Pizza delivery Monty Python Style ( or Sarah T )

Oh to be back in an English speaking country. Yesterday was a food shopping disaster starting with a trip to the supermarket and two very expensive bags of walnuts (£14) or 3 people’s daily food budget. Then we tried to buy empanadas for dinner but the restaurant was closed so Linda and I opted for takeaway pizza. The only problem was that our Spanish isn’t really up to pizza toppings.  So we resorted to drawing pictures of the ingredients on the back of a flyer. The pictures for olives, peppers and mushrooms were fine but the onion apparently looked more like a pineapple. The whole process had the rest of the restaurant staff in stiches.

Pizza ordered they told us it would take 30 minutes and they would deliver it to the boat at the marina. An hour and a half later there was still no sign of pizza. Faced with eight very angry crew members awaiting dinner we headed back to the restaurant. If we understood the problem correctly their fire (which appeared perfectly fine) had broken and as a result they hadn’t been able to cook the peppers. So we stood at the counter and waited for the pizzas. As they bagged up the pizzas we asked about the delivery and whether they could also give us a lift…. They just pointed at the telephone number for delivery and spoke a load of Spanish that we couldn’t understand. So I pointed at the pizzas, crouched down with my hands out like handlebars and making my best scooter noise hoped that it translated into please deliver. They stared at Linda and I dumbfounded so we grab the pizzas and in the spirit of Monty Python and the Holy Grail we made scooter noises as we ran the kilometre back to the boat.

We finally sat down to dinner at 9:50. Luckily someone had cracked open the wine and there were two very expensive salads on the table (including the gold plated walnuts).

Aside from our food disasters we had spent a very pleasant afternoon at the beach including my warmest swim to date

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