I was born in a small town

Mondays can be kinda boring because the museums are usually closed, so I went to this little town called Zafra that doesn´t have any museums. Some churches, some cute little squares, and the friendliest people ever at the tourist office. One thing I´ve noticed about Spain is that people seem to really like the towns where they live, even ones that to me don´t seem to have a ton of merit. Not just tourist office employees--I´m talking people who don´t get paid to like their towns. When I ask people what they like about where they live the answer is usually something about the people, and in smaller towns the words más tranquila usually come up. I don´t go around asking small town Americans what they think of their towns (and maybe the Spanish people who strike up conversations with foreigners aren´t representative), but I´m pretty sure the responses would be a lot less positive.

Anyway, Zafra. As the weather gets more extreme, so do the siestas. I was forced (forced!) to have beer for lunch because I accidentally waited until siesta time to eat. Bars, restaurants, grocery stores, everything was closed. I finally found the one open bar in town, but they weren´t serving food, period. I had my heart set on gazpacho--I keep craving these very typical Spanish foods and then not being able to find them. The place had gazpacho on the menu--I´m sure there was a big drum of it in the kitchen. All someone had to do was put it in a bowl; they could have charged me more, I would have paid. But that´s just not how things work here.