After investigating the rumours of a new museum, (with no windows!), we decided on lunch. A delicious if somewhat over garlicky sea bass. Funny recollections were remembered as we gossiped with our hosts. I asked how the indomitable Lola was.
Lola is the doyenne of the place. She is related to everyone who has a 'chiringuito'. In fact she 'bequeathed' each member of her family one. Her sons have houses in astonishing sites up the hill.
I first met her husband when I was walking along the beach at Bolonia about 19 years ago with my then 14 year old son Nicolas and 12 year old daughter Sophie. We felt we had landed in heaven and could not believe anything could be so totally unspoilt, empty and beautiful.
Walking towards us was a good looking 'macho man' with flowing iron grey locks; Lola's husband, and his companion with a patch over one eye. I went forward to greet them when out of the water a head of long flowing black hair rose up. What the hair did not cover was totally naked and very 'bustaceous'. Nicolas of course whooped with delight, Sophie giggled in a shocked way.
I immediately felt I had to apologise for the insensitive manners of those foreigners¬Öas if it was all my fault! (It was not so many years back that I had been escorted off a beach by the Guardia Civil for wearing a very decent bikini!) However before I could do so, another apparition rose out of the water. This time a bald white head on top of a long, white body nonchalantly joined his companion and they stalked up into the pine trees.
My children were astounded. Just not Chelsea or Belgravia! I greeted the two men and started my apology. He brushed it off with 'Oh she is a great friend of mine. Yes, she is very well endowed, but then some of us could do with a bit more'. He cast his eyes over me quite blatantly. I retreated, quickly realizing that attitudes had changed from the Spain I had known well in the 1960's!
Shortly after this, Lola became a widow. There she was, another little lady dressed in black. We had long talks about widowhood and what it meant. She confided many deep and strange intimacies which is a book in itself. Then she decided that she was a rich widow, so she changed from boring old black serge to glamorous black silk which combined with an elegant hair do with a gorgeous red tint and Lola was emerging from a chrysalis. It did not take her long to shed black in favour of colour. I thought it was wonderful and aided and abetted her the whole way.
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