Life and living in Southern Spain by David Robson.

The adventure begins - 6

Eventually, breathless and by now, weak with hunger, we found the reception area. "Donde es la restaurante", enquired my wife.

"Que" responded our erstwhile refugee from "Fawlty Towers".

I repeated her question, this time louder and in English, as you do in such situations: "Restaurant! - where is the restaurant?"

A further blank look.

Anne, who is much more patient soul than I, carefully explained that we had been travelling all day and unless he wanted two old corpses on his hands, leading us to food was a priority.

This necessity gradually sunk in, and he led us off again.

Fortunately, this time, his destination was just around the corner.

Unfortunately, what he took us too was the by now, the cold remains of what had once been a hot buffet, several hours ago.

There are several words to describe what he was pointing us toward, appetising wasn't among them.

It quickly became apparent that any food on offer was before us.

Further choices were not an option, and that was that, take it or leave it. 

We decided to leave it . . . . . .hey ho here we go!

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