Kansas. Not.

After another day's driving, here's the beach in Salobreña. It's house-swap time again. Today we had lunch in a chiringuito  -- the full tourist experience with seafood (see extra), large black ladies with trays of jewellery on their heads, Malian guys selling sunglasses, a man in a red shirt strumming a guitar, and a hopeful couple passing the hat round for the exploit of playing a tape of bullfight music, clicking castanets, and vaguely wiggling their hips in time to the music.

While in Salobreña we saw a poster for an Iciar Bollaín film showing tonight. We loved Tambien La Lluvia, so we decided to go. El Olivo is about a family which sold a 2,000-year old olive tree against the wishes of the grandfather. It seemed as if it was going to be a melancholy story, but it turned into a bit of a caper (sorry!). As usual we missed many subtleties and most of the jokes, but understood more than enough to follow the plot. A bit sentimental at the end, but well acted with touches of humour as well as sorrow.

Internet access only by driving up the road to a bar, so blipping and commenting will be sparse.