Bombay Masala

I dined again with my pals, Susan and Derek from Worcestershire, at the little Indian restaurant near Music Square, Corralejo, last night.

It's called Bombay Masala. Isn't it a wonder the Political Correctness Police haven't changed that to Mumbai?

The Indian family who run it are utterly charming and courteous.

The decor is unpretentious and unsophisticated.

We ordered small glasses of beer.

Having considered the menu, I chose the Kashmiri Chicken; while the others had the lamb and chicken bhuna.

We shared two portions of pilau rice and one large piece of peschwari naan bread.

My curry was enjoyable and tasty, though I have to declare I prefer the Korma version.

The bill came to about €51 excluding the tip.

They offered us the usual brandy or liqueur and the conclusion.

Thence we ambled several yards across the Square to La Plaza café bar, where a middle-aged singer-guitarist dressed like a cowboy was playing to three boisterous young women tourists.

His rendition of Bamboléo is legendary, I gather (!).

Suitably fortified with liqueur coffees, we strolled back to base. 

Piazza Grande: II

Alas, the weather in the Canary Islands has been poor recently, to put it mildly (!).

We have endured very strong winds, heavy rain, and local flooding.

In fact I've asked my aunt to send me a pair of Wellington boots instanter!

Nevertheless, I met my new friends from Worcestershire and we struggled against the Elements en route to the fine Italian bistro café, Piazza Grande.

Unsurprisingly they had few patrons owing to the inclement conditions outside.

The three of us took a pew inside, where we ordered a bot of red plonk and perused the menu.

We opted for a kind of daily "Special" which consisted of small, battered, hollow cushions of some sort, with a plate of cured meats and cheese.

This was all rather good.

For pudding I had the apricot and almond tart with whipped cream.

Thence we made a beeline for the so-called Music Square in Corralejo, which was totally deserted.

The restaurateurs had all succumbed to the ghastly weather.

One of the few establishments to remain open was a bar called The Blue Rock. We wandered in, had cocktails, and thereafter departed for home, as it were.

Letter from Corralejo

At the moment I'm seated outside the little Italian café, Piazza Grande, in central Corralejo.

Instead of the usual coffee, viz. Leche Leche Largo, I'm enjoying a salubrious mixed smoothie fruit juice  drink.

Since last Wednesday we have endured heavy rain, local flooding, strong winds, and cooler temperatures.

Today, Monday, is calmer. The signs of the thunderstorm remain, however, with some large puddles.

The tennis court resembles a swimming pool!

I've encountered some interesting people during my time here; indeed I'm dining with two of them in two days' time at a Brazilian restaurant.

Tomorrow evening I look forward to a bite of dinner at a Danish establishment called The Ugly Duckling.

It has a limited menu which, to my mind, is good.

Corralejo Sculptures

There are two sculptures at the old quay, Corralejo.

Corralejo, Fuerteventura, remains essentially a fishing town, though tourism must be its principal source of income now.

The maritime heritage is reflected in these sculptures, of families whose fathers, husbands, sons, or brothers, put to a cruel sea to earn a living.

It reminds us of the hope and despair; the relief and heartbreak of fishermen's families.

Piazza Grande

I had a bite of supper at an agreeable little Italian bistro or café called Piazza Grande last night.

It's located at the children's playground in Plaza de Los Niños, Corralejo.

There was intended to be a live musician, though inclement weather called that off.

So I ambled inside, took a pew, and ordered a G&T

The menu is on a blackboard.

In the interim the bar staff placed a complimentary plate of garlic pizza slices beside me.

After some perusal I went for Granny's Raviolacci, three very large pieces of pasta with salty, though tasty, bits of bacon, or its Italian equivalent, atop.

The nosebag was quivering with anticipation, given that I had a hearty appetite on this occasion.

I overheard two other diners inquiring as to the name of the red house wine, so it must have been acceptable to them.

The bill, including two Beefeater gins and another basket of garlic bread, came to €21.

Morning Constitutional

There have been thundery showers in Corralejo lately, I can declare! 

I find it agreeable to take a morning 'constitutional' down to the sea-front and past many of the small establishments bringing out their tables and chairs or their wares for sale.

En route for Belmont GHQ, I happened upon a small Italian café or bistro called Piazza Grande.

It's located at the town square.

They have several blackboards with the menu written in various languages.

Fresh pasta predominates; and prices are in the region of a mere €5 or €6.

Granny's cakes and Granny's ravioli with butter and Salvia (sage?) sounds tempting.

They have live musicians, too, dependant on the weather.

I think I'll try it this evening.

Episcopal Mischief

Frederick Hervey, 4th Earl of Bristol and 48th Lord Bishop of Derry, was renowned for spending much of his time travelling abroad and little time in his diocese.

On one such occasion, when Lord Bristol had been absent from his See for over five years, three of his fellow bishops rebuked the Earl-Bishop for this.

The Bishop's reaction was typically offensive.

He placed three peas in an inflated bladder and posted it to none other than the Archbishop of Armagh, with the following riddle, signed "Bristol and Derry":

Three large bluebottles sat upon three blown bladders; Blow, bottle-flies, blow. Burst, blown bladders, burst.