Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Spain Day 14 Sweater Weather

It’s actually a little chilly here this morning.  You can tell how much my perspective has changed when I call 70 degrees chilly.  Growing up in the fog off the Straits of Juan de Fuca 70 was considered quite balmy.  Out came the shorts and barbecue and my mom would bake a chocolate cake with vanilla butter cream icing and we’d spend the day at Lake Crescent.  Which now that I think about it was filled by melting glaciers so no wonder 70 seemed hot.

It’s been in the mid eighties every day.  Not a problem if you’re used to the Pacific Northwest where as soon as the sun goes down it cools off and you get a break from the heat.  Here I go to bed and it’s 87 and I wake up at its 77.  Which is why 70 feels so darn chilly.

I hope it doesn't sound like I’m whining because we are enjoying the weather.  Loving it actually.  But every now and then it would be nice to come home, open the door and feel like I’m stepping into a refrigerator.  But alas, no air conditioning. 

We’re not in the cheap seats here, in the apartment.  If you didn’t sense my delight in this place when I made my first post way back two weeks ago, let me tell you now….It is splendid.  Our hosts are very artistic; walls are filled with gorgeous photography, everything is pleasantly arranged.  The furniture is heavy wood; antique armoire’s,  beautifully honed chairs, lots of art they’ve collected from their travels. 

apartment art 049

In our room there is an armoire, an elegant wood writing desk, an old fashioned bicycle, a massive urn filled with ivy, and books, lots of books.  The dining room has life-sized busts on the wall.

Mataro apartment 060 Mataro apartment 058

There are four(!) sets of 12 feet high French doors.  The ceilings are 13 feet high with ornate white painted wood moldings.  The rooms are airy.  I feel a little bit like I cheated them when they got my four bedroom farmhouse turned beach house on Port Madison.

The point is; no one uses air conditioning.  Shops and most of the restaurants, but not people’s homes.  I have yet to see an AC unit stuck in a window and since most of these places were built a hundred or so years ago it seems unlikely that they have central heating and AC. 

So, we sleep with the balcony doors open at night and with the shades unfurled and a fan on during siesta.  We sleep well.  We’ve embraced siesta.  It’s nice to have a little break during the heat of the day and since we’re a family of night people we’re perfectly happy eating at 10 pm after we’ve strolled the ramblas for a while.  We tuck the kids in at 11:30 their window open to the street three floors down where people are still out talking.

So,  I’m feeling a bit chilled and need to dig a sweater out of my carry-on bag that I never unpacked because it is filled with stuff like sweaters.  And then I might make a cup of tea and sit on the terrace beneath the olive tree and eat freshly baked bread drizzled with honey we bought from the monks.

Buenos diás.  Have a good day.

2 comments:

threadvine said...

Wow, what a fabulous place!

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