I like my straw sombrero, but it's not that comfortable, and it has a life of its own on a breezy day. So, I walked into town this morning on a mission to buy a nice cool white cotton sun hat I'd seen in a shop outside the main retail thoroughfares at a half of the price of similar products elsewhere. Best of all, it was pure cotton, rather than cotton-polyester. I spotted it Friday evening, but didn't bother to buy then, just took note and decided to return.
Yesterday afternoon, I walked past, but the shop didn't re-open at the hour scheduled. I waited for a while, just in case, but nobody came. In the mean time, a man came up from the beach carrying a guitar, sat on a nearby doorstep and began practicing some flamenco riffs. I don't think he was busking, but sitting in the sun enjoying himself in the best way a guitarista can. It took the edge off my purchasing disapointment.
Anyway, the shop was open when I arrived, and I found a hat that was actually large enough not to need squeezing on to my head. Once I done some food shopping, I had to carry the new hat, fitted on the crown of my straw sombrero to get it home. I must have looked an idiot, but frankly I didn't care.
Later in the day, after answering another wedding query with a long email, I took a longer walk in the sun with the newly purchased hat. It's perfect cooling headgear - not stylish but very functional under these bright sunny skies. I'm hopeless at shopping, except for food and tech' bargains, but now and then, something goes right, and there's no indecision left.
Talking of straw, there's a man around town who weaves esparto grass into baskets and other things. He works outdoors at different sites in and around the town centre. I saw him first four years ago in the Plaza San Salvador, and took this photo.
Today, he was in a shady corner just outside the square - understandably, given that the pruned trees in the square haven't grown enough to provide much shade so far.
Later, I saw him in the shade again, further away from the centre, in the barrio where the Parador Hotel is located, this time weaving bottle covers. A beautiful everyday craft practised the same today as it has been for thousands of years around the world. He doesn't have a banner, nor does he hand out business cards. He just does something he loves. Next time I seem him I must try and chat him. Sad really that I have need to buy things he makes, as I'd have no use for them here. Getting them back to Cardiff as a locum souvenir would be too much of a problem. What fascinates me is his story. I wonder what he'd make of that, in my broken Spanish?
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