I was not in a good way when trying to get out of bed. I was reluctant to take another prescription painkiller as Karen suggested I look up the long-term effects of taking them. I decided to try paracetamol to see if that would help.
Moving was painful and I received zero sympathy from the first Mrs Clare again which even in my pitiful state found ironic. In fact, I was berated for taking so long to get myself ready.
We decided that my head wound was not ready to be left open and so I redressed it again before we left the apartment and turned right for the first time this trip.
It was a glorious day and there were plenty of people around. Karen’s type of people I said mischievously reminding her of her Woodcock Road heritage. Honestly, I still not know what possesses some people with their massive tattoos and completely inappropriate attire and this is coming from someone who if you put in a Saville Row suit would still look like they were wearing a sack.
As we walked my back did start to ease a bit. Karen though was struggling after yesterdays longer walk. We got as far as Dos Mil where we stopped for a good hour with some hot drinks. We bickered good naturedly as we sat there trying to sort out some of our financial planning for the future.
Eventually we carried on. I thought the plan was to head to the harbour, but Kaern decided the new large supermarket was far enough for her today. She had a plan for us to buy some food for a picnic lunch on one of the promenade benches. Not sure why as I am sure it would have been cheaper to get a toasted sandwich from one of many bars but who am I to have such thoughts.
Of course, then the challenge was to find a suitable bench which was not in the blazing sun. After one false start we found one down next to the beach and ate our admittedly very tasty rolls with ham & cheese.
We sat there merrily until some old lady asked if she squeeze on the end and gently nudged Karen along the bench. Then 2 minutes another even older couple asked us to move forward so they could sit on the back of the bench leaning against us. I realised we were then on what they considered to be their own local bench. I determined not to be driven off.
After a while I felt something on my foot from under the bench. It made me jump and I wondered if it was a rodent or something. Then a minute later the guy from behind appeared alongside us with a broom which had appeared out of nowhere and was wanting us to move our things so he could sweep all around the bench. I stared at him for a while. He claimed to speak no English. But rather than cause an incident with a very old Spanish man and as we had probably sat there longer already than we had intended we removed ourselves gracefully from the scene. I wonder if he does that every day to get ‘their’ bench. And does he bring the broom with him?
I had hoped to be able to watch the Norwich game on TV but when we got back to the bar we had passed that was advertising it, but the owner said he had cancelled the showing at 3pm as nobody had turned up to watch it. Am I the only idiot in the village? By the time we were back in the apartment I managed to watch the last 3 minutes of extra time.
After a chill on the very sunny balcony and finishing off the bottle of Vina Sol we made our way down to the perennial favourite Pinocchio’s for dinner. There was only one waiter working we recalled from previous visits.
Karen went for the Tipica pizza which was good whilst I went for the Sirloin Steak forgetting that Steak is not really the forte of these types of places. It was just OK without being really tasty. We washed these down some Sangria and Karen finished with another Irish coffee.
As we were leaving, we got chatting to the elderly couple on the next table. He was apparently originally from Cromer, and I think he was on a trip with a new ‘lady’ friend.
Karen was by now really tired, and we were back in the apartment at 10.30pm which is quite late for us this trip.
We both slept well and were fully awoken by Karen’s alarm which she had set for 8am. I got up with a sore stiff back again, but it did feel less excruciating that the day before.
At 10.15am we turned left and headed to Matagorda again. Karen was determined to have less stops this time which she managed helped by the fact as it was Sunday and some of the cafes were closed as we went by.
By the time we reached O’Sheas, the sun was blasting down and there were no clouds in the sky. We had our usual breakfast brunch order followed by more drinks at a different table as Karen sought out more shade. Despite getting permission to move when I asked for the bill, I was presented with one that only covered our drinks. It took an unnecessarily complicated conversation to get them to charge us for the food as well.
Karen really struggled with the walk back. Although our watches were showing a temperature of 22c it was far more than that in the sun. Indeed, the temperature gauges we passed which we that thought were accurate on the outward journey were now showing 37c on our way back. There were lots of stops and even more moans and groans from her as we very slowly got back.
Cutting through to La Penita’s gate we came across a café called Karma that we had not seen open before. It was very pink, flowery and with a sign saying Girl Power. It was very busy and look enticing. As we stood looking in a British couple came out and said that they had just had the best coffee they have ever had in Lanzarote. That was enough for us, and we found a table which seemed to have a cooling breeze blowing around it. We both ordered smoothies which although not cheap were very good.
After time spent chilling, we headed out later to Napolenta again as Karen didn’t again want to walk too far. We bagged another excellent table and after some Canarian potatoes as a starter, Karen went for Spag Bol, and I had Spag Alfredo. They were both excellent and Karen followed this with yet another Irish coffee. The lovely waitress amused us by feeding a pair of parakeets with peanuts.
With that and very exhausted wife we headed back to the apartment at 9.30pm.
Number 54 – The House with the Bamboo Door is not the apartment where we are staying and disappointingly not a song we have heard being murdered as we walked past some of the ‘bars with music’. That’s a shame but I guess it may take a year or two before the ‘singers’ over here add it to their repertoire. It seems old Andy Williams track seems as if it might just start a minor line dancing craze again. Apparently, the dance was just put together for the TV series in which it featured. and we enjoyed.
