Returning to the same place every year has many charms. One is meeting old acquaintances. The lady at the newsagent is an example. She sings in between selling papers and magazines. I don't know if she has a sad or happy life, but she has given the impression over the years of being the happiest person in the world.
It is the Fiesta of Santa Tecla and there is an amazing fireworks display from the plaza in front of the church.It begins at 11 pm. We watch it from the balustrade at the far end of the little bay called Playa San Sebastien. There are huge bursts of stars in the shape of flowers, hearts, palm trees, vast towers of sparks which flower and hang a long time in the sky before fading. The sky lights up behind the church on the promentary at the heart of the town and silouttes its baroque architecture. In the morning the ground is littered with spent fireworks cases like half smoked cigars.
The first swim in the morning, before breakfast. We have the beach to ourselves. But we must share the sea, for the sun joins us, throwing a golden path from the east.
There is something fascinating about seeing firework cases on the ground in the morning after a firework display - as if proof that it was all not a dream. I like your image of "half-smoked cigars".
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