I was pottering about Pinoso today for one reason or another.
I had to go and put some money in the bank for my boss. I didn't have an account number but when I went in the bank they just did it, they knew the man, they knew his business and they knew his account number.
Driving down a side street in town I had to give way to a car coming the other way. The car stopped and the driver wound down her window to say hello to me. It was one of the members of the local neighbourhood association.
In the Post Office the postie asked me if I could drop off the mail for our next door neighbour to save him the trip as I would be going there anyway.
I put an advert on the local TV station asking if anyone fancied swapping English conversation for Spanish conversation. I got two replies within half an hour of the advert going on and I met one of the people, Reme, this afternoon. Ah, she said, I've seen your car driving around. It's a very pretty car.
It's all rather nice.
An old, temporarily skinnier but still flabby, red nosed, white haired Briton rambles on, at length, about things Spanish
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