The Indiscipline of will.

After the blog writing, whilst a solo jogger was jogging along the seafront, it was decided that a trip to the chocolate museo and factory was the order of the day. It is free and I was in no way inclined to disagree. With the cool here by the beach one becomes convinced that two shirts and a coat would be wise. By the time you’ve crossed the road above the escalators you’re not sure. Once you’ve crossed to the other side of the tracks you are totally convinced that you are overdressed.

Oh, well, plod on, it’s not far and there’s chocolate at the end. In the queue there’s another English couple from York and the ladies immediately converse, the blokes wander about aimlessly pointing cameras at anything rather than strike up a conversation. Exactly on the hour, as published, the gates open, and a lady invites us in asking us our nationality and proceeding to give bilingual talks. Mostly history about the factory being run by the fourth and fifth generation of the originators family but she was noticeably more reticent about what was going on in this state of the art factory. I’ll spare you the detail but I think I managed to impress the man from York, it was probably my James May shirt but I recognised the colours of the pipework from a previous life and was able to work out how the chocolate was kept hot as it was piped along, the motors were fresh water cooled and the whole lot was controlled by hydraulics from a computer driven valve chest. It was an example of exquisite fluid control systems, alas all anyone was really interested in was testing chocolate.

Now, a few nights ago we suffered after a bout of over indulgence and I for one was determined not to overindulge this time. I was not alone in this. However, being presented with a selection of the most wonderful confectionary was a temptation too far, especially when some of the nationals were going at it like it was their last meal and the tour lady was ever so insistent that we join in. This we did. I can report that every piece was excellent but the 70% Puro which we got to last of all is deceptive.

At first you can’t believe your taste buds but the flavour softly melts into your very being and you find it essential to see if the sensation is repeatable and measureable, to be scientific about it. It is. It also takes quite a few minutes to realise that more than enough was quite a few pieces ago. These Spanish must have an exceedingly sweet tooth to cope with so much sugary confectionary let alone all the pastries and sweet things displayed in the pastellerinas.

Not much jogging this afternoon.

Not much of anything for a while.

A cup of tea, maybe.

Later.

Photo 21: One Lorry load or two? Sugar being pressure fed into the fluid control system ....