Hopkins Village, Belize

Belize was not a destination on my bucket list of places to visit.  From the couple of people I had known to have visited there, it sounded a little too resorty kind of place, crowded, and touristy.  This is not that appealing to me. When my husband mentioned he would like to go to Belize on vacation, I was reluctant.  Even a little more reluctant when he said he would plan everything.  I always plan the trips.  For me, planning is just as fun as taking the trip. However, I went along with uncertainty of not knowing what was in store.

One evening after dinner, he places his laptop in front of me, and says I think I found where we should go in Belize. He says it is right on the beach, it is affordable, and it has a good restaurant.  He knows I will approve, if my appetite is happy. I looked at the website for the hotel he chose. It was called Beaches and Dreams in Hopkins Village. It is classifies as a boutique hotel.  I will admit my first impression was not a favorable one. It wasn’t what I think of when I think of a boutique hotel. It looked a little more basic than what I sometimes like. I was not convinced this was the right place.  The rooms were reasonably priced (starting around $160), especially for being right on the beach.  I took to the internet to see what it had to say. My first place I go is TripAdvisor.  TripAdvisor had it listed as the number one hotel for the area. Not that there a lot of hotels in this area, but it made me feel a little better about his selection.  Then I began reading the reviews, which were all positive about the hotel, from the food, the service, and overall experience.  Now I was getting a little excited about the idea of this trip.  Perhaps not one I would have planned, but one I think I might enjoy.  We booked our room for a week trip in February.

Hopkins Village is a coastal village in Eastern Belize. In order to travel to the village, we flew to Belize City. From there caught a local airline (which is basically a Cessna plane) to Dangriga. Where we were picked up by a driver sent by Beaches and Dreams to drive us about an hour south to Hopkins Village.  At this point in time I pretty much felt I was off the grid.

We were greeted by Angela, one of the owners.  We were escorted to our room, provided water and beer, and told to make ourselves at home. Happy Hour began at 4 and dinner at 5. She had reserved us a table.  We opened our bags, changed into our swim suits, and literally took about 10 steps to the beach and plopped ourselves into a beach chair.  The beach white and sandy, the sound of waves crashing, and the palm trees swaying.  We were the only ones on the beach. This was my little piece of paradise. The location of Beaches and Dreams is excellent, because they are at the end of the beach.  Beachgoers cannot walk further because of trees that block access.  So there is very little foot traffic or crowds of people walking by. Also because the hotel is so small, you are not having to beat the other guests to get access to the hotel beach chairs. For me it just added to my relaxed beach experience, and felt like I had my own private beach.

 





Our beach cabana was not directly on the beach (these were already booked). The room was very spacious with a nice size shower. There were no extra frills with the room (bring your hairdryer), but it was clean, comfortable and quiet.  To be honest with the beach just steps away how much time would we really be spending in our room?

Tony, Angela's husband and owner, is the chef of their onsite restaurant Barracuda Grill. Tony and Angela owned a restaurant in Alaska, where Tony was the chef and Angela the pastry chef.  They sold this and moved to Belize. Who wouldn't trade snow for sun?  You would think that Tony is a native. His use of spices and way of cooking tastedso local. Fresh fish that was caught that day and amazing smoked meats. We only dined out once for dinner during the stay, and this was because the Barracuda Grill was closed that day.  The restaurant we dined at was a French restaurant, was upscale for the area, but nothing compared to The Barracuda Grill.  Barracuda Grill seriously has some of the best food in the village, and every dish was amazing.  You have to save room for Angela’s dessert. These are amazing as well.

As for activities, there are plenty of stuff for every type of traveler, from explorer, thrill seeker, and those who just want to relax. (This last one is me). Angela and Tony provide you personal service and pretty much will plan any activity you want to do. If you are a planner like me, then you are just going you have to leave that trait back home. This is Belize. There is no schedule. You provide them with what activities you want to do when you check in. Based on weather, who is available to drive, who else wants to go where you want depends on when you go. We were fortunate enough go to the Mayan ruins (couple hour drive) and diving on the barrier reef with our own guide.  The cost of our activities is just added to the bill and honestly not overly expensive.  In a lot of other countries where you would have a personal guide you would be looking at spending well over $500. Not the case here.

Outside of Beaches and Dreams is Hopkins Village.  The village is small and does not offer a lot of activities and amenities, but definitely worth checking out. The village is about a 10 -15 minute walk from the hotel.  Just up the road from the hotel you can rent golf carts for around $25, and drive around for a couple of hours.  Be warned, if you drive through the village when the local kids are on their way to school then be prepared for all of them to jump on your cart and go for a ride.  Quite a fun time!  

When in the village if you are looking for a breakfast or lunch spot, I highly recommend you stop by Tina’s Kitchen in the village.  You might miss it, when you go by. The building is probably about 300 sq feet. As I began to learn in Belize do not judge anything by its cover.  A place may look like a runned down shack, but sometimes this is where you find your diamond in the rough. When you walk in you feel like you are literally walking into Tina’s actual kitchen.  The menu is up on the wall on the left, and Tina is cooking up some really good food on the right.  You tell her what you want, and then proceed out the back door to the tables outside. The local chickens will entertain you while you wait for your meal.  When you do receive your, you are provided with fresh local seafood this is where I had Barracuda for the first time, and very fresh produce. Lunch was so good we told Tina we would be back for breakfast before we left.  When we did return back for breakfast, Tina looked surprised, and said you came back!  I am glad we did.  I had the best veggie omelet.  The eggs and the veggies were some of the freshest I have ever had.  I just could not believe just how fresh tasting the meal was.  As we were sitting at the Tina’s, gave it an up and down glance, shook their head a bit of disgust, and road off.  Suckers..you do not know what you are missing.

So if you are looking for an affordable, relaxing, beautiful, amazing food, a destination full of culture and great people, I highly recommend you visit Hopkins Village and stay at Beaches and Dreams.  We recommended this to one of our friends for their honeymoon.  They loved it has much as we did.

A follow-up since we visited Beaches and Dreams have added few new “luxury” rooms and swimming pool.

International Travel: The people that make an impact and make you wonder

One of the things I enjoy most about traveling is taking in the surroundings, observing the culture, and people watching. I enjoy watching people move around in their own surroundings, watching how they move about in their daily lives. . I am a very curious person by nature. While I sit at a café or at a park bench watching the people go by, I am always wondering about the people I watch. What do they do? Do they live in the here or nearby? What do they do? Do they like living here, because I think I would?

 We start our second day in LaGuardia, we head to the town square to a local café. We sit at an outside table sipping our cappuccinos watching the villagers move about through the square. The evening before we had seen a group of older gentleman in the sweater cardigans looking all dapper roaming around the village, moving from bar to bar. It seemed they have been doing this since they were in their 20’s. You wonder if their wives were on the other side of the village participating in a similar ritual, or rather sitting around a dining room table with a bottle of wine gossiping about.

 There was also another older gentleman also dressed in a nice cardigan and looking very dapper, out walking alone in the village that night. He walked by us several times while we ate our dinner. He didn’t make any eye contact with us and his leisurely walks by. I did wonder what he was doing or thinking while out walking around. Why he wasn’t walking around with other group of gentlemen we saw earlier. It was as though he was out for an evening survey of his village to ensure all was good before he heads in for the evening. I wonder how long he has been walking the cobble stones paths of the village. Has the village changed or is it the same?

Throughout the inside walls of LaGuardia are religious icons scattered throughout the walls of the villages. The icons are situated in enclaves within the walls of the village. Nestled away to be secure from the elements, but visible to those who want to admire and perhaps pray. It seems like every corner you turn there is a different religious icon. In the town square, there is a clock at the entrance of the square. Above the clock is another religious icon. I wondered if this icon had more sentimental or religious meaning because of the location in the center of the village. I never really was able to see it, and never got my question answered. Well not truly answered.

That morning, while we were sitting in the square, I see the same man walking alone in the town square. It seemed now he was taking his afternoon survey of the village. He strolled through the square and then disappeared into one of the pathways off the square. I continue to sip my coffee, and with about 15 minutes he strolls back into the square. He never walks close enough to make eye contact. As he gets to the center of the square the church bells began to ring. The man walks closer to the archway where the clock and religious icon are located. He stopped a few feet away from the archway, where he can still look up and see the clock and the icon. He stands takes off his hat, looks up at the archway. He then bows his head. Once the church bells stop, he raises his head, places his hat on top of his head, and begins his walk about the village. As he went through these motions in this very public place, I felt in a way was I was intruding on his personal and intimate space. What was he praying about? Who was he praying for? Was he praying at all?

 In Under the Tuscan Sun, Frances Mayes witness an older gentleman that walks by her house and stops to leave flowers and some type of memorial. As he is doing this she is always wondering what is that he is doing? Who is he leaving the flowers for? At the same time trying to get him to acknowledge her with a wave or a smile. The man at LaGuardia is this to me. Although I never found out anything about him, I did not get any of my questions answered, or a wave, I still wonder. Some days when I am lost in thought, the man enters my thoughts. I wonder if he doing his nightly survey of the village, praying in the town square, or if he is still with us? I will always wonder.

Adjusting to International Travel: Missing Washcloths in Amsterdam

Growing up we always had washcloths.  You used washcloths to wash your face, for bathing, and sometimes for cleaning stuff. To me it is just one of those items you always have around even when you are traveling.  Anywhere I travel in the United States, you always find washcloths as part of the linens that are provided to guests.  The hotel may not provide enough, but at least they provided them for you.  Well that is when you are in Amsterdam.

Usually after traveling internationally, one of the first I like to do when arriving at my hotel is wash my face and take a shower.  To me there is nothing more refreshing and invigorating than washing off a long journey.  So head to the bathroom to wash my face and to take a shower.  I look around the bathroom and there are no washcloths.  I think to myself, well they just must have missed this when they cleaned.  I call down to the front desk and ask if they can bring me some washcloths.  “Oh yes. Not a problem”, I hear on the other end phone.  We will have someone drop these off to you right away.  Great..Thank You, I replied.  Not too long after I had hung up the phone, there is a knock at the door.  There is a nice lady with white folded cloths in her hand.  I proceed into the bathroom, unfold the cloth, and then I think to myself what the heck??  These are not washcloths, these are hand towels.  Well I think, perhaps there was a bit of a language barrier or miscommunication.  For now I will use these, and try to ask for them later.

Several hours later my friend arrives.  I ask if he will call down and ask for washcloths.  Perhaps they will understand what he is asking for.  He receives the same response as I did.  There is a knock at the door, he is handed the white cloths, and he closes the door.  Rinse and Repeat..he received hand towels.  So we begin to think, perhaps they call them something different.  We seek the internet’s knowledge.  If anyone knows the answer to this Google will know.  This time the internets did not have the answers.  We found nothing.  So we tried again.  Phone call to the front desk, and were told yes we will get these to you.  However, this time there was no knock at the door.  We waited a couple of hours. We were watching a moving, so we will just wait.  It isn’t like we did not have a stack of hand towels sitting in the bathroom.  After the movie, still nothing.  My friend calls back down.  I think now someone has realized they have no idea what we are talking about or red flags started going off that half of hotels hand towels are in our room.  The person on the other end says, I’m sorry I am not sure what you are asking for.  We tried our best to explain what they were and give a description.  It shouldn’t really have been this difficult. The voice on the other end says, “We do not have these…sorry”.  It is official there are no washcloths in Amsterdam, and I will just have to make do with the numerous hand towels I have.

I recently read an article by Rick Steves about his travel pet peeves. Although, Rick did not call out washcloths, there were several users that called out the lack of washcloths.  So I am glad to know I am not the only one who feels this way.  However, now I just make sure I pack a loofah and makeup wipes.

Wine Tasting in Caves and Bodegas

        

Our second day started with a nice breakfast at our B&B.  We were scheduled for two winery tours and lunch at a local restaurant. Since we had some time before our first wine tour, we opted to do some more exploring in the walled town.  As you walk down each pathway you just imagine the history of the city and wonder what it was like to walk the paths a 1,000 years ago. You imagine yourself living behind the sand stone walls, and what life would be like.  You see the amount of work and dedication to build this beautiful village.  This is evident at the Church of Santa Maria de Los Royes.  The intricate architect that is just around the doorway of the church.  You sit in aww, and amazement of the detail of the work.  You can see that time has taken a bit of a toll on the walled city and the church. You appreciate how the current generation is proud of their city and doing what they can to restoring the village, but hold on to the history and the charm of the village.  As you walk outside the walls of the village, in any direction you have an amazing view of the valley below.   

Our first wine tour was inside the village called Bodega El Fabulista.  Underneath the walled town run a labyrinth of caves or underground tunnels.  Back in the Middle Ages these were used for food storage and place of refuge for the villagers when the village was under siege.  Today they are used to store and age wine.  They provide a tour of the upper half of the winery, where the grapes come and get crushed.  Then you begin your decent down to the wine caves.  Where hundreds of wooden barrels of wine sit and rest in the dark, cool caves.  You wind through the caves listening to the history and the making of the wines.  You eventually end up in a fairly lit area of the cave with tables where you begin your wine tasting.  It is not every day that you wine test in a cave.  Definitely an experience I recommend you do if in the area.

After surfacing, we headed to our lunch at Amelibia restaurant. The restaurant is across the street from the main gate entrance.  It has great views of the valley and vineyards below.  The lunch was much bigger and heavier than most of the meals I have eaten so far.  Up to this point we mostly were eating tapas.  After lunch it was siesta time.  I love Spain and their siestas! 

Refreshed from our siesta, we went to our next winery tour at Bodegas Campillo.  This winery is on a much larger scale than  Bodega El Fabulista, and not quite as interesting as storing wine in underground caves.  However, the wine tasting at the end of the tour was quite good and the cured meats that accompanied even better.   Another well-known winery not too far away just nearby is Bodega Ysios.  It may be better known for the architecture of the bodega.  The building is quite stunning.  It can be seen from outside the walls of Laguardia.  We did not go inside, just admired the outside.  Marques de Riscal winery is the oldest winery in the region. This is just about a 5 minute drive from Laguardia.  It is probably more well-known now thanks to hotel that was built as part of the winery by Frank Geary.  The modern structure does stick out a bit in the Rioja hills, but still an amazing structure.  If you visit follow the road that goes along the side of the building.  You will drive behind the winery and up a little up in the hills.  You get an amazing view of the Marques de Riscal  and Laguardia in the distance.

I wish we could have stayed longer in Laguardia and explored the region a little longer.  We really enjoyed the village of Laguardia and the people we met there.  I hope that I am able to come back again someday, stay a little longer and enjoy more great food and wine. 

Adjusting to International Traveling: Missing Eggs and Bacon in Scandinavia

When we are at home we become accustomed to our surroundings, belongings, and routine. You take for granted the little things that are at your disposal every day.  When you travel, this all gets disrupted. The surroundings, the culture, what you know is different.  We may pack some of these comforts and bring them with us on our travels, but you cannot take everything.  Traveling is adapting to your surroundings, embracing it, and making adjustments along the way.  My first visit abroad, I had hard time living by this motto.  However, each journey I make, I have to stop and remember I am not home and I just need to go with the flow and make the best of the situation.  You make not always like it, but you do it.  Here are a few of my stories about making these adjustments:

Scandinavia and Breakfast Items

When I was 24 I spent a month in Norway.  During my time there, I traveled across Scandinavia to Russia. This was my first trip abroad.  I was quickly introduced to entirely different culture than what I was used to.  The whole country did not shut down when it snowed, in fact they thrived in it.  There is like 20 feet of snow outside and I am outside driving in it.  CRAZY!  However, the biggest adjustment for me was the food.  It wasn’t that it was radically different, it is just was it was different.  Condiments came in a tube, there was some strange brown butter that did not taste like butter, and they did not have hot dog buns. Although there were these differences, I enjoyed every meal that was prepared for me.  The biggest struggle I had was the breakfast meal.  It is not like every day for breakfast I am eating eggs, pancakes and bacon.  I guess when it isn’t an option, it becomes something you obsess about.

I describe breakfast in Scandinavia a like a combination of a continental breakfast and a Subway. There are breads, jams, what I think of as deli meats/cold cuts, cheeses, fresh vegetables, 1,3,5,10

minute hard boiled eggs.  Before this journey I didn’t even realize there was a variety of hard boiled eggs.  In my world, there was one time of hard-boiled egg.  We also scrambled eggs too, and they are very tasty this way.  This was harder option to find.  Perhaps because they were too busy boiling the eggs. Now there are Norwegian/Swedish pancakes.  These are more like crepes, and served with delicious jams.  These pancakes are not served for breakfast.  They are considered more of a dessert item.  There are delicious potatoes from Denmark, that taste better than Idaho potatoes.  I don't know why, but  they just do.  For some reason, potatoes are not served for breakfast only dinner.  Each new Scandinavia city we visited, I hoped there might be scrambled eggs and bacon, but there never was.  When we took a ferry from Stockholm to Helsinki, we paid for the fancy breakfast buffet.  I was scraping by on the money, so this was big expense for me. Although I had just won a pocketful of rubles in the slot machine, but this wasn't going to buy me a pig and chicken. I just knew when I walked into the fancy breakfast buffet there would be mounds of pancakes, eggs, and bacon piled high. It would be like walking into Denny’s. Cue the heavenly music.

Well my dreams were quickly dashed.  The extra money I spent bought more variety of hard boiled eggs, some fancy fish and caviar, more variety of deli meats, veggies, and cheese, but none of the breakfast items that I dreamed of.  Don't get me wrong, the food was good. When you get your head and heart get stuck on this idea of something, then you do not get it, then it is just a disappointment. 

It is interesting how I became so obsessed on breakfast foods. I am not sure if it was because it was my first time abroad, and I was just homesick. Eggs and bacon were my security blanket.  If  I could cover myself up a little, I would just taste a little bit of home, and would not be so homesick.

I can tell you, after a long journey home, I went straight to Beth’s café in Seattle and had their 12 egg omelet, hash browns and bacon for dinner.  It felt so good to be home.

Stay tuned for more of my travel adjustment stories.  Missing Washcloths in Amsterdam.

Sideways Snow, Truck Stops and the State Meal of Oklahoma

I will admit that most of the time I am a bit of a food snob.  I will drive by some eating establishments that look a little sketchy and wonder who would eat at a place like this.  However, I do know there are some of these sketchy places/greasy spoons that end up having some pretty decent food. Perhaps not 5 stars or Michelin stars, but still pretty good food.  Sometimes you just need to get over the food snobbery and give that place a try.

Over the holidays, I visited my parents in Albert Lea, MN.  For those of you not familiar with the area, Albert Lea is located at the interchange of Interstate 90 (East-West) and Interstate 35 (North –-South).  Needless to say it sees a lot of drivers, cars and 18 wheelers that drive these roads.  Like any good American highway driving, you will always find a truck stop along the way.  Truck stops can be a haven for weary drivers, especially truck drivers on long hauls.  They offer a lot of services; food, showers, restrooms, and a place to stretch your legs.  I would have never considered the truck stop restaurant a go to restaurant, until my recent visit to Albert Lea.

I probably had not been in the car for more than 30 minutes after dad picked us up at the airport, when he began talking about the chicken fried steak at Petro (the local truck stop).  He goes on and on about how good it is, and that he and my mom have been out several times just to have it.  He then suggests we should go out there for dinner during our stay.

In previous post, I have written about growing up in Oklahoma.  According to Wikipedia, “chicken fried steak is among numerous popular dishes which make up the official state meal of Oklahoma added to the list in 1988.” I don’t need Wikipedia to tell me this.  I grew up eating chicken fried steak.  This is my comfort foods, and one of the few dishes I MUST eat when I visit Oklahoma.  I’m sure any kid from Oklahoma probably says this, but my grandmother made the best chicken fried state.  My mom and I tried to learn how to how make it, but it never turned out or tasted as good.  I can never get the crust right or the gravy never turns out right. Granted the preparation is the same, finding that restaurant that makes the perfect chicken steak is very important.  Even then  it will not taste as good as my grandmothers, but it is close as I am going to get. This is why I have given up ordering country fried steak outside of the state of Oklahoma.  It is never cooked right, the gravy is bland, and I end up disappointed. So now you can see why I was a little dubious about my father’s positive reviews of the chicken fried steak at the local truck stop.  Minnesota + Chicken Fried Steak = I don’t think so!  I attempted not to take his recommendation for dinner at Petro seriously, and thought it just might get forgotten.  However, on Monday afternoon when I ask my mother what we are doing for dinner, her response was “Petro, your dad said you wanted to try the chicken fried steak…Don’t you?”.  I was now fully realizing I was going to be eating chicken fried steak, in Minnesota, at a truck stop.

So most of Monday it snowed, and there were moments were it came down pretty hard.  Now if we were in Seattle with this weather, I would for sure have a definite out.  No one ventures out in the snow in Seattle.  However, in Minnesota you venture out no matter whatever the weather is.  10 inches of snow..ahh… that is nothing.  Snow blowing sideways…ahhh… don’t worry about it. A little snow never stopped anyone!

So Monday night, my parents and my husband jump into the SUV, and head out into the frozen tundra, through the blowing snow, and head to the truck stop.  We pull into the parking lot, and my parents remark how empty it seems.  I think to myself this is because all the sane people stayed indoors, out of the snow to be warm and safe.  Although the good thing about this, is we got a parking spot right by the door.  So my trek through the snow to the door was not so frozen.
As you walk into the establishment you are greeted by grand Viking and his shield maiden.  I’m pretty certain I just did not just enter Valhalla.  We make our way back to the bar area to sit at a table
there.  Although I am not clear why we did not sit in the dining area, the bar did make for more of a colorful dining experience.

The menu reads like a typical diner; burgers, pastas, chicken, ribs etc. My dinner had already been decided, so there was no need to study the menu. However, if you are vegetarian, vegan, watching your figure, have high cholesterol and/or blood pressure then this is not the place for you.  The food is supposed to fuel the drivers and trucker patrons to allow them to carry on to their final destination. All I can say once I finished my meal, I was ready for nap and not for driving 200 miles.

Orders are placed, so now it is just sit back wait and listen to some interesting conversations at the bar.  There were probably about 7-9 what I assume to be truckers sitting at the bar.  Conversations ranged from NASCAR, the boss telling him not to sleep in his truck, one complaining about the size of his cab for sleeping (his belly hit the roof), and hearing the waitress being called sweetheart a handful of times.

Finally dinner arrived.  The infamous truck stop chicken fried steak had arrived!  At first look it didn’t look bad.  It was definitely generous portion of steak and potatoes.  Now for any chicken fried steak connoisseur, like myself, what really makes the steak is the crust and the gravy.  At first glance, the steak seemed to have a nice coating and looked good and crispy. The gravy was a white and thick, which is also a good sign.  You would think I was a Top Chef Judge, as I sat and analyzed the presentation, and was silent for my first couple of bites as I savored the flavors in my mouth to make my judgments about this fine steak I was consuming. My critique, was the crust was a little over seasoned with salt and pepper for my taste, whereas the gravy was a little under seasoned. All in all, for a steak in the Northern frozen tundra, it was not all that bad.  I have definitely had worse.  I least enjoyed the meal, and was not disgusted with it.  I can tell you I was a little surprised.  My expectations were a little on the low side, but I managed to be a little impressed.  Now does this mean I will be running out to my local truck stop to eat chicken fried streak??  UMMM..NO!  I can guess though I will be going back to the truck stop on my next visit home, and I am good with that.  Makes for some interesting storytelling.

Dinner is over, my belly full and pretty happy.  The family treks out into the freezing temperatures, the blowing snow, and begin our short journey home.  I’m just thankful we are going 5 miles instead of 200 miles.  As we pass an 18 wheeler struggling to make the hill in the snow, my day is cheerfully says see wasn’t that worth the trip out to tonight?

Laguardia Spain - Dining before 9pm with cardigan wearing bar hoppers

Stepping into the walled town of Laguardia is like stepping back into the middle ages.  This walled town was built in the 10th century, and sets upon a hill and overlooks the valley of vineyards.  When I say walled town the entire town is all within the sand stone color brick walls.  There are no roads inside the town. Just winding walking paths that run through the town.  I can say I have never seen or visited anything like this before.  The town has everything a modern villager will need.  Cafes, restaurants, wine shop, a butcher, and a market.

Finding our B&B was a bit challenging.  Google Maps leads to you to the front gate of the village, which of course you cannot drive through.  I started thinking what have I gotten us into.   We ended up having to call and they talked us through on where to park on the backside of the wall.
We chose to stay at Erletxe, which is a family owned house within the walls of the town.  It is a charming B&B run by several of the family members, which some live on the proiperty.  They were very hospitable and accommodating.  They assisted in planning several activities during our stay, booked a lunch reservation for us, provided a brief history of the town, and overview of the town how to get around and places to eat.

Erletxe offers rooms on the 1st and 2nd floor.  We chose a room on the 2nd floor with a view looking out towards the valley.  The only downside is there a road below, and can be a little noisy in the morning and at night, but was not horrible.  The rooms are cozy, comfortable, but nothing overly fancy. We didn’t spen much time in the room, so it was fine for us.
We arrived around 6pm, and by the time we got settled and got the lay of the village, it was around 7:30is.  By now we are ready to eat. As you probably have heard, Spaniards don’t typically have dinner until after 9pm.  I am usually going to bed by this time.  In Barcelona, we did not seem to run into issues finding place to eat prior to 9.  However, in a smaller town this is a little more challenging. We had c
ouple of restaurant recommendations made by the hotel proprietor, so we headed out to see what we could find.


As we walked through the paths, the town seemed a little quiet.  Just a few other people wondering about.  We located one of the restaurants that was recommended. The door was open, lights were on, and music was playing.  We walked in, and assumed someone might be out in a minute or so to greet us.  Few minutes went by still no one came out to greet us.  We politely said “Hello??  Hello??”…no response.  We waited a few more minutes, and still no sign of anyone.  So we decided to walk around a little more and see if we can find another restaurant. Not much luck finding anything open this early (which sounds doe strange). We returned back to the original restaurant about 20 -30 minutes later.  The door still open, lights on, music playing, but still no sign of anyone.  By now it is probably after 8pm.  We head down the pathway and we see a bar with some tables outside.  There some older gentleman sitting at the bar having a drink.  We ask the bartender if they are serving food now.  He looked a little surprised, but said yes.  YEAH...food. We picked our table outside, and began reviewing the menu.  I do recall a bit of challenge reading the menu, because it was in Basque.  However, we managed to understand some options, and asked if we didn’t. A funny little story about this restaurant. About 5-10 minutes after we placed out order, we see the bartender/waiter/maybe chef too jog out of the restaurant and over to the market across the way.  We saw him pick out a couple of vegetables outside, then he walked inside.  He then came jogging out of the market with a bag in his hand back to the restaurant.  He gave us a little smile has headed back into the restaurant.  Guess he needed some extra ingredients!

It was before 9pm, and the older gentleman headed out the bar and strolled down the walkway.  There about 4 of them, and they all dressed very similar.  They all had on cardigan sweaters or sweater vests with a button down underneath, a pair of khakis or dress pants, topped off with a newspaper style hat.  They all looked very dapper and adorable I must say.  I thought maybe since it Friday night, they get little “dressed up” to hit the bars.  We watched them stroll down the walkway to the next bar.  Shortly after a couple of older couples strolled in.  They gave a bit of strange look.  Either it was obvious we were not from there and/or we were eating before 9.  They too just had a drink and then strolled down the walkway to the next bar.  Then about 20 -30 minutes later the older, dressed up group of gentlemen strolled back up the walkway. Not sure if they were going to hit another bar or turning in for the night.

Once we had just finished up our dinner, and sipping the last drops of our wine, the younger generation of the town started to appear in the bars.  Now it was around 9:30.  However, the younger group had the same way of doing things as the older group of gentlemen.  Have a drink, socialize, pay the bill, and move onto the next bar.

As we could not keep up with the younger group, and I would guess the older gentleman as well, we mozied down the walkway to the town center to the wine shop.  We were going to be doing our drinking in our room.