trip's start en route our first full day Playa del Inglés beach Getting re-acquianted with Maspalomas Finnegan's, Playa del Inglés Avenida de Alfereces Provisionales Los Guanches Norteños Lila is 2.5 today Paddy Murphy's, Playa del Inglés Charlie's Ingenio footrace Maspalomas rock climbing grilling in the wind a rainy day Omi Marga's day La Belle drag show Casa Poco, Maspalomas Maspalomas Money Blues Dunas de Maspalomas Restaurante Laurentino, San Fernando Burger Treff, Playa del Inglés Mini-Tren Gran Canaria La Cabaña Park, San Bartolomé de Tirajana Suministros Frutas Y Verduras, San Fernando Charcutería y Carnicería Socorro, San Fernando Pasteleria Bomboneria San Francisco, San Fernando Much Ado About Nothing Low tide in Maspalomas crepes in Maspalomas a feverish day el dia penultimo back to S. F. Deutsche Gasthaus Atlantis, Playa del Inglés Apartamentos Australia, Playa del Inglés Restaurante Las Escaleritas, Maspalomas C. C. Yumbo Bärenhöhle Harrison Electronics C. C. San Fernando C. C. Cita things learned
|
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
|
2004-03 Gran Canaria: crepes in Maspalomas
Monday 1 March 2004
Isaac wakes me up early today, but I convince him I don't want to spend another morning prowling the aisles of the supermercado Cordillo. (Nothing of which I know opens for breakfast or even coffee before 10:00.) A short while later the girls awake, and our morning starts, albeit too early to call Omi Marga.
Rose fires up the Turkish coffee, and I decide it's time to start packing for our return trip (this Thursday). To make this possible I break out the PowerBook and fire up a video ripped from one of the library's DVDs; time-shifted and seriously space-shifted. Packing begins.
After Isaac's amazing performance at Gisela & Rainer's restaurant last night Omi Marga is making sure Isaac gets to help with every stage of making our breakfast.
Breakfast being eaten is an adventure in coördinating plates and mouths. Isaac has been most thrilled with nut-bread and local honey; Lila likes the creamy cheeses and absolutely attacks the serrano jamon (think proscuitto).
Then it's time for the bus to Maspalomas. Today Lila and I are in the rearmost seats, getting the best view and the bumpiest ride (which we love). Rose and Isaac were near the front; Rose moves him to the frontmost seat when he complains of feeling nauseous.
Yours truly, fill flash, appears once again in his own web pages. If this frequency keeps up it'll no longer be novel. My beard needs trimming, and I with only a few days before we're leaving I find myself far too lazy to waste time at a local barber.
Walking from the parada de autobus to the faro I realize that the skies are clear to our left and right; the only clouds are a line just above our heads. Curious and curiouser.
A coconut vendor - something we've never seen here - hawks his wares. How could I not just once enjoy such a thing? A de luxe €4 later we've watched him crack it in half with a rock, we've sipped very sweet coconut milk, and I'm chomping away.
Check out the coconuts on her!
The low tide is even better today than yesterday. The beach water is warmed by the sun and just perfect for the kids. Lila decides against her bikini today, opting for the full nudist treatment (just like her brother).
They spy an abandoned dig and adopt it, getting to hide from the parents whilst getting good and sandy. (Shampoo takes care of it later; you should see the sand in our hotel tub.)
As we wait for our lunch to arrive - at the Restaurante Las Escaleritas - Lila spots someone in the trees. We point, he waves and rocks the palm trees wildly. He's trimming the old fronds from the trees. (The ones on the left aren't yet trimmed.) That's his saw hanging from a rope on his waist. The paella and the chipirones arrive; both are excellent.
Isaac has been eyeing the crepe stand the last few days. Today the timing seems right. He chats up the crepette and orders a crepe with banannas, nata (whipped cream), and liquido de chocolate and gelatto de chocolate. It arrives with a dusting of powdered sugar.
Here we're at the chew-on-the-fork-and-break-it stage. There are several other stages, none of which actually involve eating the crepe. I have to do some urging as things approach thermal equilibrium.
Lila has been pontificating non-stop, wildly gesticulating with her ice cream cone.
Isaac decides to demonstrate his mean faces when the camera is handy, so here's one for your pleasure...
... and here's another, with two hands of emphasis. (I wish he'd have given me time to switch the camera to macro mode to get all this in focus. Practice, practice.)
As we're leaving the Maspalomas promenade we pass Serio, a watch-seller from Senegal. We wave and smile every day; we've chatted a bit. A most friendly guy. He's told us that he feels cold here (and dresses accordingly). I'll have to check out what Senegal is like in the summer.
Tomorrow we're going to eat in a fisherman's shack. But it doesn't come to pass. Read about the strange twists of fate in a tale entitled a feverish day.
 |
previous |
next |
 |
|
subscribe