Yesterday was our trip to where the inhabitants live in caves. Our tour guide first took us into a dusky,cavernous interior of the cave bar, and next to the bar is a small church.  We were warmly greeted by the female owner of the bar who the tour guide had informed of our order (her speciality being tapas - all for six euros per person). We sat in groups and we're served red wine, a bottle of fizzy drink and a bottle of water between us. The tapas consisted of many dishes but the one that I remembered most was their traditional spicy `mojo´ sauce that was  served as an accompaniment to the local dish of salted (wrinkled) potatoes.
Silence at the table..........
'Hello, my name is Nikki"
"Hello, my name is..........."
And so on, breaking the ice. Most of our fellow eaters were teachers or ex-teachers from different parts of the UK. I only had a small bread roll. Why? Because prior to our stop here I was doing a little projectile vomiting (I believe it was something I ate the night before that hadn't agreed with me). Anyway, I watched the others tuck into the tapas on the table and enjoyed our talk, one topic being the the snow crisis 'back home'. After the meal, we strolled to the bar which was just a stone throw from where we'd just eaten. The atmosphere is heavy with the aroma of the cured hams that hang suspended from the ceiling. There's a layout of spicy 'mojo' sauce, excellent goats cheeses (I was informed were made in the area) and bottles of wine that are produced in the vineyards at the bottom of the valley. DOS man sampled the coffee laced with rum and loved it.
It's amazing what you can find in the cave homes; plasma tv, darker shade of brown leather settee, to name a few.
My night ended with an manage-et-trios with the bathroom sink and the toilet......... with an empty stomach, I fell asleep feeling sorry for myself