Fiesta Time

16:50 and I decided to pop down to the Red Lion to wait for her only to see her standing on the corner busying herself phoning me. A quiet "hello" (in English) got her attention. "Fancy a drink while I'm here?" I asked. "No, I have wine in my bag, we can drink indoors, it's cheaper". Suited me. And that heralded a quite boozy afternoon and evening. The meal didn't quite go according to plan but the Pinot Grigio did; my fears about being out of my depth in the kitchen were well-founded. But all was not lost, it was edible and there is none left. Next time, a dry run to practice first will be in order. Or maybe I should stick to Paellas. Anyway, after the meal we did hit the town. In a big way and with not a cent of cash between us. Neither of us remember much about the end of the evening except that we bumped into each other at the loo-door here in the apartment during the middle of the night. I thought I was dreaming. Then I woke up at 08:30 this morning feeling decidedly fragile yet a little strange and it took me but a very short while to work out why....I still had my boxer shorts on. Oh-Oh, someone has put me to bed! The dream! It wasn't! She's here somewhere and sure enough there she was soundo on the sofa. She stirred with the words "Te quiero tambien" Music to my ears and to which I responded "do you want some tea?" "No, just water....ohhh my head hurts". "So does mine, here, have some aspirin, where did we go last night? There are tabs to clear today." "I can't remember all the places." As I write I have to admit that at least one bar has not been paid for our drinks because neither of us know where it is. She finally got herself up at 11am, asked if she could borrow a pair of beach shorts, put them on and settled on the sofa as if she owned the place. She phoned in sick and then got on the phone to Madrid and Omsk organising Katrina's arrival back here for a months holiday. Yep, Katrina is coming back. I spoke with her earlier today at Larisa's behest and I have to say that she is now speaking very good English. She arrives at 6am on Saturday and already a dinner date is being organised for the 3 of us at Larisa's place. I don't get to cook....hmmm, I'll ponder that one. My lesson with David at 4pm meant that we left here to go to the Train Station at 3:30, her passing comment as the train arrived....I'll call you tomorrow. This diary has only scratched the surface of what has been, for me, an inmeasurably special 23 hours.