Oh what a Perfect Day ... or two.....

So there you are sat on the first day of the year in front of a coal fire listening to the rain hammering down and the wind is drawing a gale up the chimney causing your coal to glow red for ever decreasing periods.
And it isn't even tea time yet.

The next day you clean out the ashes, put on many layers and get a lift to your local airport where you wait for a couple of hours before taking off for a 1:55 flight south, piloted by someone you know and by tea time you're 30' off the plane and waiting for a bus.

Sweating, with no space to put the coat, fleece, shirt, tea shirt except where it is.
Sweat, then.
After all, the aeropuerto display board says it 1817 and 17C.
The bus arrives at the time she said it would.
We alight where she said we should.
The hotel is exactly opposite the bus stop, where she said it would be.
The hotel puts us on the 10th floor right opposite the door marked "Presidential Suite".
It's hot. Not warm, hot.
Outside the farmacia sign says 19C and then 2010 and the streets are awash with people all wrapped up unlike us who now have divested a great deal.Don't they realise that if this was August we'd be complaining that it was too hot at this time of night?

The olfactory senses just go into overload and a 1.80 Euro chunk of fabulous pizza is devoured as it's long past tea time.

A wander among the busy shoppers sweats the energy out of me and a Bodega is at the exact point when I'm explaining that I'm very thirsty and need something to restore my energy levels. Lager, Cerveza, whatver they may call it, beer it isn't but it is cold, tasty(ish for lager) and, most importantly, cheap.Then along comes the man with trays of tapas on nicely weathered scraps of softwood.
It would have been rude not to. after all, tea time had been ages ago.

Sadly, TMS doesn't reach these parts so a hot sleep was followed by a very nice, and almost proper breakfast.

On the 3rd day of the new year at 0912 it was 19C.
At the Tram sation it was 21C at 0934.
Alighting from the tram it was still 21C as we traipsed down to the seafront on this beautiful cloudless, windless, wetless day.

Met, as she'd arranged and installed the heat was getting a bit much but going for the t-shirt and shorts in very early January was a psychological step too far. Sandals, though, were deemed acceptable.

Shopping. San Miguel (1.28/litre) Vino something (about the same), food stuffs as directed and a 3G Orange data card and we're back by lunchtime.

But, it's too hot to eat, although a piece of well  traveled Christmas cake did soak up some of the coffee.

A look over the balcony at well wrapped up locals was all that was needed to discard the jeans and don the shorts for a walk along the beach, a paddle for about a kilometre made one wish that one had donned one's cossie, especially when another wanderer so obviously had his.

So, now this day is drawing down and I'm sat in a light shirt and shorts on the balcony tapping at this keyboard, stopping frequently to test the San Miguel and watch yet another trawler leave the gulls behing as it comes hard about to starboard to make it's berthing look so easy.

And the smells wafting past me as I do all this remind me that it's tea time and still as hot as an August evening ought to be.

Now, we're about to have tea because she says we have to and I must stop because she wants this laptop and if this get posted you'll know that the 3G sim card she bought was the right one.

I bet she gets that right, too.