Strange things happen in Spain – I’m not asleep at 9pm. Nor is anyone else. The whole clock of when things happen is like putting the clock forwards at the beginning of daylight savings. The day starts later and finishes so much later. Places open for dinner at 8pm if you are lucky. People sit around Plaza Mayor the very large square in the heart of Salamanca, just sitting conversing with their friends, looking out the windows on those below or catch up with old friends. And these were all taken between 9pm and 9.45!
Eventually the sun decides that it is time to retire for the day and that is when the lights come on. The town transforms. The numerous cafes around the plaza have an interesting glow. And for the record these were taken at 10pm.
Eventually the blue drains out of the sky and all good possum pals go to bed. And so it was for Val and I. Didn’t I say in the title it was the day that never ends? Well that was because we had to get up at 1am to catch a bus at 2am to a small town called Verin. Off into the night we headed to sit at the Estacion Autobus at 1.30. Outrageous. Having boarded the bus it is a wonder that I am alive to tell this tale. Our bus driver had the fidgets. If he wasn’t playing with the radio station, opening and closing the window, cleaning his teeth with a toothpick, playing with the heating he was standing up to reposition himself or scratch his obviously uncomfortable testicles. He veered over the centre line on numerous occasions causing Val to get reacquainted with her primitive startle reflex. And what really amazing was he had even less control of the bus once he stopped fidgeting and put two hands on the wheel. It was with great pleasure we disembarked from the bus at 5.15am. We wished our fellow passengers safe journey and good luck as it was probably going to be needed. I just want to add here, the bus driver had only just started his shift as we started ours. Hmmm.
Anyway, the never ending day was not yet finished. We had to get to our hotel which was located a little out of town on a hill. Google maps (almost as handy as Doctor Google), told us it was a wee walk out of town and up what was probably a hill considering there is a castle next to the Paradores Hotel (they didn’t build castles in the valley you know). So being good girl guides, we planned ahead and thought given the time of day we were arriving and uncertainty of distance, we would catch a taxi from the bus station. Oh, did I forget to mention that no-one in Spain wakes up before 8am. So guess how many taxis were at the taxi stand outside the bus station.
“Just walk along the road if there are none and a taxi will come by” said Mr Fidgit the bus driver. How many came passed? If you said nada you are correct. So up the old roman track or round the long way on the sealed road? Here I was at 6am with a pack on my back walking up an old roman road looking down on the town of Verin as the sun decided it was time to begin the daily activities.
Sorry sun, you will have to wait until later. I’m going to bed. The never ending day has ended!