The class lunch was an epic affair. We wandered back to Calle Cartagena and piled into a small, almost unnoticeable restaurant. After a few moment of discussion with the proprietor, jugs of beer arrived closely followed by the first course - Mussels with a light salsa served in the shell.
It was two o'clock and all was well.
The beer flowed and the conversations ranged from one subject to the next and back. The second course arrived - Jamon and Manchego.
The house elf shuttled back and forth and more jugs of beer arrived and every time you finished your bread roll, another would magically appear.
The courses continued to arrive and by three-thirty we were 5 courses down and preparing for the main event.
Three huge cast iron paella dishes arrived with what the Gorse Fox could on describe as a paella-soup. All of the usual paella ingredients seemed to be there, but is was served in a seafood bisque with huge pieces of lobster breaking the surface. Though messy, this proved to be absolutely delicious.
It was four o'clock and Capt. Picard and a couple of German colleagues were getting worried about getting their flights.
GF and the others paid our bill, and grabbed a taxi to the airport. GF was in no hurry - he had several hours to wait, but the others were cutting it fine. He hopped out the taxi at Terminal 1 and left the others to complete their journeys.
Despite warning of Bank Holiday chaos - the airport was relatively quiet and GF was soon sitting in the VIP lounge, sipping on some sparkling water, and watching the activity on the airfield.
He finally got back to Gatwick about ten o'clock and drove home. It had been a very nice day - but it was lovely to get home to the Silver Vixen.
No comments:
Post a Comment