The Little White Donkey and a Tapas bar

Tara and Nick go out for a long run this morning. They are training for a half marathon that takes place in the city in two weeks. This is their last long run before the event. I take it easy and head out for a walk in the opposite direction than I’ve been in recent days and try to walk without looking at a map. However, I seem to have stumbled on a purely residential area and it’s rather dull. I am looking for somewhere to eat breakfast so I break out my Google Maps. 

A few blocks over is a city fringe area with a few food places. I choose one that looks open and friendly. I practice my new ordering skills and ask for a ‘tostada con queso y jamon’, a ham and cheese toastie basically. And a large glass of iced juice. No coffee today. It all goes down nicely and I build a bit of rapport with the waitress. I leave her a tip because I’m paying in cash. It’s not typical to tip in Spain.

I need a haircut. I google this place called Splash which is perfect because they don’t require bookings. It’s a few kms away but that’s ok, I have time. When I arrive, the head consultant speaks good English and can instantly diagnose the problem. My mullet has a ‘tail’ that is making the style uneven. I ask for a few highlights as well, and we get quickly down to business. The service is quick and smart. The staff are so knowledgeable and friendly. I leave feeling like a better version of myself, without the rat’s tail, and happy to have had some positive exchanges with locals. It costs about a third of what it would back home.

In the street outside the salon, it’s a bit grimy and ‘Sunday morning’ with signs of Saturday night still evident in the gutters. I hear horns playing and march forwards to find out what’s going on. 

A brass band commands the street. Of course, it’s Palm Sunday. The band is dressed in traditional black and red. The clergy are dressed in their celebratory garments. Children play in the band too. Women, mostly, carry green branches in their hands, as they follow the procession. 

In a side street is a little white donkey. I guess it symbolises purity and peace or something. Being at one with the holy trinity. I wonder what will happen with the donkey? Not much, it seems. After a few minutes of watching, two men simply lift it by the hind legs and shuffle it forwards a few meters. Turns out donkeys are indeed stubborn old things. I am reminded of a piano tune I used to play by Ibert, called Le Petit Àne Blanc (the little white donkey). It’s a cool piece of music punctuated with stomping and ‘eeyores’. Mum and Nick, reading this, will know exactly what I am talking about!

I return home and talk with Tara for a while. It’s so nice to have some quality time I with her after all these years. We have known each other since University days. She has run 17 km today and is recharging with a protein smoothie. I am warding off the desire to sleep, I cannot repeat yesterday when I went to bed for a siesta and slept through to early morning then couldn’t sleep when I needed to. It is difficult adjusting to the time difference, even after several days. 

Tara, Nick and I decide to try a few shops, a Japanese ‘essentials’ clothing shop, UNIQLO, and maybe Zara too. Turns out I’m not much in the mood for shopping so I return with only a small jar of face moisturiser because I’ve run out and the air is really dry here. We submit to the call for food and walk back to their local Tapas bars - just around the corner from where they live. We want to try the bar with 100 Tapas (all one Euro each) but we miss out on a table, as it’s so popular, so go next door and have some good meats and pinchos.

It’s time for a wind down, and we put on a film for the evening. I make it most of the way through before crashing and heading to bed. We have good plans for the next two nights, so an early night now is a good idea.