Blogs in this series

Life in Culebrón is a disconnected series of pieces about the banal and ordinary of everyday life in an inland Alicante village seen from my very British perspective.

Monday, July 13, 2009


Each year the Culebrón Neighbourhood Association arranges a meal. We eat under the pine trees in front of the village hall. That's where we were on Saturday evening. As usual people were keen to greet us and Maggie explained time and time again that her contract time in Salamanca was now over and she had a new contract in Cartagena. Our travel and living arrangements were discussed over and over. But with that conversation ended we all looked at our feet a while, shuffled and then remembered an impotrtant appointment with someone else three or four metres away.

When it was time to grab a seat at the table we were, as usual, carefully but courteously edged from the centre towards the ends of the long table. Left to our own devices. But, the President of the Association was waiting for her family to turn up which they finally did something like an hour after the arranged kick off. They took the spare place settings at the end of the table so that, suddenly, we were no longer the outcasts but surrounded by Spaniards. We munched and chatted the evening away through a mixture of prawns, dried fish, savoury eggs, squid stew, pork stew, chicken with garlic and a few bottles of wine, beer and water. A pleasant evening.

Our pals, John and Trisha Moore asked us if we fancied Sunday Lunch with them at the campsite on the Jumilla Road. We said yes. Rachel our houseguest had been with us for the village meal and now she was to see a little part of the way that we Brits in Alicante transport our homeland with us. I had fried Camembert, roast beef with appropriate trimmings and the cherry and apple crumble to finish. We munched and chatted the afternoon away. A pleasant afternoon.

No comments: