Friday, May 14, 2010


Regular readers will know that on a Wednesday I meet to chew the cud over breakfast with my good friend Prospero in the Vecina Bar in Jimena.

This is in preparation for the day that grows ever nearer when we shall qualify to chew the cud in the pensioners’ bar a few minutes walk away. Our teeth should last so long!

It is also a sobering fact to know that one of the two brothers who own the Vecina is also the village undertaker. I always put on a spurt of energy when he is behind the bar - eyeing me like one of the vultures that circle the skies of Jimena.

Prospero who is older and therefore I accept wiser than me is of the opinion that we are as old as we feel.

I concur except on my visit to London I felt older than my years as I sat down in Starbucks with a bevy of young attractive people – mostly female. I would have sought refuge behind a pillar but I suspected I may have looked like a voyeur. Not that anybody looked in my direction which in a sense made matters worse.

In Southend on Sea I decided to go on the pier – the longest pleasure pier in the world at well over a mile – a mile and a quarter I think. I asked the lady at the kiosk how much it was for a ticket – she told me the regular price – then looked me over and offered me the older person’s rate instead. It came as a shock to find that not only did I qualify but I had done for over a year. I wasn’t sure whether to feel insulted or elated.

I took the creaky train out to the end – but decided it groans sounded too much like me. So I hoofed it back beating the advancing storm clouds by a whisker. I then went to a cafeteria that attracts diners well in to their retirement and once again I felt younger than my years.

What ever your age – have a good weekend!


PROSPERO said...

(Stage whisper) What I haven't told you is that I am in full rehearsal for the pansioners' day centre: I have coffee there, too, most days, and a chat with other toothless wrinklie. From them I get to hear in full colour, often with a show of scars and/or bumps, about the delights of intestinal troubles, prostate problems and ingrown toenails.
This, I assure you, does not make me wiser.
Great blog, Sanch!

Mary said...

My heart bleeds Sancho -but not for long- try going on your future daughter in laws hen night like I did this week end- 30 hours awake in the company of nubile young women showing flesh in places I can´t even see any more (don´twant to either). When spotty youths start giggling at you behind your back when you think you are giving quite a good bit of welly on the dance floor( at least they had the decency to hide) and you realise, too late, that you are directly under some muscled hunk in his spantex knickers giving his idea of a bit of welly - THAT is when you feel you shouldn't be let out anymore!