Spain, Day 3

La Uva Sobremadura
"Let's call your Mom to tell her what you drank tonight..."
It appears my uncle was playing a game called "How fast can I sober up my 19 year-old nephew." Oddly enough, as the 19 year-old nephew, I was far from amused. Nevertheless, I dialed as I was instructed after muttering protests about a seven-hour time difference and my parents' certain Friday night plans. Thankfully, home appeared deserted until my father picked-up.

I acted as normally as possible, but I have a strange feeling my meticulous conversation construction was thwarted by the extended conversation my uncle enjoyed with my father, which included the words "no, no, not too much," among other such suspicious phrases. When the phone returned my way, however, my father gave no inclination of suspecting anything amiss and he passed no criticism or judgment otherwise. Needless to say, my relief manifested itself in a deep car-time stupor (otherwise known as a "nap").

In hindsight, my common sense should have kicked in when the dessert wine arrived. Sadly, the dessert wine went the way of the multiple bottles of champagne, the after-dinner shots, the two steaks and the accompanying foie gras, the crispy phyllo dough topped vanilla bean ice cream smothered in warm chocolate, the calamares a la romana, the chipirones sauteed with diced zucchini and artichoke, the octopus seasoned in olive oil and pimienton, and the odd hash brown and fried egg platter that was regaled as haute cuisine (I called it breakfast, but still tasty). And now I wonder why I feel like an 18-wheeler. I also realize that perhaps ordering water after the dessert wine arrived was a bit late. Just one glass of the "detoxifying agent," as my aunt called it, was really not enough. To think that it was normal for everyone else to enjoy a two-hour dinner drinking only beverages upwards of 12% alcohol.

My first indication that this behaviour was par here should have really come when I was wandering through the supermarket today (it was the only place open during my midafternoon walk while the rest of the country rested). I discovered that buying some brands of pop would set me back farther than buying certain bottles of wine. And for the kids, the boxed wine (still of considerable Alc. by Vol) appears perfect for those lunch boxes or as a solid midday snack.

I am fairly certain that my sumer activities will drive me to exercise or to hunger suppressants. Either seems easier than having to say no to some of these foods. And to think, I have not even touched upon today's lunch yet!