Confetti

Confetti littering the street around the church just up the street from us, although I shouldn't call it litter, it's too pretty.

The daughter of one of the village butchers married an Englishman last Saturday and, being the nosy so-an-so that I am, I went and waited with the rest of the village to see the bride emerge from the family shop. She looked beautiful! They live in Barcelona though so we won't be having an extra English person to chat to.

It was easy to tell who belonged to the English contingent, some were drinking beer in the street without having anything to eat - not done here - and one woman was wearing a hat, which isn't traditional at weddings. Apart from that it was the pale legs which gave the women away and somehow just the 'Englishness' of the men, although even I'm not sure what I mean by that. Funny how you can tell from fifty paces.