The murmur of the sea touches lightly on the other side of the window. A while ago I put aside my dreams, and I preferred to look like Maku grips with force to the last three minutes, that will make the alarm sounds. I open the curtains wide. I expected to see a blinding sunlight, tremendous heat stroke hit me full in the face. But all I found was a gray sky, which have escaped the clouds and the blue color. Trust ye never ask the weather man, let alone the internet sites where you predict the weather.
After a long shower we went down to breakfast. The hotel "Rovira is a good place to stay. The treatment is extremely familiar, and is beachfront. Milk, juice, a mini ham spread with tomato and danone ... A great breakfast. The huge aquarium fish decorating the room, stick to the glass to say goodbye.
The beach is completely deserted. Maku, waves and me. It is best to visit the sea out of season. No hassles of people seeking a place to stick the umbrella. No need to try to make the same picture a thousand times because you get into the frame 10 or 11 people who do not know anything.
not every day a beach is completely at his feet. Occasionally, crosses in front of us any athlete jogging, or people without more, requires the newfound embrace of the sea spring. My body is totally relaxed. Finally I find what I came for, my drink of peace. Completely disconnected from the routine. When cutting the long-sleeved winter. Maku still looking for his drink of sun. We are duty. We take to shoot some photos. I was barefoot, I feel free. A sailboat crosses the horizon. Cuesta distinguish where the sea ends and where the sky begins.
hunger comes in waves. The apple mid morning we have burned long ago. We get rid of any sand, and headed to the boardwalk in search of a place to eat. Cambrils back to life. The terraces begin to fill with people. The waiters approach us so we can eat at the restaurant, we finally decided on the least we insisted. Overwhelm me I can not stand to let in to eat at one place or another. Looking at the sky without success a little sun. Find the light in the eyes of Maku. He's happy, it could touch the sky just to raise my hand to see her like that. The waitress, a very nice French, we serve the food. I decide to chicken salad, and golden. To our right two guiris a tiny taste paella. From the back of the restaurant the smell of fresh prawns griddled puts us long teeth. I'm hungry.
Return to the hotel to rest. The coast consumes energy depletes you, relaxes you so much that seems to relocate here for weeks. After falling prey to a brief slumber, we approach the new arena. We strolled through the port. We dream of one day live aboard one of the yachts that grace the stop. I love to live in the sea. It is a dream that lives in me forever.
ended up in the shopping area, and finally retired my old portfolio.
The night wins gradually Saturday. Village streets are once again deserted. We return to the restaurant. The huge aquarium is unmoved. Fish play to get from one place to another glass. Two lobsters with rubber bands on their claws, we nailed the look. They're horrible. The body asks us soup. We called sepia. Salad. A straw. Why did you eat at this hotel. We miss
elevator up to our room. The room is rather small. Old air. Restored old furniture that do not hit anything with the plasma television. On the other side of the window on Sunday promises sun. Prisoners fall sleep with the time change on hand.
SUNDAY.
Eight-fifteen. Yesterday at this time was seven-fifteen. Today evenings later. Sunday does not fulfill its promise. Cloudy dawn again. After breakfast, we left the hotel, and left the suitcase in the car. Suddenly the sun's rays begin to caress her back. The sky bluish gray, and a legion endless clouds warns us that the sun will be hanging up there very quickly. We crossed the avenue and took the opportunity to take a walk along the shore and sit down to admire the grandeur of the sea. My body will take no more than six months without stepping on the sand. It is vital to me as breathing. I have the luck to have married a person who loves the beach almost as much, or more than me. I'm leaving myself accompanying my eyes to the horizontal line marks the beginning of heaven. Here problems are easier to solve, it seems less severe. The breeze smells of freedom. Smells like "everything will be fine." A woman well on in years seems to think what I leaning on his cane. Maku smiles with his eyes closed, sighing to the sky thanks for this blast of heat. Two dogs chasing each other under the watchful eyes of a child who is learning to take their first steps. The beach is full of past, present and future.
The sun was tired of working and re-hiding behind the clouds. The breeze without it is ice cream. We decided to go eat something. The streets come alive. The sun plays out and hide. We do with a salad and croquettes at a local takeaway and eat near the port. We settled on the stairs that descend directly into the water. A guy runs his business from the mobile phone. Three young surfers looking skid on their bikes trying to show off before a group of girls. A boat sails out to sea in search of a better life (or so I imagine). We think also "sail" the way home. The clouds have returned to take over the sky, and we have almost three hours on the way home.
I get in the car with a handful of smiles falling from my pockets, despite the time, I enjoyed as a child of "my friend" the sea. I felt my thanks to the beach we off-season, and would recommend a trip to anyone who needs some peace.
weekend seeps through the rearview mirror. Maku's hand caress. Happiness filled my body drop by drop. Weekends like this make life larger.
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