Nothing seems to have changed here in Sitges. Even the computer on the reception desk has been awkward as last year, but has yielded to my ministrations.
People on the beach spread fat on their bodies and gently cook in the sun until the crackling has achieved the desired crispness.
Palm trees in the breeze fanning their shadows with their giant spreading fronds.
paella ? cava ?
Paella, no. In these parts they have soemthing called Fiduea, very fine noodles cooked with shellfish, octapus ink, which makes everything black. There is also arroz negra, also cooked with octapus and shellfish.
Cava is the local wine. We haven´t drunk any yet, preferring the local rosado. But we did encounter a bottle of Cava buried up to its neck in the sand at the edge of the sea, too keep it cool.
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