While walking toward the used English bookstore this morning I noticed once again that regardless of language, children playing sounds like children playing. I first noticed it when I walked by a playground in Berlin, and again in Italy and France. I also realized today that the siesta is recess for adults.
While standing in Maoz about an hour ago, eating possibly the world's best falafel, I heard a man say something to his wife in English. I looked over and saw an American flag on the side of his baseball hat and decided I had to talk to them. I coached them through the process of ordering and how to dish up on the salad bar (deep fried cauliflower, cucumber and tomato on my falafel? yes please) and we chatted about our trips. They're finishing two weeks in Spain tomorrow and can't believe how much more expensive Europe has gotten in the past 45 years. But they liked Valencia, which is where my train is going, so that's good news.
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1 comment:
there's great falafel in granada too, near the hostel. best i've had since berlin. yum.
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