Most of the places I go to are strictly native speaking, I’m cool with that and have mastered “I’m sorry but I cannot speak” Italian, French and Spanish, in their national tongue. Of course it doesn’t stop them wittering on in their native dialect, to which the encounter either descends into the Google translate app, or a game of charades.
Trigueros is a one horse town without the horse! I like it though, this is not a place Brits abroad come to, and hence the English language doesn’t feature highly on the list of importance for the locals.
On our travels, Rachel always used to be a bit ‘wide eyed’ at my choices of local cuisine, I’d rather try my hand, or should I say mouth, with local fare, isn’t that part of the experience of travel? I must admit that I’ve had my bum bitten on a couple of occasions, in more senses than one!
But getting back to where I am now. A little bar restaurant was recommended to me, so after a beer to kill time until food got served from 9pm, I used translate to leave it to the barman to choose my food. I included I liked meat, fish, chips & potatoes.
On arrival of my two courses, two things were immediately apparent, firstly, I know where the horse went! Secondly, fish. In England we think of fish as cod, salmon, trout, even prawns and mussels. But my plate obviously contained something quite different, no it wasn’t a huge albatross egg, oh no, this was fishy, in more ways than one! You can sprinkle and fry tentacles as much as you like, but this was definitely not a fish dish I was accustomed to!
So far, so good…….
