Sand and Sea

Tarragona came to life this morning, and that was not a disappointment after a pretty sleepy Sunday. This apartment is on the Rambla, the main street of the town, and only a few blocks to the beach which is easily accessible by a clever series of ramps and stairs leading to a crossing high above the railway lines. First thing this morning we managed to find the most amazing mercantile, Mercat De Tarragona. It was a massive building and inside, hundreds of booths that all featured specialties. A huge amount of Iberian ham (hanging from every check out stand, even in the little stores), artisanal food stalls, pastry goodies and meat from every corner of the world. We picked up some fresh fish, a container of mixed olives, and the rest of the fixings for another Nasi Goreng, to last us the next two nights here before the next blast off back to Barcelona for a one night stay before an early morning flight to Edinburgh. Time is flying, as it tends to do when a journey such as this is down to the last five days. We had a long wander down the beach, enjoyed the powdery sand and the sight of many huge tankers sitting on the horizon. Surprisingly, the beach was not that busy and it was really peaceful to have a sit down after giving myself a dandy sand pedicure in the warm water. Feet liked it. Right now it's the heat of the day and we've retreated to the AC to supervise the clothesline containing (hopefully) the last of the laundry until I get home. Spain has been amazing but it also had a few tricks up its sleeve, like deleting a few integral icons off Dave's phone, for no reason at all. One of them was Google Maps so yeah, it was an issue. And for those who don't know, Shaw flagged my email account because it decided it was suspicious because I have been logging on from so many places. It took a two hour chat with a Shaw live agent and a desperate phonecall to Lisa, who took on the Herculean task of logging onto my account and resetting the password from Canada. Successfully. Boy, did she ever save the day, as there are a few essential boarding passes, etc, coming my way. And just when we thought we had it all figured out, Edinburgh's crime department decided that Dave's Visa card was from a Balkin spy. We may, or may not, have a place to stay in the UK. The joys of travel!