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| Early morning coffee |
| 07.29.04 (9:01 am) [edit] |
The great thing about being at home *and* on holiday is getting up in the morning and thinking “what shall I do today?” I love the thought of a whole day ahead to use however I feel. Whenever I’m not working I take off my watch. I get up when I wake up, eat when I'm hungry and sleep when I’m tired. Simple pleasures.
One of the things I love about living here is that you can watch a place waking up in the mornings. I never noticed it in UK, probably because I always lived in cities there where there’s a constant buzz which just quietens down during the night. Here though, you can really feel and see a place starting a new day.
Yesterday I woke up really early and decided to go to the coast, to the town we used to live in, and watch it wake up. People (generally) start work at 10 a.m. here, but if you know where to go you can find cafés open early. I knew where to go. By 8.30 I was sat alone outside the Café Real, the sun just starting to creep across the square. Inside the café were the two Guardia Civil officers you always see at that time, having just finished their night shift they stand at the bar drinking coffee laced with brandy and smoking strong black tobacco. The street cleaner was the first person I saw outside. Head bowed, eyes to the ground he cleared yesterday away. By nine o’clock there was a trickle of people passing through the square, which was now only half in shadow. The noise from inside the café was building, people shouting their orders, waiters shouting at each other. Even from outside I could smell strong coffee and cigarettes. By 9.30 the square was awake. People with arms full of paperwork rushed across it, others with dogs ambled or stopped to sit for a while in the sun. A woman with a mop was standing outside an office building smiling the working in, re-mopping the step, smiling the next lot in. I could hear the grinding of metal on metal as shutters were pushed up to show shop windows behind. Chairs scraped - workers left the café, replaced by tourists. A man looked at his watch, shouted for his bill and stood to leave. More followed. I heard the church clock strike ten and thought, “what shall I do today?”
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posted by: SusanofPudlin (reply)
post date: 07.29.04 (1:13 am)
What a lovely magical description! I can almost smell the coffee, see the wrinkles on the brow of the mop lady. Can I come watch the day unfold with you soon???
posted by: lynne (reply)
post date: 07.29.04 (6:18 am)
mmmmm. I am with Susan on this one. What a magical description. I feel like I just got a free trip to Spain :)
posted by: fotocali (reply)
post date: 07.29.04 (10:16 am)
You absolutely must -- no really, you MUST -- see the 1959 Jacques Tati film, "Mon Oncle." It presents two worlds: the modern chrome and plastic fabricated superfascia of the day, versus the charming old Euro world as you describe (right down to the streetsweeper). No no, you MUST. MUST i say! MUST see that film. (And do tell me what you thought of it once you do.) It's as charming as charming gets.
posted by: librarianguish (reply)
post date: 07.30.04 (9:18 am)
Wow, sounds wonderful!!! I can picture it quite vividly in my mind. Thanks for sharing :)
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