Patio Andaluz in La Zubia

Basic needs take on a special place when you're on the road: access to hot water, a bed, a place to hang your laundry (which you've likely done in the sink by hand-- yes, the kids are in charge of their own) but most of all, access to good food.

Combine an incredibly friendly waiter, bread and food that is out of this world and you have Patio Andaluz, a place we ate EVERY SINGLE DAY because it was like coming home. There was no menu, there were no prices, just long, long tables crammed with people getting the 'dishes of the week.'

This is what Isabel had to say, "it's really good. The staff was friendly, helpful and funny." It was a bit like eating at your grandmother's if she happen to be an excellent cook with ample ingredients. Patio Andaluz was in La Zubia, the small village outside of Granada near the national park of the Sierra Nevadas and our sheep pen hotel.

We miss it. Each day we'd go to pay and our waiter Paco would say with a wave of his hand, 'The same as yesterday.' It didn't matter if we'd added an extra beer or two cups of coffee or doubled our dessert intake. Each day, the grin was the same and the price a complete mystery. We just kept adding a bigger tip! The last day as we were paying a glass shattered by the bar, Paco waved it off with a grin and said, 'Well, we won't have to wash that one again!' As we asked the price of our meal that last day he grinned and said, "I only make up a bill once a month- no me complico la vida, "why complicate my life?" That spirit has prevailed throughout Andalucia.

There is a perceptible lack of tension in peoples' faces, their driving, their way of interacting. The old Greek concept of otium or, "peace above wealth and power" or even more memorable= "leisure with dignity" is the driving flavor----

pictures to follow-- running off to hike to a Moorish tower we'll get the pictures up as soon as we get back

What seems to be the biggest force is that of gathering as a family. The norm is seeing multi-generational groups. We ran into this group celebrating this gentleman's birthday: the twinkle in his eye is one we've seen in many elderly here. I've seen more elderly people in a week and a half than I've seen in 4 years back at the ranch.

By groups I mean over 20 people. I laughed every time we ate at Patio Andaluz because Paco had a miniature notepad (if he decided to take notes at all) and would manage tables of 20+ effortlessly-- a far cry from the computerized waiting system that is familiar in the States. Paco was the picture of Zen: calm, an impish grin never far from the corners of his mouth and a terse, funny Koan of an answer to everything. If we'd ask about a dish he'd shrug his shoulders and disappear and reappear sliding a plate of the dish in question across our table-- he'd say, 'try it.' Once I was hung up with Baby-O and he came over and said, "Don't you like your dish?" He made movement as if to take it away and said, "I'll bring you something else."  In short, Paco is a complete delight of a human being.