It’s A Small World After All


I’m trying to concentrate on reading my book (still A Song For The Blue Ocean), but a French version of “It Was A Teeny-Weeny Yellow Polka Dot Bikini That She Wore” is making it slightly difficult. It is quite amusing, as, I’m sure, is the English version to the French.

I’m sitting in the courtyard of a nice (I would even say fancy) restaurant called Tres Virgenes with Orion overhead and a fire blazing in the outdoor oven to my right. The restaurant was recommended to me by my B&B host, Carol, but as I stood outside reading over the menu, I could see very little vegetarian options. In hesitant Spanish, I asked the host what sort of vegetarian dishes they served. He offered to ask the kitchen to make me something special and soon I was enjoying a blue cheese risotto with roasted vegetables. It was delicious!

Sometime between the French “Yellow Polka Dot Bikini” serenade and a Mexican flamenco, I struck up a conversation with a couple one table over. To make a small world even smaller, they had been at a place called Colorado in their sailboat a few weeks back at the same time we were. I remember Mark, a tanned-faced sailor in his fifties, rowing his small rowboat up to a Zodiac (that I was in) and handing over a packet containing a handmade necklace for the doctor. Three weeks later we’re chatting over a glass of wine and exchanging stories from our travels in Mexico. As they were leaving, Mark unhooked his necklace of white coral from around his neck and handed it to me. He said he makes them and his wife chipped in, saying that he likes to spread them around.

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