. It's impossible. I told Mama I didn't like that much meat, but that I'd eat whatever she made me. Five minutes later there was a plate laid out for me, and I just took the plunge. At first I tried to swallow without chewing, then I tried to chew fast without tasting. All I know is that I got two down, chased quickly down with some papas fritas and croquetes.
As to now, I am just marveling in all the sounds coming from my open balcony door- little kids speaking Castillian Spanish, the birds chirping away in the outside trees, and the occasional roar of a car engine down the road below. (The drivers here= loco)
Voy a explorar. hasta pronto